Fleeting flickers

I never wanted to be your whole world

That’s just too big a burden for anyone

And I’d surely tumble, sooner or later

I only hoped to be a few important moments

That you might chose to hold close and…remember

Poet of the Light © 2018

Comfort-less

 

Years have past but not without

my personal felt notice-

regarding each of those missed moments.

 

There still comes times

when I go mindlessly into other rooms

to initiate aflutter conversations

of something inspired to speak over

and the empty cold silence has to

drastically remind me- you’re gone.

 

I stand in a sorrowful dumbfounded mess

never really knowing, for just how long

let alone recalling…what day, today was.

 

Poet of the Light © 2019

Glint

 

It’s over

the flicker of hope

extinguished

by a gasping breath

exhaled too soon

thru a premature grin

 

The hollows of a hearth

cold and silent

broken darkness

all is as it was, again

 

Normalcy for me…lives on

 

Poet of the Light © 2019

Given time

You just have to forgive her

If ever you want to feel her heart

You have to look past her words

Then sink deeper between the lines

Her half smile is just a veil

To keep away unwanted questions

She couldn’t answer, even if she tried

Deep inside- she’s living lonely

Where her soul is void of light

Between the heartbeats and sighs

But she’ll pretend to everyone

She’s happy and loving life

She forgotten how to trust

Daring eyes and suspicious smiles

So she passes on their colors

And their broken promise lies

 

She works too hard to live- love

A broken dreamers way of healing

She spends her quiet time writing

About everyone else wishful life

She tells herself, she’s doing alright

Until those ghostly feelings

Sneak in and up along her side

The way frozen air surprises

All she can do is close her eyes

She learned denying is only futile

There’s no place left for her to hide

Vivid memories play havoc in her mind

Tear-filled emotions flow

Steeping into her ink words

And her life feels a bit smaller

I can only watch from afar regretting

Not having found her…first

Poet of the Light © 2019

Cobwebs and crowfeet

The lines on my face- are evidence

Of roads traveled, choices made

Not necessarily always mine- or finished

Some just appear for seemingly no reason

Thus, is the punitive signature of time, itself

But like inked words of any frayed book

They tell stories, some depicting for chapters

And yet others are much more subdued

Like a fog adrift at twilight along an ocean

Ghostly implications, purposely left hanging

While some are obvious, others are darker

Not all stories can be considered informative

Riddled with clues, thereby providing answers

Leading naive readers off a precipitous cliff

Some stories in books are merely like art

Subject to interpretation by individual readers

But always predicated on their true motive

Of what they hope to find or dismiss- sneeringly

Relying more on conventional restraints, idioms

Too afraid to learn or accept any new truth

Deceptively veiling their true inadequacies

Because they got lost, or really have no clue

Unable to comprehend the author’s thoughts

And yet, none of the lines alone can define them

In pictures- painted inside visiting minds by words

Greater is the challenge of peregrinating a heart

To appreciatively understand the trails and tales

Of roads life created or discovered by a person

Experiencing them unblemished in whispers

Risking knowledge lived with them from…inside out

 

Poet of the Light © 2019

 

 

Scuttlebutt

There’s a thousand different ways

I could spin it, slant its effect

My version of what happened

But truth has a way of seeping out

Even in depictions we try to hide

From the world and ourselves

Only a fool would dare bother- now

 

It seemed a bit odd and yet

Fashionably accepting, for even us

Maybe even too accepting

To look forward to a bit later

Like hours later, each night

As being some quick triumph

And then again further onwards

As in like tomorrow morning

Being somehow the new summit

To aim for, to conquer if but only

In the space in our convoluted minds

As far as getting over- it all, again

While we steep- in muck

 

Maybe in some foolish respects

That kind of mess we lived

Replaced what we had- and lost

And thereby replaced reality

Any sense of normalcy or love

And getting from here to there

In love was all a bit more perfunctory

Like breathing, unnotably

In our most mundane of daily’s

 

Perhaps along our heart’s pathway

We lost what it meant to be us

What it meant to love one another

When we threw the compass overboard

And simply headed to new horizons

Braving those head on waves

Unconcerned of the weather or hunger

As our souls simply sought

To bestow something greater to another

Without concern of what we might gain

Lacking any fear of landing anywhere

Least of all- here, in this place- today

 

All I know now, was in that moment

When our ship of love went down

Was seeing your image swim away

Until you were merely a mirage fading

You- never looked back once

I’d bet my life you would, I would’ve lost

Oddly, I feel now as if I won

 

I clung on the mast, and our loves flag

As I choked on waves of bitter truth

My body, my mind slowly grew numb

Floating off in the tide’s changing currents

Almost as if I remained, in nights darkness

Never setting anywhere close to-a bit later

As if they were tiny islands of refuge

That we had become so accustomed to

Until the charity of a drier shoreline

Bequeathing granules of time, spilt over

Offered me a place far from the wreckage

Of that shattered little sailboat of- us

Where the illusion of love existed

Far more than reality of love…for one of us

 

Poet of the Light © 2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Understandably

Love- is not painful by nature

Human perversion does that

Taking away its unique beauty

In order to claim ownership

Of love itself, all that it derives

Crudely etching one’s inscription

Across some fabric of delusion

 

Pain itself is discreetly infused

When the enchanted emotions

Of love is discolored, then abused

Only those who wish to misuse love

Would dare promote its wreckage

As being a necessity in loves quest

When the truth is, love only- loves

And humans, well they do the rest

 

Lust is who wears that false face

The true thief, of human hearts

Boldly stealing what otherwise

It could never obtain- or touch

Dragging us all most unwittingly

Into depths of sheer darkness

After tethering our deep fears

Submerged, we’re wet embers

 

It is there, in that dark palace

Where we are left abandoned

Far from where love intended

And the only thing we dare rein

Is our own infected imagination

Whilst our hearts beat onward

Its distinct song in silent hope

Our true lover will come along

And rescue us and truth of…love

 

Poet of the Light © 2019