I need my privacy
I can’t afford it you see
Either monetarily or
In what it does to me

I

When the pain subsides,

I close my eyes, to get back my past

Hallowed memories burn and blur!

Life has not been

The dream I saw!

I turn every page, to see it bleed,

I turn every corner, to wish you were there

The sun is so silent, the moon burning!

The night gave the pains

And along came dreams!

II

I so wish you would come,

Hold my hand, take my breath,

Into the cages of love!

I wish I could have held your hands till eternity,

Bring you flowers, and write you poetries,

I showed you my dreams,

But,

You gave me fresh blood!

And along came my dreams

the moon is silent tonight.
maybe, the confused wind whispers,
he will sing again. i smile
at the moon—nobody knows
that we have taken refuge in silence.

Wrap me up in comfort that I yearn to feel
Remove me from cold, uncaring steel
That ensconces me like a cage.
Let me savor the senses of love and compassion
Drown me in warmth, fire of passion
One is that legend of the ages.

Photo courtesy of confusedvision, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved.

it came upon me, as a thief.
silently, stealthily… stealing
my beauty,, my passion,, my dreams,, my desires…
i was swept up from behind,
now i’m caught-
i am held fast,,
i am struggling,
but the feather like fingers have taken hold.
slowly entwining themselves around my very soul…
coiling,, choking me from within…

i stand motionless… waiting..
afraid any movement, may propel me forward
when all i seek-
is to go back…
as if i no longer have any control,
as if the fates have finally won,,
and i have lost-
all but what i see…

i close my eyes,, my mind,, my heart
i hide in the shadows
of my own thoughts-
as i feel that is all that remains
of that which i cannot see…

i dream of me then,, sometime
before i was lost-
before time, had its way…
before i was introduced
to the art of decay…

photo:

http://www.toddmessegeephoto.com/FineArtFolder/The%20thief%20who.jpg

Ahem…for yay, I do not write to be right, but write to be wrotten..alas tis a quivering quiver of ink and quill that spilleth my coffee, all painful, and scourging in my lapeth.  Oucheth, as I jumpeth and runneth for the mighty towel of chamois, and wipe up thine mess.  It stingeth, like words from a mind gone to mush, and which is assualted by lack of blog activity. 

Bring me ale, bring me the mightiest mead, let me drink forth thine words of love, pain, sorrow, and fruit bats.  Do thou hearest mine groans…helloeth??  echo….echo…echo(and the bunnymen).

——————————–

Just keeping it alive….and loony and not real whatsoever.

Peace and poetry and smiles,

I’m thinking about changing my handle to “Sunbeam”…

deep into the back nine
way off in the weeds
i am not religious
but lord i’m on my knees
i gotta put some distance
between me and all the strife
help me make some sense
of the days left in my life
the fairways weren’t my thing
perhaps it’s a disease
i always took the shortcuts
look where it’s gotten me
am i lost forever
hidden in plain view
or is there some salvation
to make the old anew

fast talk
fine print
define the times we’re living
every man
for himself
keeps the monster breathing
the young
the sick
the fairest game
yours for the taking
if you don’t
someone will
money’s what we’re making
watch your step
cover your tracks
you too are quite appealing
cannibals is what we are
and freedom’s what we’re stealing

Posted this on my blog…kinda a poem, personal viewpoint, etc…whatever…thought it might fit in here anywho……

Feels kind of quiet
out there.
Sounds lonely.

I am content
this morn.
Not much to say.

Think I’ll just
be
at peace
for as
loooonnnggg
as I can.

One second at
a time,
a blink of the
eye/I ?

It was as if the paper I printed my goals on was alight before I began. How was I to know it’d soaked in a scentless-incendiary oil that would consume me as if I’d never been? Should I have foreseen my dreams, shimmering like so many photons in precious stones, were in reality razor-sharp shards of glass? Should I have let go before I was shredded? I could not. The sparkle was mesmerizing — my own mental Milky Way.

I’ve little left and nothing to fall back on. Loss and failure have marked me. Other’s can smell it on me even in cyberspace. Finally accepting that the outskirts of normalcy was as close as I’d ever get to the cookie-cutter world saved my life. Was the price too high? I’m free to try and find a path with enough peace to keep me from the unthinkable. Conversely, as the desire has gone, so has my ability to fake it. My disdain for squares and their world is glaring. I scare people. That’s dangerous.