Saturday, March 19, 2016

Seasons (poem)

The seasons come and go,
But I remain.
I'm paralyzed by endless sunshine that burns red behind my closed eyelids and crisp wind that scatters scores of leaves across the sky and snowstorms that leave the world muffled and frozen. 
My solid frame is trapped in place, a breathing contradiction to my mind that will not be still.
The world does not cease its cycle for me. I am left behind, slowly deteriorating. The Earth waits to claim my dust for its own, not feeling, unmisted by judgment or preconception.

When I am gone, all that will be left is a faint, ethereal imprint of my consciousness, struggling even then to comprehend the planets and systems and galaxies and universes that somehow still excruciatingly manage to survive. Those sentient, swirling beings; somehow both immense enough to crush me beneath the weight yet exquisitely minuscule, gentle and delicate enough to exist on a pinpoint of a single thought.

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Sunday, January 4, 2015

Poem

I am playing a vicious game
A game of lingering silences and stolen glances
I don't dare to open my mouth
because my sharp tongue always betrays me.

My thoughts are dissonant
Shuttered away from reality
Our thinking is not truly in harmony
Is there purity or malice in my mind?

The beckoning of possibilities
Ensnares my thoughts like barbed wire
How do I know where to go?
Fettered by my own nature.

The game, it seems, is fickle
Playing by imprecise rules
An outcome never reached.
Does victory or loss really matter?

Friday, January 2, 2015

Poem

I wrote this for you
The future, and the past that won't let it be.
The fig tree, the wheel of Time, once brutally persistent,
now frozen.
A crossroads maybe? A junction of choice that beckons while my brain is locked in a muted frenzy and my heart pumps out ragged, uneven beats that call out your name, name, name.

I'm trapped, trapped in between thoughts and actions and feelings and words and futures that yesterday cannot promise.

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Saturday, November 30, 2013

Revelation (poem)

The noise began slowly and softly, like summer rain falling on a tin roof, coming from the moonless air and issuing its macabre melody to the tree skeletons and cold street.

It was quiet at first. And as the night began to darken around me, I could see the stars fading away into pinpoints of light and the sound grew, like an echo, a phrase repeated over and over.

I stopped in my tracks, listening hard. A whisper floating on air, innocuous, accompanied by the misplaced sound of horse hooves. It spoke: "Come and see!"

Suddenly, he was there.
The dark figure loomed in front of me, making me stumble backwards. In the darkness, I could make out the large figure of a horse, with a man astride.
The horse, pale in color, pawed the ground and looked at me with dead, cloudy eyes.
The figure on the horse was tall and broad shouldered, and his image seemed to shimmer slightly, never seeming to settle on one image, flickering back and forth in ghostly hues.

My breath caught in my throat, my body turning cold. The sudden silence was so strong that I couldn't even find the beat of my heart within my chest.

I stood frozen until he spoke to me.

He spoke in a lazy and arrogant, yet undeniably powerful tone, lulled into a dangerous cadence.

"White, Red, Black, Pale
A blunt separation, a covering veil
The seals that were broken, we ride on the air
Four ways that we travel, a curse that we bear
The sword and the Lamb and the beasts and defeat,"

He turned away as if to depart, but glanced back at me, looking me right in the eyes.
"My work on this world is not yet complete."

And with that he was gone, the sound rushing back into the night.

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Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Poem

I cannot remember the way your smile looks
Or if your eyes have ever been filled with anything but ice.
They are like dead creatures
A shell of something that once was.

Black marks on a screen hold no meaning
And do nothing to sate the growing animal in my chest
No matter how much I try to distract him
All he does is stare at me with his wicked eyes, silently mocking.

Reality has bent, it seems
The world around me too bright, unfocused
Thoughts caressing the shore like the tide
But being whisked away too soon to remember.

I wish I could remove the shadows
Let different light illuminate the space remaining
Phantom places where you once rested
And leaving me to wonder if it ever happened at all.

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Saturday, August 10, 2013

Butterflies Again

A vague memory, an unwelcome thought
the brush of the wings
of the butterflies that were suddenly there when you were near
You are not mine anymore, though
Those tender insects, now wretched and misplaced
A number of them trying to escape,
but just inhabiting the empty space you left behind instead.

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Saturday, June 15, 2013

Sometimes I can feel the moon
shining on me with its bright eye
and pulling my thoughts tide-like towards it