Category Archives: love

Perhaps The Gods Know Better

Perhaps I’ll ask them. It is their realm. Immortality. It would seem that man’s one ultimate pursuit is eternal life, the avoidance of death, whichever way you put it. Why then is it so that there are those among us who one day hope to die? To live a good life and to die, moving on to the next frontier? I have yet much life to live, but some day I think it would be nice to know that I can leave and I’ve been the best man I could. The next adventure always awaits. Enjoy the poem, friends.

The Immortal

This poison heart,

with its venom and its vitriol,

there’s something deep inside it,

rotting out the core.

I sip my glass of nightshade tea,

and eat with it my anthrax scones

and cyanide peach preserves

in the hopes I’ll numb the pain.

But no, i cannot die,

I cannot rest until the promise I’ve kept is kept and i might have peace again.

No, I cannot die.

I’d break a promise that needs fulfilled,

a promise to not die,

a promise to be at your side for always

and forever.

I lie in wait,

my poison heart,

hoping for a cure,

but here I fear,

it won’t be near

for many, many a year.

I feel its tendrils slowly encroaching,

slipping and sliding,

growing in my chest.

How black and withered does a muscle grow

under such neglect?

Storied Stormy Nights

Hello again, all! Back from my vacation, I have a little poem for you all that I enjoyed writing very much. Imagine yourself on the deck of a ship, you and your shipmates, hardened sailors one and all. The sails start to flap and wood starts to creak as dark clouds draw overhead. Rain pours over you, washing away the the salt and sweat so forcefully from your brow as lightning can be spotted in the distance. The captain screams his orders over the roar of the wind and the seas, attempting to regain control of the rigging. Amidst the cacophony you start to hear a beautiful song. Drawn to it, you and your brethren sail towards the rocks. A song that beautiful… Surely there aren’t any rocks?

Ballad of Sirens

O’ that cape of forlorn hope,

I sail around the bend.

I hope to find on other shores

a beach on which to mend

that poison heart and all its open sores.

Sailors find their sirens

there upon the rocks,

a place where ships will come to break and crash.

Beautiful their voices,

and so too are their faces,

so beautiful in fact

that sailors won’t notice

how their heartbeat quickly hastens.

Is it fear, perhaps?

Rightful to so fear the siren, yes,

but perhaps that song they sing,

that pretty one that lingers in your ears,

perhaps there is some truth to it

and closer to the siren’s heart the sailor nears.

There I lie,

crushed and broken on the rocks,

comforted by those deep blue eyes,

color of the sea I’ve grown to love,

belonging to the face

of one graceful little dove.

I know I’ll not survive the night,

I’ve not had enough adventures,

or been enough places,

but to die with you will mean eternity,

to find again Elysium one final time.

To hold you in that orchard,

my forever love.

Dreaming Of The Sea Again

The same dream again. I see the sea so close by and yet… It remains so far away. Miles and miles I could trek and ever still would not find it. One day though, I will find my place beside the sea. That place where I intend to laugh and play and hear the gulls. To smell that sweet sea air. Peace, well deserved.

Origami Heart

There abounds my heart,

fluttering, flying, floating down

and lightly alighting on the sand.

It looks as if a paper gull,

origami,

that ancient art.

A folded page in the shape of that

thing which beats beneath my breast.

So light and so airy,

held there by the breeze,

as if some old fairy.

No wishes to be wrought.

All I’ve got is what I brought.

Smell the salt and brine,

reminiscent of cheap wine.

Written there upon the page,

a memory perhaps,

or some old adage.

Can’t quite catch!

If only I could read it,

perhaps I could remember

how the world was lit.

If only for a little bit.

Wanna Get Married?

Afternoon, all. Here I am now, again, sitting here. I am thinking, wondering maybe. Dreaming of dark hair and red lips. Satisfied and unsatisfied, finding not that which I’d like to find when I go looking. Please enjoy the poem, friends.

Some Kind of Relationship

Do you think there’s someone out there?

Someone who just knows where?

They’ve found their place and it’s with you.

Just a table set for two.

An aching, tired body,

battered and bruised.

I sleep as soundly as I can,

for only in my sleep do I heal,

for only in my sleep do I not feel.

As heart it twists and stomach it turns

That feeling inside,

that something that burns.

Forget-me-nots come in with the tide.

The onion-hat of sultans sits so sublimely on his head.

A man who now alone rests among the dead.

Like before I’ve said,

all the gold’s been turned to lead.

A Play In Act III

Afternoon, friends. I have for you a poem that I hope would make you think. I hope it doesn’t hurt too much to read. Perhaps you’ll think it all an act? A performance? It sometimes makes it easier for me to visualize the plot line of my life with all its twists and turns and heartbreaks. To see it in the light a director would, perhaps attempting to change the more offensive elements to be more palatable for a more delicate audience. I’ll watch this play in my head, trying to pick out the characters and the plot holes. When one day it ends, who will be backstage?

Graceful Wings

Why’s it always spinning?

Really can’t feel like I’m winning.

Always here and waking up again.

Licking wounds back in my den.

I feel like an animal,

or perhaps a small child.

One whose cranial capacity may be considered somewhat challenged in the mass department.

There’s an innocence in that.

I only hope that when I bleed that it is red I bleed and green you see in my eyes.

Maybe nothing hurts quite so much as now.

I don’t know whether I am a good man or not.

I only know that when the curtain closes over these hazels eyes of mine,

the only one on stage I’ll still see is you

with all your graceful twirls and dances,

your beautiful soliloquys,

and those eyes I swear were glued to me throughout the show.

I suppose I’ll see you at the end,

the end when all the families and friends and spouses see the cast.

I only hope that you won’t fly away from me again.