My PoEtRy
Your One Chance
One moment of one day
is all it takes
it is never planned nor expected
and you never know its happening
until sometime later
when you find yourself in your room
or at work...or in the shower
contemplating
does he really exist?
why didn't i find this sooner?
in awe of how two seperate and unique paths
two of two billion
converged and ran parallel
developped and finally split
all it takes
is one moment of one day.
Abandonned
i imagine a caress so tender
and a kiss just as sweet
a face so loving, a mind so tempting
i love...and hold...and grip...and claw
trying to breathe, to survive
thinking i'll be safe
i look to what's in my arms
absolute beauty, gentle friendship
diminishing into a lifeless--loveless--haze
abandonned, once again.
I Wish
she dreams of
standing impatiently
in her striped stockings
black and white
and army boots
ragged yet elegant
velvet black hair
bue highlights
silver accessories
adorn her wrists
and slender neck
chains and spikes
sharper than
the exquisite nails
that rest on anxious hands
pale, very pale
long thin face
a grin on the
parted black lips
and the red embers
of a cigarette
are evident
sunglasses darker
than the night above
black plastic
short sleeveless dress
silky satin
black, of course
to match her
somewhat ominous
ensemble
but still, she waits.
Untitled
I am alone. the darkness sweeps into the very corners of my soul. the blood bubbles up and pours out my eyes, like the tears of sadness once sought after, taking my joy and love with it. and yet, there is a light, first falling on my fingers, then gently crawling up my arms and circling my head; causing me to wonder how and why it came to me. and I think, me, the one who shows no love but instead, I let it run through my body like an angry horde of butterflies, fluttering in delusion and perplexity. not allowing these feelings to radiate from myself, I let the hate overcome them and drown them in my fears. and the light came to me. from where, I ask. is it from the one who let loose those butterflies in my heart? it may be, but he does not realize it, nor will he ever. and so, I am alone.
Realization
We sit and let flagrant dreams and lurid thoughts caress our mind like the sweet, gentle symphony playing in our ears. We lie back; the touch of fascination tosses a smile of interest in our eyes. Beautiful, wonderful images run through our dreams like pebbles being swept by a swift river. The satisfaction of seeing such ecstasy in an otherwise wretched life is clearly expressed by the look playing across our faces. We wait, not wanting the gentleness and love and care and joy to leave. We wait, thinking that this is the end, this is where I will stay forever more. And then, when all the goodness, all those sensuous images are distracting us, we are violently ripped from our lovely pleasures. We are taken, kicking and screaming, towards another place, a place where nothing is as it seems in the beginning. Everything we see is definitely not what we get. We grab for a ripe peach on the tree, but when we open our palm, we find there’s nothing there but a rotting lemon with the worms nipping at our fingers. Life becomes hollow and empty, like a log slowly decaying in a supposedly beautiful forest. While we were once in a wondrous room, with beauty and awe radiating from every corner, we are now in an ever so frightening room, with a dismal grayness swirling like a hawk above its prey. While we thought we were entering another realm of joy when we opened the colorfully painted door, we stepped into an enlarging pit, falling and falling until nothingness floated in the air like the smell of death. We sit and let seclusion and desolation permeate our soul, and we think, this must be reality.
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