All waking hours blur
Into a seamless night.
No matter the sun’s dominance
In an azure hued sky,
The dreams reclaim me
Nor any hope sparks a light.
All waking hours blur
Into a seamless night.
No matter the sun’s dominance
In an azure hued sky,
The dreams reclaim me
Nor any hope sparks a light.
When the gusts of Winter left our teeth to chatter
A friend revived us with the warmth of laughter.
When all else failed and oblivion reared its head
A friend’s devotion kept our spirits high instead.
When life’s terrain grew too rough to traverse
A friend was always there, for better or for worse…
Originally written for a good friend, I share this piece with the world.
His self-esteem lies in a fetid puddle
Staring up at him in longing
Wishing to restore its place.
He tries to cup it within his palms,
To drink and in turn reinvigorate.
Alas, like all things in his life
He grimly watched his salvation
Trickle slowly through stiff fingers
As though his skin turned to stone
And soon, his heart followed.
For swiftly the tears of regret
Flow like Neptune’s sea
From burning eyes,
Eroding his grip and
Withering away his heart,
All hope is swept away
With the ebbing tide.
I met her at the crossroads.
She strode in like a pristine petal
Riding easy on a western breeze.
Strands of midnight flowed
Like shadows beneath a straw hat
Framing ethereal chestnut eyes
And a smile like Venus
Able to shatter any man’s guise.
She has one of those rare enchanting smiles
One that captivates an entire room immediately
With a flash of teeth and blush in her cheek.
Without reprieve, her smile brings courage to the meek.
He dreams about her far too often…
No matter the elixir he consumes.
Whether it be wine,
Or a dry martini,
A swig of codeine,
Or herbal remedies,
the reveries,
They never cease.
I would embrace the air around me
As it has grown thick with her aroma,
The ground she dances upon
As it has irrevocably become hallowed,
The vibrations in the ether as she speaks
For it selflessly grants, all auditors peace.
It saddens me that in this day and age, the majority of my generation cares more for what we display on the outside, rather than focus on the souls we stow on the inside. Until this trend diminishes, I do not see myself finding true love, but rather ignorant love.
Another note: If only we realized how full of shit each and every one of us really is, this world would be a better place
Hope is everywhere if you look for it.
It is in the green lights you get when you are late for a rendezvous.
It is a newborn baby’s cry, entering the world in a fit of confusion.
It is the seed sprouting its first tendril into the rich soil.
It lies at the bottom of a fountain resting with the desires of many.
Hope transcends in different form to all. But I find it of utmost importance to our human psyche, that we continue to hope in the eye of danger or uncertainty.
For the car you are driving may swerve uncontrollably, negating the lucky-light draw.
The babe may cease its cry due to a cause unseen by the practitioners.
The seed may soon be tainted with ghastly elements we pour into the earth.
And the coin you lay your dreams upon, may never be selected by the Gods.
We cannot allow ourselves to dwell upon those technicalities, for what will happen, will happen uncontrollably, sometimes inexplicably. But with hope, these negating possibilities needn’t bring us down. With hope, the negatives never shine through. They don’t plague our train of thought. With hope, we can simply look toward our desires and feel happy that they are even a possibility in this hectic world.
It’s like being tumble-dried; you never know where you will land next, but you know it can’t get any worse or for that matter, any better. Not until the end, not until the fucking end.