Tag Archives: love

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.

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

I hope that you are sleeping. I hope that you are dreaming. Dreaming of me. Thinking of me. As I too am thinking of you, dreaming of you, believing in you. I’m not really one to give up. Dream that little dream of me, would you?

Dream Inside A Dream

It’s a long, long day ahead

Before I get to bed

Just remembering now, i think

Something you had said

Blue-green

Like the sea

If only you had seen

Those things that i could see

Come one, come all!

Welcome to the fair!

You there! You look tall!

Come and see the dancing bear?

You wouldn’t refuse… You wouldn’t dare!

With you it’s always an adventure

Surely backed as though by debenture

I always find myself to be so sure

But what if I can’t find the answer?

What if I… ?

Still Cold Amidst The Fires

Have you ever felt that bone-chilling cold? That cold that not only chills your body but your mind, your heart, and even your soul? Light a fire just to keep warm. You’ll just end up burning the house down. The firefighters picking through the burnt and smoldering wreckage of what was once a home only to find you there, sitting on an ashen sofa, turned from flesh and bone to ice. So cold to the touch it spreads.

Frostbite

So cold

Freezing, even

I can put on a blanket but…

It won’t help

This frigid mood that overtakes

Turns to ice even the largest lakes

Can’t feel my fingers

Can’t feel my toes

Only the stinging, piercing cold that knows

I hold this in

And freeze within

Look behind my eyes and see the snow.

A Light That Won’t Go Out

Always on, always burning. There is a lamp that never goes out. The light across the bridge, the light at the end of the tunnel, eyes in the dark that watch your every move. For every champion of the light, there lies in secret something far more sinister. But just as there lies the body of the Sinisterium, so too is there the light. May harmonic balance find you and retrieve you from the depths of this eternal oscillation so that you may see the light as much as the dark. To walk not between worlds, but within one world. Find yourself now, arbiter of the unbroken. I hope you all like the poem today.

Blindspot

Is there anybody out there?

Searching, never finding

Plentitudes

Of loneliness and solitudes

Staring down at screens abound

Wishing only i could hear the sound

The angelic hymn and calming tune

The hope to hear your voice again soon

I feel so lost amidst the dunes

Shifting sands

Far from home in distant lands

Skin so burning

Stomach so turning

I only hope that i am learning

Peering out at ancient monoliths

Think of you, i hope to share with

These old bones and ancient myths

Try again to find the pith

Specters haunt and do surround

The darkness always finds a way around

An Honest Day’s Work

What is an honest day’s work? Certainly not what happens here. It all feels so hollow. So… inconsequential. Nothing really happens here. Numbers go up, numbers go down. Meetings all day, every day. Nothing really changes. Same thing. Day in, day out. Sit at a desk. Walk to get coffee. Back to the desk. Maybe take a vacation at the end of the year. Go to Bali or Cancun. Whatever. No adventures, no quests, no treks. Back to the office, back home, clacking keyboards and haughty metronomes. A building full of cardboard cutouts that never seem to wither or fold. All oblivious to the pain that lies underneath a thin veneer of niceties and falsehoods told and retold until hearts give out and cubicles are emptied.

Faring Not So Well

Almost as if

The feeling itself

That being numb

It might be better

But whether it’s the former or the latter

Here I sit

Dreaming of forgotten malls

And Taj Mahals

Wishing I could feel something other than the one that gnaws

At my heart

At my bones

On my mind

And on my toes

Can you hear them?

Can you feel them?

Phantoms and spectres

Invisible

Screaming

Begging

My heart, it begs the question:

“Love me?”