Tag Archives: poetry

You Go Around and Around

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Talking to the point of exhaustion.
Not understanding why you’re not listening.
It makes no sense these voices that are erecting a wall around me.
Why won’t you just let me be free?

This dance is one that takes it slow.
But when it does move fast, I am swept underneath the current.
A two step kind of night.
Where the sky meets the sea in chaotic harmony.

Voices in my head try to pull me away.
They try to confuse me into believing all of them.
Yet, I crave to hear only one voice.
A voice of hope, one that can cut through the darkness.

You’re still not listening to me.
You go around and around.
Playing Marco Polo with my emotions.
Entering into a rhythmic bustle that is busier than being alone.

These voices in my head tell me many things.
They contradict one another.
And they understand that they can win.
They know if I stop, they will take control.

But the truth is I will never stop hoping.
The voice I crave will come.
This test is going to end some day.
If it doesn’t then my whole belief is false.

But the voice has saved me before.
It has shown me love.
For the sword cuts deep, and pursues more than my brain.
It goes and penetrates my heart.

I am made clean every day.
I have a new shot every time I open my eyes.
A rebirth and a second chance.
Continually I fall to my knees and decide to breathe.

So listen to me.
Listen to my words.
Take this to heart.
You will not control me.

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A Living Smirk

Second hand smiles.
A glance forward.
A guise that emphasizes how happy we can be.
Or maybe a reminder that not all happiness is joy.

Smile for the pretty , pretty picture.
The cameras flash, the exposure being adjusted manually.
She speaks, “Make me look good please.
But don’t make me fake.”

Second hand acceleration into the known.
A second chance to not be alone.
A living smirk,
Highlighted by accents of blue.

She says, “Don’t let me quit.
Don’t let me burn out.
Help me to smile before a mirror.
Let me answer the questions I hide behind this smile.”

Second hand smiles.
A glance forward.
A guise that emphasizes how happy we can be.
Or maybe a reminder that not all happiness is joy.

Artwork By: Keighty Rae
Photo 1 (1)

 

 

 

The More We Learn the Less We Care

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

It never ends.
We keep on going while the clock is clicking.
We keep on moving while it ticks and tocks all day.
It never stops and asks us if we need to rest.

A little smile to the left; a little cry to the right.
Anxiety is behind me, and true love hopefully in front.
But he doesn’t necessarily think it includes him.
But if it does he hopes that it includes a wrist guard.

This time I am going to be kind to time.
For the more we learn the less we care.
The more we care the more we can learn.
As time marches on to more beginnings and endings.

It returns to the earth and ends up crying out.
When time ends and reclaims its former glory.
A semblance of control diminishes,
When we realize it is out of our hands.

At least it helps when you are the only one with headphones on.
Blocking out the noise that fills the air.
Marching forward and not looking back.
Learning as much as I can; trying to care a bit more.

But he tries a little too hard sometimes.
With a reach to the sky; a certain sparkle that’s left his eye.
A sore heart ready for another.
He breathes a bit harder these days.

But I am here with my jacket in my hands.
Ready to jump a little further today.
Maybe this time I will make it into the pool.
But if I don’t at least it was a thrill until the end.

And there he is too afraid to even jump.
Too afraid to learn that going up is the same as going down.
I hope the example is enough to hobble him along.
A little push into the new canon he could bring to his life.

We rise and we fall.
We go under; we come back up.
A slow passing of time.
A break neck speed of events.

We rise and we fall.
We dig a little deeper; we reach a little higher.
A snails speed passing us by.
A bullet train that ends up piercing our hearts.
A goodbye bleeding into hello.
As this clock ticks real slow.

Turbulence and Plane Rides

Hello. How are you?
I am wondering if it is okay to enter into this interaction?
To be honest and blunt.
To bring out a little bit of the bitter instead of covering it up with the nice?

You walk into a room and glance my way.
Never smiling always in disarray.
No, matter my words only half listening to what I have to say.
I thought we could be over this petty little game?

Snapping words when simple questions are asked.
Glares that come whenever I seem to laugh.
I am not sure you want to play this game,
But here you are deciding to do so for both of us.

Turbulence and plane rides.
Train tracks sputtering along.
Tight turns at high speeds.
Breakneck acceleration on country roads.

Slowing down to scowl.
Merging when to many cars are coming.
Try to be happy even if it isn’t your day.
Jut drive and do your best to stay in a place to pray.

Of course I am not perfect.
I let it get under my skin more than I should.
A bit passive aggressive to a fault.
But don’t worry…I’m working on it.

Hello. How are you?
Is it too much to ask that you understand some facial self control.
Reading you like a book.
But you know…I could be wrong.

Lock and Key

Photo 1

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

Sometimes I wonder things I shouldn’t.
But I guess that makes me human.
A man.
Flawed, but one day saved.

Sometimes I miss things that would love to find me.
A leech that breaches the edges of my skin.
Sometimes it seems right to give in.
When life feels dull and doing right seems wrong.

Under lock and key is a door to another world.
One where everything I know is flipped.
Where right is left and left is right.
But somehow up is still up and down, down.

The door easily found and the key not hard to find.
To enter is to see differently.
But not necessarily morally.
Sometimes it feels better to be in the dark.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the place where I am meant to be.
Taking refuge in a world that is against what I believe.
Easy, wide, and short.
Quick rewards, and quick thrills.

One that let’s me do all the things my flesh wants to do.
Early expressions with neatly wrapped packages.
Sitting under the lock and decorated with the key.
Oh, God… What is wrong with me?

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better not to live forever.
When death finally takes me to go into nothing.
To find peace in the ending.
Finite and not infinite.

But this feeling usually goes away.
How long it lasts is different day to day.
Sometimes it hurts to stay in the fray.
Especially when you all feel so far away.

Photo 2

Artwork By: Keighty Rae

It Would Nice to Have Window

Walls surround and call my name.
Not long before I fall asleep.
Not walls made of wood and plaster.
But walls made of black and other dark colors.

A room built.
A room that isn’t always the same.
Sometimes I am given a chair.
Sometimes there is nothing there.

My eyes go up.
My eyes go down.
It is hard to look left.
It is hard to look right.

I open my eyes some nights during sleep.
I look around inside of the dream.
This dream is sometimes hopeful and lovely.
But mostly it is a nightmare brought on by my lack of self esteem.

I am very aware of what I can do.
What I can’t do.
When I am stylized.
When I am talking out of my… you know.

It would be nice to have a window.
So that the light in the room can be shown in the night.
I am on a hill looking down and up.
Hoping in hope, to show people that I can offer a rope.

But the nightmare continues on.
Building more walls.
And resisting any calls.
But the hope is still there,  desiring to wake up and not despair.

This world is not in my control.
I cannot take down these walls.
Only Love has the power to shake up this room.
So I may better share the hope that I know to be true.

I am given a match.
I light it up, and drop it down.
The walls burn to the ground in the form of a tune.
I take up Your hope, and go out to build a better room.

The Truth Still Remains…

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating.
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.

Today is a good day.
Nothing is wrong.
Nothing has gone astray.
But the truth still remains… I miss you.

I see a family visiting family.
I see a friend moving away.
I found out I will miss them when I get back on a Sunday.
Even if that will be a glorious day.

A sorrow has gripped my throat.
A friend has gone back home.
Happiness is not enough,
For this feeling to go away.

There is this simple truth in the air.
It’s a good one I swear.
It hurts to be this far.
It hurts because we are close.

I miss you more than a shepard losing his flock.
I miss you because you left.
I miss you because you are not here.
I miss you because right now I wish to be there.

I miss you.
And I think that means I have love in my heart.
A love for my family and my friends.
Friends that I consider my family.

I miss you.
But more importantly know that I love you,
And I am here for you.
Even if I am miles and miles away.

My heart is breaking.
My eyes are sweating
The fibers of my being are crying out.
With a simple message in my heart… I miss you.