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

Otherwise

Haphazardly, in the process of finding ourselves,

we can still get lost, become self-complacent.

Becoming far too consumed on one focal point

that we are more like some horse with blinders

just plodding along- while in our mind

believing we’ve just finally hit our stride

and more important, way out in front of everyone else.

Never even noticing we are the only ones in a race

and missing life and all the scenery along the way.

There is something to be said of an old adage,

of stopping to appreciate the roses along the way.

I’d prefer to be a horse in some pastoral setting,

roaming mountainous green meadows- unencumbered

than some cosmopolitan rat chasing…toxic crumbs.

 

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

 

 

 

Phobic

I fear now- even your most faint

Of whispers more than you know

For they may steal away remnants

Beheld as my treasures of heart

Like massive arched headers

Scattered amongst the ceiling

Resting on old slim tall timbers

Stress cracked alone in darkness

Sleeping spider webs do hang

Still clinging to lost fragments

Of your scent, kiss, warm touch

Along with pictures and even

Yesterday’s shattered dreams

When your love…knew me

 

Poet of the Light © 2018

 

Aftertaste

The harsh bitterness

Of the once sweet rain

We danced and made loved in

On far too many days

Now only reminds me of

The immense pain

An unending smothering

A fire too quickly extinguished

I felt, as you were leaving

For a love you said was destined

Long before you ever kissed, me

Long before you said the same

When you first stole my heart

And I- freely let it go- to you

How else, could I feel- now

And if nothingness had a flavor

Surely, I was- that, inexplicable sour

My fruit of love- withering away

In the depth of darkness

In that place in my heart

Where you…once came

 

Poet of the Light © 2018