...

ran, i, away,
here, i, am,
am, i, here,
away, i ran.

...

a blaze without warmth,
laughter without mirth,
words without meaning,
life without purpose.

...

there is no beginning to this end,
nor an end to the beginning,
all there is, is the middle,

of nothing and nowhere

there can be no less of hope, when there is simply none,
there is no malady, but simply in the mind,
there is no mind, but in its own imagination,

this is mobius' mental eternity

absent hope is the salve,
to the non-existent malady,
of the imaginative mind,

apply gently

...

I can,
be this,
a beginning,
an end, or even just
the middle,

I can,
also be this,
a prologue,
an epilogue, or simply
somewhere in the riddle,

I can,
be,
the present,
the past, or hopefully
the distant distant future.

what I can not be,
is this,
what I can,
never ever really ever be,
and because this bears,

to be said again,
what I can,
never ever really ever be,
is simply,
an afterthought.

...

it can be this,

a simple plea, or

a litany of words,

meaningless, and

meaningful,

all wrapped,

in one, and

the same,

meaningful, and

meaningless,

litany of words, or

simple plea,

it is this.

Posted via Blogaway

...

we sit guard,
at the doors of our past,
the only ones knocking,
are our own demons,
to be released,
to rummage and plunder,
through now,

the now is good,
it always is,
when threatened,
if perched perilously,
on the edge of oblivion,
from the past,
let the sleeping monsters lie,

the best grave,
awaits,
well deserved,
a eulogy without memories, and
the epitaph unmarked,
silence -
eloquence of the dead.

...

it is this.

there is no meaning,
outside these words,
no warmth,
outside this cold embrace,
no noise,
more defeaning than this silence,
no conversation,
more satisfying than this monologue,
no brightness,
more incandescent than this blazing darkness,

it is this.

and this is,
as it should be.

...

what i hold,
a shiny piece of fractured glass,
uneven edges, scarred within,
my window into the violent world,

what it truly is,
is a mirror,
telling of all faults,
it reflects who i am,

no more a soothsayer,
than one's most earnest desires,
no more a window,
than one's wishful thinking,

'tis time, however
to cast the broken aside,
to take on reality, truth
and build on what's alive.

...

what life denies you,
you try, and
find in love,
what love denies you,
you try, and
seek in death,
when death defies you,
you walk, 'round
and 'round,
in a daze,
broken,

when snarls,
and growls,
forget to convey,
when tears, and
whimpers fail,
leaving a pile,
on that ground,
stomped on,
stepped on, or over,
kicked out, or about,
just remember,

you're not the first,
neither will you,
be the last,
we've all been there,
one way, or
another, everyone
goes about,
with a broken heart,
or temporarily mended,
but nobody wears,
it on their sleeve,

the salve,
is for you to find,
where, when, and
how,
here, now, or
over that bridge,
are all,
your choice,
to find life, and
love, or simply
fade away.

...

don't ask, questions
to answers already here,
neither hard,
nor easy,

how, why and who am i,
pale in comparison,
to unwilling answers,
i am,

it starts with a question,
and ends with one,
the expanse, from
why to why not,

trapped in between,
is silence, answers
to questions, that are
never asked.

...

long staccato,
short syllables,

simple meaning,
mired words,

real feeling,
unreal actions,

love me,
love you.

...

the grasp strengthens,
every day,
it's chaos at my wrist,
there is also life,
on the other side,
order awaits patiently,
with death,

as they grow strong,
find purchase, (on)
my grasp of reality, (or)
weakening,
no one can tell,
if they lead me,
or i them,

'tis a secret yet,
where this will lead,
to raptures, or
the grave,
one truth remains,
however,
the journey has begun.

...

can i borrow your eyes,
just for today,
to see the world,
shimmer and sway,

can i borrow you lips,
just for today,
to talk beautifully,
to assure and allay,

can i borrow your ears,
just for today,
to always hear music,
where none may,

can i borrow your arms,
just for today,
to hold, to embrace, caress,
to chase fears, tears away,

can i borrow your legs,
just for today,
to walk and run, but mostly
to dance all day,

can i borrow your strength,
just for today,
to borrow nothing,
but to just find my way.

...

fragrance remains,
as aftermath of love,
this squalor,
the beginning of hate,
yesterday-today-forever.

...

the temperature rose,
and melted fears away,
in great drowning waves,
of thunder and rain,

the filth washed away,
the hurt remained,
the sky bloomed,
while the mind faded away,

there is no place far away,
to hide from today,
this will always mark,
how i walked away.

...

a frantic need,
to clear cobwebs,
brain addled,
with knowledge unused,

memories secreted away,
in unknown corners,
tucked snugly in,
into the folds of,

what happened,
did it really?,
what will happen,
will it really?,

destiny is one,
for fools,
the past,
for cowards,

how does one forget?,
do i not learn from the past?,
how not to remember the fall from grace?,
does not fear nurture hope?,

thinking animals are just that,
with adjectives,
am i not a thinking animal?, so
here is a thought,

a salve for the past,
crutches for the future,
befitting an animal,
kill the spider.

...

unfeeling,
answers,
undoing,
questions,
must i live?,
i can be.

...

some secrets are better,
left unshared,
some truths are better,
left untold,
some lives are better,
left unlived,

without the sordid,
secrets,
without the painful,
truths,
without the pointless,
lives,

there are no better,
however.

...

a really pithy limerick,
on apology,
passed through my mind,
i forget now, but
will a sorry do ?

...

sow this garden, of
hurt, and
distrust, of
love, only
sometimes, now
reap this garden, not
long, from
now, full
of misery, and
self fulfilling,
prophecies.

...

the pain is all wrapped up,
in the past,
there is no room here,
now in your embrace.

half-truths and half-lies,
hurt more,
tomorrow, when questioned
they are merely truths and lies.

claimed trust, and
professed love, mean more
when intoxicated, one hopes
to alway remain.

...

the answers are all here,
loudly spoken,
clearly written, in
soft whispers, and
hard nudges,

the questions however, have
changed,
overnight,
out of sight, but
all in the mind.

...

these walls do not reverberate,
with music,
nor do they throb,
with laughter.

----

what remain,
are these thoughts,
scratching away,
leaving bloody trails,
on decrepit souls,
that lead no where.

----

these walls contain me,
i contain these thoughts,
hope however,
cannot be contained.

...

the muse is dead,
buried, with
that which never dies,

these thought may be old,
the memories frayed,
the hurt remains fresh,

a million miles,
take me no farther,
than the reach of a hand,

grasping,
fondling,
suffocating,

let me shed these here,
now, let me walk,
away into oblivion.

...

one wonders,
when the puzzle's all done,
where is meaning,
without that one?,

lost,
gone,
misplaced,
undone?,

this is now,
that was then,
this is forever,
what was then?

...

the puzzle is done,
with pieces to spare,
weaving a mystery,
all their own,

swept up,
swept away,
swept under, and
wept over,

they remain,
taunting,
narrating an endless story,
without meaning.

...

we tread lightly,
lest the past be woken,
we speak softly,
lest the past be woken,
we breathe not at all,
lest the past be woken,

what if the past is here to stay,
despite all of it,
lightly tread,
softly spoken,
hardly breathed,
all of it.

...

what of wants?,
without needs,

what of lust?,
without love,

what of words?,
without meaning,

what of existence?,
without conviction,

what of life?,
without hope,

what of me?,
without the past.

...

if you let yourself go?,
where will you go?,

what we have is never what we want,
what we want never what we need,
what we need never what we get,
what we get may just as well be well deserved,

if you let yourself go?,
will you go far from here?,

where to?,
from here?

...

we refuse,
pretending deeper thoughts,
feigning greater worries,
what is greater,
than hunger,
however ?

...

the muse pleads,
for one last rendition,
of thought-art-imagination,
all one has to offer, is
love-hate-regret,
ineffectual capers,
of inconsequential lives,
the muse or me ?

...

(no){w}here is,
the fine line,
between,
suffocating life, and
breath taking death.

...

we strip ourselves,
of our names, and fame (?),
we strive to be forever-wise,
a mere thought, an idea,
our shame, however,
will forever remain our shroud.

...

looking at me,
are those crimson tinged eyes,
are the tears done ?,
or are these the remnants of last night's ?,
good times ?,

seeking me,
are true love's words,
are they your first ?,
or are they remnants of last night's ?,
good times ?,

the eyes speak myriad emotions,
the words weave a million webs,
for whom ?, one wonders ?,
did i not already last night ?,
good times !

...

we pretend to care,
as we move through our days,
that lonely old woman,
trying to make it to the next,

little boys and their refused childhoods,
girls that squeeze through hoops,
of metal,
and life,

we pretend,
of bigger worries,
we gaze at our scars,
the physical and the not so,

we worry that little itch,
while our soul,
soothes itself away,
as we enter the gates,

of our reality and dreams,
built on those left behind,
but mostly on our souls,
a little bit everyday.

...

we judge others,
for all that we hold dear,

we judge others,
for our desires,
passions, and
guilty pleasures,

we judge others,
lest they judge us,

we judge others,
for our righteousness,
our integrity, and
for the lack of it all.

...

loneliness,
brings strength,
no fear,

individuality,
brings pride,
no shame,

there is plenty,
to be,
by oneself,

sometimes,
just to be,
is all of it.

...

i can walk away,
while you stay,
watching me,
wander away,

will i get anywhere ?,
will i find myself ?,
i cannot, and neither
can you say,

should i try ?,
should i leave ?,
these are questions,
answered when time replays,

when i see you again,
where i left you,
to lose, and
find my way again.

...

what was broken,
will forever remain undone,
what remains,
will forever be less,

what is today,
can never be lived tomorrow,
what is tomorrow,
will forever be far away,

what are dreams,
will never be reality,
this reality,
never ideal,

ideals,
to live by,
what,
to die for ?.

...

what if there are no pictures ?,
to reflect passion,
none for love,
none for belonging, and
none merely, of
us ?

what if there was no us ?,
to call each our own ,
none for forever,
none for knowing, but
just you, and merely
me ?

...

what of ebbs without flow?
what of droughts without floods?,

what of tears without laughter?,
what of misery without happiness?,

what of pain without pleasure?,
what of death before life?,

what of questions without answers?,
what of this glass half full?,

what of me after that fact?.

...

you will ?,
be more,
a friend,
if i reveal,
less,
if i do not,
( )
so what ?

...

what if ?,
you can
never forget ?,

what if
you can ?,
never forget.

...

much to say,
nothing to silence,

much to see,
nothing to perception,

much to feel,
nothing to experience,

much to words,
nothing to mean,

much to emptiness,
nothing to scribe.

...

sometimes there is nothing to say,
nothing to silence,

no acrimony,
nothing to anger,

no barter,
nothing to berate,

no despair,
nothing to drown,

no acceptance,
nothing to approve,

when you walk away,
there just is nothing,

was this elisabeth's hell ?,
'tis my heaven.

...

tears fall freely,
in tiny drops,
now a rivulet,
an angry torrent,

pooling,
falling,
some wiped away,
some to the floor,

spreading,
leaching,
claiming more,
than yourself,

smiles,
laughter,
hopes,
dreams,

nothing beautiful,
nothing sweet,
little salty,
lot blurry,

acidic,
angry,
comforting,
familiar.

...

the word is a web of its own,
of thoughts and emotions,
circumstances and choices,
truths and lies,
realities (more than one ?),
and imagination,
whatifs and whatnots,

why is a world of its own,
without room, for
why me ?

...

darkness shimmers,
over simmering silence,

each for other,
one for all,

dark silence,
endures silent darkness,

complete,
futile,

all for none.

...

disconcerting silence,
punctuates unspoken words,

the meaning in chaos,
displaces the chaos in meaning,

all in one,
one for all,

then-hate,
now-love,

life-death,
now-forever.

...

encounter millions,
see thousands,
recognize hundreds,
acknowledge tens,
(mis)understand (n)one,
(not) me ...

...

nowhere.
now, here.

...

what of these emotions ?,
If not fallow ?,

What of these reactions ?,
If not hollow ?

...

what of lives ?,
without passion ?,

what is obsession ?,
if not ?,

the passion to cease,
the obsession to perpetuate ?,

what of one ?,
without the other ?,

yesterday and tomorrow ?,
what of today ?,

ying and yang ?,
what of us ?,

life and death ?,
what of existence ?,

all or nothing ?,
what of mediocrity ?,

what of this ?,
any of this ?

...

those memories have been set ablaze,
in the darkest corners of this graveyard, which
i will visit,

i am here today,
i will tomorrow, and
forever,

‘tis after all my mind,

there will be no flowers,
no sorry looks,
repentant words,

tears will follow, for
what was done,
was allowed,

‘tis after all my being.

...

much of this is mine,
how much yours?,

the pain is mine to bear,
no consequences for you ?,

i am less,
are you more ?,

you, my everyday reality,
i, a distant dream ?,

you, my muse,
i, just another ?,

you , my first,
was i the last ?

...

such is how the new begins,
in old ways, and
practiced indifference,
in memories, and
regrets,

the urge is strong,
resistance compelling,
herald the new,
into the old, and
comfortable,

there may be,
no mystery, in this
malady, but
certainty, in this
misery.

...

many appear,
few stay,

seldom ask,
never enquire,

the everyday,
the reality,

of things,
the being,

the wants,
the needs,

i am fine,
wrapped in,
i am not,

will you give,
a damn,

perhaps i was not,
yesterday,

today perhaps,
i am,

will you stay?,
enquire?,

what is my reality?,
being?,

where are my needs?,
today?,
who am i?

...

this is how we live,

resentful thoughts,
regrettable actions,
restive feelings,

rousing ends,

this is how we die,

flickering images,
forgotten sounds,
festering emotions,

fizzled beginnings.

...

plural beginning, (to)
singular end,

from answers,
to questions,

now, (or)
later(?).

...

what of goodbyes?,

innuendos,
without intent,

threats,
without promises,

here now,
gone tomorrow,

until the next hell?, Oh!

...

what role does angst play,
in this orchestrated end?,
what role does impudence?,

aware of the inevitable,
why ignore the obvious?,
end tonight, glory tomorrow?,

or until the dead rise,
in a funk of their own,
the day after?

...

cruising spirits,
invoke more than most,
desires,
wants,
needs,

mind intoxicated,
heart a-flutter,
guards askew,
verbose,
banal,

depthless with,
thoughtless without,
despised with,
hated without,
ignored forever,

with or without?

...

is that all one can offer,
a litany of words,
in sequence,
inconsequential,

is this how one feels,
that love,
voids that remain,
with or without,

the scars may be skin deep,
but the hurt?,
is forever, (and)
with room for more.

...

why script a eulogy?
orchestrate a funeral,
mourn, deny or accept,
the inevitable?

truths remain truths,
whispered,
evangelized, or
swept under the rug,

the muse is dead.

...

memories,
reveries,
day-dreams,
hopes,

past,
present,
tomorrow,
forever,

never?

...

what are thoughts?,
without actions,
dreams?

what are actions?,
without thoughts,
everyday?

reality?

...

words
heal
no
more

laughter
mirrors
joy

intent
in
innuendo

laugh
with
laugh
at

...

reality defies dreams,
non sequitur,
to rise to, and
fall into,
day after day,
until they are no more.

...

nestled in the aftermath,
of that unholy union,
that culmination of dreams and reality,
this day takes another meaning,
imparts a new moral,

lost in translation,
between the mind and the word,
it's not happiness,
that this existence lacks,
it's hope,

refusing the pyre,
built on dreams,
fueled by ambition,
ignited by a chastising word,
or two,

there is no death,
at hope's end,
the end, however,
will covet death,
hopefully.

...

what does a goodbye mean?
when there is no love lost,

the stench of acrimony hangs heavy,
as a curtain,
failing to see what was once good,
once cherished.

what of those that never bid fare thee well?
with love lost,

the stench of acrimony still hangs heavy,
unable to let go,
unable to fathom,
happiness for you, them,

goodbye is a long word,
for a world so small,

we will,
meet again?,
across the curtain?,
or maybe not.

...

why?,
squeeze silence,
into meaning, (im)material,

silence has its own monument,
epitaphs,
of the dead.

...

this is where i refuse to be,
this place of glass half-full,
i’d rather be half-empty, with
possibility of peeking over the brim,
being swept away,

this is the place i loathe to be,
complacent in mediocrity,
happy in the average,
where risks mean loss, and
lost without challenges,

i want there,
that place of intense toil,
infinite struggles,
everyday misery,
defeat and anguish,

i want that place, of
forever hunger,
defeating odds, where
tomorrow may be what it is, but
it will be my best.

...

the elephant is its own beast,
you see the tail,
i, the trunk,
the task, however
remains daunting,
the middle ground?
may already have been trampled.

...

much as the dead carrying the dead,
clean of morals, to be dealt
anecdotes, to be shared
the shame, however,
lingers, enough,
necessitates,
the pyre,
of wayward hopes, and
lofty dreams,
a lesson in caution,
a moral in precaution,
happiness (lies) in mediocrity,
and hence,
the next pyre,
ignites.

...

this is how we die,
each day,
every day,
like the ardor that cooled,
over years,
without choice,
a little by force,

this is how we die,
a thousand deaths,
with each passing day,
when thoughts remain,
elsewhere,
any(no)where,
(but) in you.

...

vulnerable,
pretense,
angry,
guilt,
nonchalant,
hope,
some,
of the many.

...

that blaze?
set high,
by anger?,

body and hope,
scorched,
dead (?),

life remains,
(will hope reclaim?),
clinging forever,
like the undead dead.

...

this blinding haze,
f(o)ueled by the hopeful spark,
stifles nothing but itself,

dying embers, alas!
don’t stay dead,
‘t(h)is time,

‘t(h)is crumbling dyke,
douses embers,
stifles hope.

...

memories prevail,
despite the dying embers,
captured in pretension,
in this redolence,
of defunct phantasm.

...

these lies,
swathed, in
pretentious diminutives, and
belittling adjectives,
acknowledge,
the want-need-desire,
for 'nother beginning,
a new tomorrow, with
a warm smile, and
a grand finale.

...

this eve,
the preface,
to an end,
that never was,
a dozen years ago,

and an end,
to the beginning,
that will forever,
remain elusive.

there are no ends,
without,
beginnings, and
no (new) beginnings,
without an end.

...

breathe,
silently,
into darkness,
definite nothingness,

exhale,
slowly,
into tomorrow,
possible oblivion.

...

there are those that beg,
for more,
at the altar of time,
a few minutes there,
from that other day,
and then there are those,
that let time slip,
like sand through an hour glass,
un-tethered,
meaningless,
until it is past,

I beg now,
for those years past,
to have never been,
that reality,
always a dream,
so there is no me,
here,
begging for this dream,
someday reality,
not today,
but someday.

...

hair whipped around,
arms flailing,
clothes askew,
beauty unscathed,
at the end,
of the short walk,
from the edge,
to over.

...

those withering glances,
stark in essence,
obsolete in purpose,
mean nothing to this psyche,
nonexistent in emotions,
biding the end of time,

the damage is done,
the songbird drowned,
and yet,
(there is something to be said for patience)
we await the tenor (?),
of the fat lady.

...

like the ascending crescendo,
of an approaching train,
those leaves a-flutter,
in this indian breeze,
unseen clouds,
unknown depths,
endless thoughts,
endless thoughts,
now, but not
forever.

...

there is nothing to do,
but hope this errant cloud,
will find a peak to rain upon,

one cannot help but wonder,
in this life of valleys,
where those are to be found,

half glass full?
this cup runneth over,
with the drowning songbird.

...

the tolling bell,
lost in the cacophony,
of endless todays, and
seamless tomorrows,

lend me an ear,
a silent night, and
some time,
out of this mind.

...

this is me,
wild,
untamed,
bare-foot,
hair a-fly,
teary eyed,
with laughter,
mirroring none,
of heart break,
disappointments,
and dreams,
gone awry,
today is all there is,
tomorrow may never be,
spirit may cease,
but tonight,
this is me,
with hope,
in thought, and
thoughts,
without hope...

...

that which is left unsaid,
says more,
or so they say,
than that which is,
and in honor of that,
how,
what,
when, and
why,
will always remain unsaid,
and in honor of those.
there are no answers here,
only questions,
need-want,
for an end,
that will someday be, and
reality,
that will someday cease.

...

and simply because.
there need be,
no more reasons,
for this insanity,
here is another.

this simply is,
like the tears, and
the lack, of hopes
of continuing,
boredom.

meaningless, purposeless,
seeking, however
beyond that burning tip,
that can only hurt,
until yesterday.

...

will you cry?
if I die?
will the world end?
or just mine?
will you wait with bated breath?
as I walk that thin line?
between sane and insane?
will you push me overboard?
or pull me safe?
will you laugh?
with me as I laugh the insane laugh?
will you clap your hands?
with me at the world?
with the world at me?
will you sympathize?
or will it be empathy?
do you have an answer?
to all these?
will you cry?
when I die.

...

those vehement denials,
mean nothing,
to a question,
as yet,
unasked.

and as such,
denials, are
for the truth, bitter
questions,
they are,
not.

knowledge,
however,
taunts,
judging,
relentlessly, without
question.

...

these scars speak,
an entirely different story,
on(c)e removed from the lovely strands,
those lonely strands,
on the kitchen floor,
beseeching an explanation.

those that feel, and
perceive,
with wonder,
(but never question),
need no answers,

those that see, and
question,
without wonder,
(but never perceive),
need no answers, either.

...

will
who
where
when
remain

will
who
where
when
always
remain
more

than why?

what
remain
will
always
be

what
remain
will
always
be
inexplicable
elusive

answers?

...

if,
silence, is
golden,
why, is
oblivion.

...

this cannot be,
what it is,
what has come to be,
motionless,
meaningless,

disparate words,
bound together,
deserving an end,
begging another,
almost…

...

there cannot always be an end,
a punchline,
sometimes, (sometimes)
things are,
what they are,

much like the blues,
and possible sunshine,
only allowing,
a myopic view,
of where happiness lies,

in acceptance,
of the blues,
the grays,
and possible reality, (I surrender)
today.

...

i have a love.

at once magical, and
mundane,
for life,
and the(n),
not so much,
the everyday,
and the(n),
intriguing,

where will it end ?

the end, however
will be the beginning,
be it now, or
never,
no ever,
never,
now and ever,
never.

...

over and over again,
I repeat,
the same,
over and over again,
I hope,
the same,

does it mean more,
when said often,
does it mean more,
when said less?

does it bore?
over and over again?
does it matter?
over and over again?

do we listen less?
to the oft repeated word?
do we listen more?
to those unsaid?

hope,
happiness,
tomorrow,
dreams,
love,
faith,
and,
that,
what,
ever,

do they matter more?
or less?

more or less?

...

through your patchwork quilt,
i gaze,
on happiness,
laughter and smiles,
once lived,
already forgotten,
but for these brief squares,
cloaking,
all that is,
was, and all that
never will be,
of possibilities,
of realities, and
the possible realities,
and the impossibility,
of this,
here,
fantasy.

...

the deepest questions,
well forth in ambiguity,
swathed in doubt,
dripping in loathing,

self remains meaningless,
worth discarded,
esteem in misguided quests,
and off-handed brush-aways,

seeking my mirror,
guilt framed,
of deception,
and answers,

half-truths,
lies,
and maybe then,
the possibility, of a

tomorrow.

...

meaningless words, mimic
depthless thoughts, mirror
shallow living, desire
profound end,

tuneless, and
voiceless, and
forsaken, and
death,

of a song bird,
without conjunctions.

...

your eyes,
speak,
volumes,
insincere,
shallow,
irreverent,
beguiling,
and yet,
i surrender,
unwillingly,
willing,
a streak,
of need (perhaps),
perhaps,
even (with my),
lust (and my),
wanting,
approval,
of this, and
of all,

of me.

...

there may be,
answers,
after all of you,
has been erased,
from this mind,

the possibility of you,
across the street,
around the corner,
a decade,
from that image,

captured vividly,
astonished, agonized,
acknowledging,
the possibility, of
this barren psyche,

the impossibility,
of like,
of love,
then,
there,

but maybe, not
forever...

...

this may be all there is,
this winding road has met its premature end,
in the sunset,
over a cliff,

having exhausted all that was,
of hope, of anger,
of laughter,
and those tears,

there is nothing left,
to do, but to give in,
a deep breath,
a long dive,

but there is no end to be found,
in denial,
in the allure of those relentless waves,
in the deep dive off the shallow edge,

and i am left here,
in my own company,
wrangling with this wretched living,
this existence,

yesterday, today and
maybe tomorrow.

...

that pilling sweater?
those brown cords?
that book?
those shoes?
that smile?
those eyes?
the scar that your laughter seared?
the walks on the moonlit beach?
the trek to the mountain top?
those lazy afternoons?
and the stormy nights?
that embrace?
the love?
and that lust?
the want?
and the need?

I have none of those, left
to remember you by.

this is all there is,
this empty place.

these meaningless words, and
the mangled silence.

...

there is no respite here,
crouched in the shadow of your words,
afraid to read ahead,
fearing the future,
actions imitate words,
reality thoughts,

mind read,
and read again,
dog-eared,
tattered,
bent, and
yellow,

thoughts captured,
in black and white banality,
some gray,
abundant red,
mocked,
discarded

and i sit here,
with the faint ringing of the distant bell,
foretelling, foreboding,
preserving, persevering,
this reality,
this fantasy,

this fantastic reality.

...

this view of the past,
the elegy of opposites,
has run its course,
there being nothing left,
to view,
ponder,
mourn …

i remain now,
as a clean slate,
yearning to be filled,
with memories,
only to turn around,
a decade from this place,
awaiting more, awaiting anew,

there is no new tune to this sad lyric,
no reason for one,
until there is no me,
looking to the past,
to you,
living that memorable failure,
that failed reality,

that beginning to this end.

...

remember ?
that last april day,
a decade ago,
the end of an era,
the beginning of another ?

remember ?
that awkward fumbling,
rustling paper,
heart laid out,
like revealed ?

remember ?
that possibility of love,
at twilight,
with angry mosquitoes, and
averted eyes ?

remember ?
the like-love spurned,
that almost may day, to
an august beginning,
that never was ?

i don't,
but for that crumpled memory,
carefully smoothed over,
to a glossy reality.

everyday.

...

may I sing you a woe,
artfully crafted,
lyrical,
set to the perfect beat,
of a life that never should-can-will be ?

a song for mine,
a part of me,
that can never be,
but in imagination,
my man-mind-child ?

with words, that
are deeper than the slits,
on my wrists ?,
with words, that
sting deeper than the welts,
on my back ?

will you listen ?
you, that is a part of me ?
will you listen ?
you, that will never be ?
my man-mind-child ?

believe that I love ?
that which can never be ?
that which will never be ?
that which cannot be imagined ?
that which is forever feared-felt-missed ?

my man-mind-child ?

...

there's no saying,
how enchanted i was when,
i first heard you,
over the buzz, the cackle, and
the static.

the webs that,
your throaty laughter,
spun around my soul, with
those half said words,
those unfinished thoughts.

laughter,
that i wished i could mimic,
thoughts,
i wish i could think,
words,
i wish i could articulate.

now,
all you are,
is but a distant dream,
a less than perfect memory,
a nightmare,
wrapped in years.

i wish that was all you were,
a memory,
a wish,
a nightmare,
but you are more.

you are that part of me,
which yearns for approval,
hope, love,
that part of me that betrays,
my vulnerability,
the need for love.

never more,
no more.

...

do you believe ?,
the smile on my lips,
the forrowed brows,
the tear rolling down my cheek,
and the lingering happiness,
as you hold me ?

do you remember ?,
my true love,
the righteous angst,
high hopes,
and vivid dreams,
as i am held ?

you must,

for the dead don't lie.

...

i could write a poem,
an ode, a sonnet,
words artfully crafted,
capturing all that was,
that is, and
can be.

but all you need,
is look in my eyes, and
find the loathing,
the hatred, and
the pain,
disguised,

as love.

...

there is this lie,
we pass around,
light as a feather,
heavy as unshed tears,
coarse as last evening,
smooth as a cat's eye,

this lie,
never uttered,
sweet as the first taste of blood,
bitter as tomorrow,
hot as a mid-summer night,
cold as truth,

i love you ...

...

why am i what i am ?
why am i who i am ?

will i find myself ?
the answers ?

will there be light ?
an end to this tunnel ?

will there be hope ?
tomorrow ?

will i be ?
will i wonder ?

forever ?
always ?

does it matter ?

do i ?

...

will you remember ?,
to forget the days you remember ?
will you forget ?,
to remember the days you forget ?

I only have a few that,
I remember,
the ones I remember,
and forget that I do.

...

let me share,
in this, here,
this back slapping,
this,'what could have been'.

It is,
'tis been,
this will always be,
water under the bridge.

could've been worse,
water over the bridge?,
it will,
'twill someday.

someday 'twill.

...

...bow here,
bow here at this silence,
this darkness,
there is something to be learned,
something to be discovered.

this silence holds...
this darkness preserves, perseveres,
this darkness that,
holds me ...
against will.

I surrender,
to this,
the silent darkness ...
this dark silence ...
willingly unwilling.

...

darkness shrouds silence,

(in which I exist)

now exposed,

without words,

without vision,

I fumble,

to ecstasy ...

...

between these lines,
there exists,
a silence,
not one without words, but
one without meaning,
without reason, and
between those,
this silence,
I exist ...

...

what flapping wings brought about this deluge ?
of fear and pain and myriad emotions,
of anguish and anger,
and these tear stained eyes ...
that look at me so forlorn so lost,
seeking comfort, seeking love ...
unware of the impotence that I am,
unable to give,
unable to care,
love lies far beyond these simple few,
unknown, unseen, unbeknownst ...
like more expressive, although spurned ...
like is no love, like can be no love,
I only venture ...
this, me, my impotence ...

10/22/04

...

silence as oppressive as the night black,
glowing as one tarnished,
black thoughts and blacker words cower in reality,

actions, however have surpassed superlatives,
how ever ?, one wonders ...

supine, pliant words of activity,
vent to inactivity,
in a darkened shroud of non-chalance,

meaningless verbs and abused adjectives,
seek patronage in unbeknown actions,

silence becomes me.

as the darkened night clouds the clandestine,
the lover and the loved,
I plead umbrage in non-words,

silence is a gesture,
the gesture of the forgotten, unwanted, unloved,

eloquence of the dead..

10/22/04

...

scorn lies not..
in the greed imbued forlorn look..
mallice takes a new place , a new meaning..
these are but emotions..
banal and deprecating..

i hear a knock..
at the door..
could it be the much awaited happiness ?
maybe..
maybe not..

hope as greed remains..
an infestation..

the knock persists..
and against will, wishful thinking persists..

'tis indeed happiness at my door..
alas she has the wrong address..

10/15/04

...

peace defies verbal design,
death offers oblivion...

from sorry sights and looks askance,
the perfect question and the non-answer.

life goes on,
memories fade,

denial rules while the mind seeks harmony,
priorities juxtaposed in time.

the end awaits,
perhaps around the corner.

12/25/04

...

it's not just a sweet desire,
but an earnest longing ...

the end is nigh,
happiness willing ...

but the mind fails to decipher,
this, that and the other ...

happiness sails by,
a fleeting memory,

a kindling,
a possibility,

a possibile reality,
now a distant dream ...

just one,
one, none the less ...

...

swaying to the lyrics of my tears,
(the lie that awaits reason,)
'bout what was to be,
but not anymore,
I surrender.

'tis not a dream.

'twas.

...

I fill,
lines upon lines,
with words,
pearl-like,
ashen,
expressive narrative ...
like pleas,
plaintive,
from eyes,
doe-like,
beseeching begging ...
but wont,
find meaning,
in this,
reality,
dream,
memory,
li(f)e.

...

The Road from Ignominy

Where to from this ?,
here,
now ?

Is this the end of the road,
or merely a crossroad ?

Where do I go ?
How do I know ?

Where the wind blows,
or hopes beckon ?

To lost love,
or something anew ?

Where are the answers ?
Did Pandora know ?

8/5/07

...

With and Without...

With all that is better left unsaid,
and that which is not,
here is a tribute without words.

for a few to perceive,
fewer to appreciate,
none to relate.

it is not always the reality,
but a choice,
often how I act,
seldom the feeling.

i am indeed the master,
the master of my destiny,
none other,
no other ...

ever !

4/19/07

...

and because...

...and because that stained glass is no more,
that view of the world can never be,
reality filtering in without barriers,
cannot help but gray be...

a call to awaken,
a nudge to perceive,
all that is,
and has always been...

that which is shattered can hardly be,
but for the stained sliver,
but for the stained sliver,
streaked with my life,

that which I refuse to see,
with my eyes tight shut,
what without ...
my stained glass window...

... my view of that which will never be.

4/7/07

...

Today I feel normal...

...much like a fish out of water,
anxious and desperate to drown.

This coin has the same two sides.

2/2/06

...

Today I feel restless...

...not unlike an errant cloud
sailing across the azure blue,
untethered, homeless...

seeking a reason, a person
a form to fill,
radiance to haze,
blur, distend...

or a peak to ascend from,
change form,
fill another...

be a purpose,
a hope,
a dream,

a reason to live.

merely exist or
merely cease.

1/27/06

...

Today I feel hopeless...

for there is neither a song nor a thought that can bring peace,
no place, no person,
no space, no reason...

no flickering glimpse of fleeting happiness in another can,
does,
will bring happiness,

and without reason are many days a born,
lived without happiness,
meeting a climax in the drudgery,
in the monotony,
that this troubled mind weaves.

hope as peace ceases to exist,
consumed in an all encompassing despair.

feeling despicable with pity, self
and seeking purpose in the darkness
the darkness that is this,
this mind ...

a destiny unto its own dreary end,

seeking absolution.

1/24/06

...

did you think I would remember ?
that smell,
like on one unwashed,
the pungence,
days hence ...

did you think I would remember ?
that look,
that piercing glance,
the ignoring guise,
and feigned ignorance ...

did you think I would remember ?
those prying hands,
those hurtful actions,
that awkward fumbling,
like one rabid ...

I do ,
painfully, vividly, and
with a shiver I give in,
to those memories,
those nightmares ...

Yes ! I lose,
but not for long ...

...

Here's an ode to you ...

your periwinkle loving emerald eyes,
and the love that you are ...

a lifetime of happiness,
and beauty to eternity ...

a kindred spirit,
a loving soul,
your soul-spirit ...

and here's to you again,

something old,
something new,
something borrowed,

and last of the blue ...

...

angry outburst ,
inner collapse ...

thoughts vapourize ,
words amalgamate ...

cant hate ,
that which
does not exist ...

I am loved.