Category Archives: love

I’ll See You Again

You’ll see me again. No matter how far away you’ve gone or how long you’ve been away, you will see me again. No need to cry, no need to worry. You only need to look. The days are long, but there are a lot of them. Enjoy the poem, friends.

Ode to my Friends

I’m not so good at saying goodbye.

I’m not so good at telling that lie.

You might think

that I forget.

But every time I see,

i remember

and boy did I see you.

All your glory

and all your flaws.

I will miss you

because I know you.

Because I’ll remember you.

I always say

that everyone falls in love with me,

but the truth is…

I fall in love with all of you too.

To Feel As If Floating

In a cloud of long-forgotten stardust, I find myself. Far and further away from anything and everything I once knew. Floating there, no air within my lungs, no blood within my veins. I am but a specter, a ghost outside the machine. My ship blown apart long ago in an ancient battle far away and removed from my current, frozen circumstances. There I stay, drifting through those clouds of stardust, the only twinkle in my eye the gamma rays and photon blasts that pass me by every thousand years, a length of time that to me is but a blink. My glassy eyes no longer hold life behind them, but still yet reflect those beautiful, iridescent nebulas and effervescent starbursts I watched so long ago with the wonder only a child could. Only now it has come to pass that I am no longer a child, but that husk of man adrift in a sea of nothing. I am finally at peace among the stars.

Derelict

It always meant so much to me

You did, I mean

We found our peace among the stars

Our refuge from this world’s many wars

I saw and see inside your eyes a twinkle

Reflection and refraction of those great gaseous bodies

Their existence too is all aflame

A reflection too of that which beats inside my chest 

This heart, that heart

You’ve really made the grade

Only now the signal’s dead

We won’t get home to go to bed

These stars with which we’ve sought solace

Caught there in the space between

Floating, derelict

Waiting for relief that never comes

An Old Ritual

Last night I partook in an old ritual. One my ancestors may have recognized. As an observer I felt more than I can explain, oddly enough. There were not many parts, but there was much fun to be had and many friends to be made. This I think I understand. The profound effects of a ritual always lie in the social aspect for me, the actual God or Gods taking the backseat in my mind. I think I’d quite like to do it again.

Regent of Hearts

I’ve met some great boundless one so far

Who told me how the world’s not so hard

Who filled my heart with no canard

That one who tells stories much like a bard

A sing-songy voice

But not by their choice

I of course must rejoice

They think of me more than a shithouse Joyce

Of gumdrops and lilypads

A fantasy land

Of good moms and good dads

There in that castle just by the sand

Idyllic machination

Psychadelic fascination

A world so full of recreation

And creation

A world so fully embraced the Mad

Princess On A Train, The Train

Today I have for you the story of a girl on a train. The story of a girl of such ethereal beauty, abundant character, and brazen intellect that one could hardly consider her real. The story of our lady, that one who is champion for us so that we may live again in that kingdom of golden plenty. The story of that girl who is the light when all is in darkness. The story of that one who I only hope that someday I can be compared against in half as favorable a light. Please enjoy the poem today. This one means a lot to me.

Our Lady, The Traveller

So many fears

And so many tears

The story of a girl on the subway

A girl crying on the train

A girl with eyes so vibrant and beautiful

The war for Helen of Troy might seem like a playground spat

Were she now to be the focus

This girl on the subway

With jet black hair

And the fairest of skin

Sweeter than honey

Feeling less than sunny

The days for her

Already long

Grow longer still

She waits for her mind to come home from war

For her love to come knocking at the door

Staring out the window

Seeing stations pass by

She tells herself that little lie

“I’m ok! I’m alright,” she’ll cry,

As her manicured nails dig into her thigh.

Recalcitrant as she is

In her rebellion against the crown

She fears now the forces rallied to her opposition

As their war horns sound

But our lady, my lady

The princess and heir

So beautiful and fair

Those horns that sound

Her allies to her aid

Riding down the mountain in that most righteous cavalcade

That girl crying on the subway

She’ll find the words with which to say,

“I’m ok. I’m alright.”

And on that day,

She’ll have the strength to fight.

You Know That Feeling?

That feeling you get? That one you get when everything seems turned upside down and inside out? When your intestines twist and knot into a ball of writhing flesh and fluid in such a gross display of angry sadness that you wish that you could just pull them out? Keep them in there. Innards are important. The sickness will pass. One day you’ll learn to untie the knot. Easier if you were once a boy scout, but not impossible otherwise. Enjoy the poem today, friends.

Labyrinth

There within my core

A pit, like an apple

Knowing there is something there

With which i cannot grapple

My core is all in knots

My mind so full of nots

Here I sit and think of all the many empty lots

Where We might sit and think so many thoughts

These words do not release

This tension of declension

A descent so far to madness

That sanity seems so intertwined with badness

Down again into the catacombs

Through all this aching blackness

I look and see a pair of tomes

Filled so now with memories of sadness

A history so obscured in mystery

No one knows but me

No one knows but us

Perhaps we’ll fill a tome again

Perhaps we’ll dream that dream again.