All the Things

Tags

All the Things, creative, faith, Life, lyrics, music, poems, poetry, song, thoughts, verse, writing

All the things I’d promised me,

The things I’d do, the things I’d see,

Now disappeared.

The time I wanted oh so much,

The time to feel, the time to touch,

Now faded grey.

 

All the hours I’d wasted then,

I knew one day would come again,

Desert me now.

And all the words I’d left unsaid,

Now dance like ghosts inside my head,

Still haunting me.

 

But if I’d never caught your eye,

And if I’d never seen your smile,

Would I be still left wondering why,

And would it have been worth the while?

 

All the hands I’d never reach,

What was it that I had to teach?

Forgotten now.

The movies that replayed my days,

Ended in much happier ways,

Can’t live them now.

 

But if I’d never caught your eye,

And if I’d never seen your smile,

Would I be still left wondering why,

And would it have been worth the while?

 

All the things I’d promised me,

The things I’d do, the things I’d see,

Now disappeared.

The time I wanted oh so much,

The time to feel, the time to touch,

Now faded grey.

 

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Giving

Tags

Creative writing, Giving, poems, poetry, thoughts, verse, writing

I have grown good

At giving things away:

A word, a look, a plaything;

Objects gathering dust on shelves

Which serve only as a reminder,

Hollow and spent,

Of the emptiness of detachment;

A touch, a smile, a heart;

A muscle with purpose usurped

Scratches on the page

Of another’s life;

A hope, a wish, a future –

And of what use is a future

When its past has been given away? –

An entry erased from the ledger:

Yes, I have grown good

At giving things away,

Giving until this shell

Is empty.

Different

Tags

Change, creative, poems, poetry, thoughts, verse, writing

Is the world any different

Now

Our hands and heads are bound

By circuitry,

Invisible waves that pass

Above, through and beyond us,

Weaving webs spider-like

Catching us all with a silk that we are

Powerless to resist,

In wonder gazing at the virtual

World

Ever expanding

Its horizons and ours,

And communication exists

In waves unseen –

Yet hasn’t that always been;

Words face to face lose meaning

Somehow

So why not talk to the invisible,

The creations of wishful desires,

The imagined fulfillment of

Imagined dreams,

The love that was always an illusion

Born on the ether,

But isn’t this the world

Unchanged from when youth held promise

And dreams fell from one hand to another

And to the ground,

So we move on

Ever led by the New

Which searches just as we do,

So tell me, please,

Is the world any different

Now?

Casual Hands

Tags

creative, fantasy, Memory, nostalgia, poems, poetry, thoughts, Truth, verse, writing

I remember

The Sun on our backs,

Shirts tossed aside

Like gum

Deserted by its flavour

Which hung on our lips

As bitter-sweet future memories,

Ones we could as yet

Not see,

Nor wish to have

On endless days,

Days which built the frames

From which we’d have

The clearest view

Or merely hang,

Clothed in success

Or failure

For all to see,

Not realising that, as

In childhood’s garb, we pass unnoticed

So our shadows would fade

In time’s relentless passage.

I remember

Days that stretched far

Beyond the hours

Swept aside by casual hands,

Days in which the rooms held promise

And the ceilings were so high,

And my hands held

All that I knew,

And I forget the things

I buried in the yard

Hoping that they would stay

Beneath the earth and rock,

Not realising that their ghosts

Like the silence of the night,

When even the sweetest dreams won’t rise,

Would haunt the shadows

That I could never set free.

I remember

A Sun that burned

Only in tales

That I’d wished were true.

No Epitaph

Tags

creative, Duality, Epitaph, Honesty, poems, poetry, thoughts, Truth, verse, writing

A life lived less seriously,

With perspective slanted,

Or perhaps not,

A view more allied to the needs of others,

Yet flippant and irreverent,

Charged with the wit of the ages,

The omniscient eye,

Objective and calm,

With a mischievous glint,

In equal measure both,

A panacea and an irritant,

A wind that blew in,

And left without farewell,

Its legacy of lightness,

A smile behind the eye,

A touch that I was glad to know,

That stays with me,

Illuminates my darker days,

Not so much an epitaph,

It’s just that sometimes,

I think of you,

That’s all.

Last Thoughts from a Quiet Room

Tags

creative, death, Fear, loss, poems, poetry, Solitude, thoughts, verse, writing

1. (Rage)

Burning with hatred

Like bile in my throat

Another reaction

I wear like a coat,

How could this happen

To one such as me

The cruel and the selfish

Are all that I see,

I’ll spit my last breath

With venom and vile

At those more deserving

And leave with a smile,

And you with your hope

I leave in my wake

As I plough my furrow

For sanity’s sake.

 

2. (Regret)

All the things I’ll never do

Ring through my head

Like the desolate bells

Of New Year’s mass,

Their promise so clean

Like the crispness of frost

Dissolving with time

And age’s fickle kiss,

All the empty places

Once written in my heart

Lie like wrappers discarded

By last year’s favoured children,

All the flesh I’ll never touch

Once the lure of youthful days

Haunt the hollows of my eyes

Then fade like spectres past,

All the words I thought I owned

Now rattle through this house

A jumbled case of scratches

That fail to mark my time.

 

3. (Sorrow)

A thousand salted rainbows

Seep slowly from your eye,

They sigh their words of sorrow

Sign scars beneath your skin.

The fragrance of your anguish

Which fills an empty room,

The memories it brings me

Cuts deeper than these wounds.

You, curled like sorrow’s foetus

I bring you only pain,

Prostrate like a crucifix

I cannot heal you now.

And I will leave you nothing

But emptiness and doubt,

Stripped and bound in ruined skin

To never feel again.

 

4. (Love)

Kiss these lips

With passion now

As if it were

For the first time.

 

Take this hand

And feel the heat

That burns inside

Above all else.

 

Hold me now

A fragile beast

And take this love

My gift to you.

 

Take this hand

Fingertip kiss

And keep it safe

Within your heart.

 

Kiss these lips

Before they fade

From pastel pink

To night-cold blue.

The Awakening

Tags

Awakening, Communication, creative, dream, fiction, isolation, Philosophy, Prose, short stories, thoughts, writing

     A wash of faces hovered above me like a crudely painted ceiling fresco. Eyes, some filled with hope, others relief, bore into me like burrowing beetles. Beyond them an antiseptic ocean of white stretched as far as my own eyes could see; but I was prone, lying like a whale slowly exhaling its last on a beach the colour of gold.

     There were voices; voices which swirled over me like bees returning to the hive, heavy with nectar. Their sweet words bounced between my ears futile in their attempt to make sense of themselves. The sounds meant nothing to me, and neither did the tones which were targeted in my direction. Did the faces expect a response? Part of me guessed that they did, but I could not fathom the reason.

     The expectation behind the staring eyes was palpable, and even my forgotten, deadened senses could taste it. As for why, well, I could find no explanation. I looked back up at the waves as they crashed and dispersed before my eyes and realised, at last, that not one of them meant anything to me.

Mermaid

Tags

creative, dream, fantasy, hope, inspiration, poems, poetry, thoughts, verse, writing

Today I am a mermaid

My heart as open

As the ocean.

In sunlight’s silver shards

I dance and sing

To Neptune’s tune,

Through the sweet transparent brine

I twist and turn

No limits known,

Led by a rainbow ecstasy

My pleasures are

My only guide.

Today I am a mermaid,

Tomorrow I will be

A unicorn.

Solitude

Tags

creative, Depression, loss, poems, poetry, Solitude, thoughts, verse, writing

Solitude rose

Like an autumn sun,

Early rays pallid

Burning through comfort’s

Cloak of mist,

Casting down light

On what had lain hidden:

Shadows growing longer,

Reaching out like

Venomous snake-roots,

Twisting digits around a heart

Cosseted by inertia

And complacency’s kiss:

Too late the memories of Summer,

Their faces fading like Sun bleached lines

Whose watered paint marks

Had hoped to stay,

Lost already to Winter’s

Future cold,

As creeping silent

From shadow to life

Solitude takes hold.

Against the Tide

Tags

Communication, creative, Creative writing, Depression, emotion, free-form, poems, poetry, thoughts, verse, writing

Brought his thoughts out

Into the light,

Let the rays of gold

Breathe warmth into each

And everyone,

Exhaled and watched

Their woody shells,

Grow their hardened spines

Against the tide

Of other’s eyes,

With steel heart

And stubbled soul

Stood beyond the crowd,

And watched himself as

He slowly sank

Below a malignant

Horizon.