My own thoughts slay me.
The torment of the lonely
Are long past memories.
On the other side of the mirror I drown,
But they can’t see me.
The black pitch consumes
Everything in totality.
When love left me
The fallacy of normality
Was shattered utterly;
A couple walk by in the rain
And kiss passionately …
I stare keenly;
Suddenly, I am overcome with envy.
Category: Poetry
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Oh you men of war, will you not fight?
You scribes and poets, will you not write?
You sorrowful and desolate, will you not tell of it?
You great orators and storytellers,
Will you not let your voices be heard?
You lovers of decadence, will you not indulge?
You long downtrodden and desolate,
Will you not state your claim in angered passion?
You upright men of valor, will you not give your lives for your children?
You beautiful mothers, will you not be their comfort and their strength?
You aged ones with beautiful silver hair,
Will you not impart your wisdom upon us and tell us of the years?
You eagles, will you not soar and spread your wings in heavenly winds?
You rivers and streams, will you not be my peace?
You tempestuous seas, are you not blue and deep?
You who hold back long held tears, will you not weep?
You of my kin who have gone on before me,
Do you not live through me?
You who have been kissed and held by me,
I love you deeply, can you not see? -
From the pressure of pain and the fire in us,
In our constant agony we have become walking diamonds,
Rare and precious, to be beheld in our raw form unpolished
Yet flawless, in beautiful array of different shapes and colors,
Shining brightly under the heavens, one by one coming out of the darkness
With a long trail of tears behind us. -
Black waterfalls flow over white silk pillows.
Through sweet honey you speak to me.
Without heels you stand at 5’4″ naturally.
Glistening rivers in mid spring are your skin;
Your eyes are a revelation of the heavens.
The contour of you neck is beautiful and feminine.
Your silhouette takes away my breath;
On that night, we became one under the light of the stars …
From the crown of your head to the soles of your feet you are adored.
Let us lie together so I can eagerly whisper, mi amor.
Words can’t be spoken of deep love and sincere emotions.
The flow of your sensuality is like the movement of the oceans.
You are my comfort; you are my warmth.
Without your presence and your essence I am lost.
Sing me a beautiful song, and let me rest my head
In the ataraxia of your arms.
The softness of your skin is akin to endless rose pedals;
Your scent, white gardenias in early summer.
In our lives we have both suffered
But have now found healing in each other.
I have had many lovers, but you are like no other;
Your understanding of my character is a natural wonder;
The way you read me is certainly uncanny.
Through loving brown eyes is how you see me. -
She finally found herself after the turmoil and the tears,
Though the process of her healing would take several years.
Her heart was delicate, but the people she trusted the most never protected it.
In fact, they were the ones who tried to break her spirit.
A stark lesson in the realization that the ones you love, don’t always love you.
The lowest point in her story was when she recognized that it was true.
The heartbreak she must have felt places the reader directly in her shoes;
Seeing the coldness of the world through her eyes and those sleepless
Nights she wailed and cried, is enough to make the reader cry;
Even more so, is the fact that she was abandoned
Even though they knew that on that faithful night she could have died.
Her triumph in the late chapters served to be an emotional roller coaster.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning, and her story is far from over. -
With an affectionate touch and passionate kiss
The subtleties in-between finally rose to the surface,
Revealing true feelings of love in glorious bliss. -
Still the sadness comes and the tears run,
But with every battle we learn to overcome;
We are tired but we will endure.
The threshold of our pain is extended
At that moment when we think we can’t take anymore.
Daily we go to war with our shields and swords;
The resolve in our eyes causes the earth to stir and the eagles to cry;
Our tears saturate the soil and our lament pierces the sky.
One day we will be transformed and dwell in light.
We are the stars that shine and beautify the night;
We are the sun in the foreground that gives the moon its light;
We are those subtly beautiful moments;
We are the feelings of euphoria felt;
We are a beautiful song that makes the heart melt;
In our dreams we walk through peaceful fields . . .
We are the fireflies at night that magically light up redwood trees.
We are the essence of the summertime, when sunshine
Highlights the vast array and the many beautiful patterns of butterflies;
We are eagles feeling heavenly winds under our wings
Soaring in the magical realm of vast skies;
We are walking diamonds formed from the pressure of our pain
And the fire in our eyes. -
We were dancing and I went to get drinks;
Your oratory moved me, and I liked the way you think.
I looked back at you, and you smiled at me.
To the bartender I said loudly,
Double shot whiskey, a bottled water and a vodka cranberry.
Upon returning I couldn’t find you;
Perhaps another enticed you.
Did you go to the restroom?
I walked around looking for you with a slight frown;
Another three songs came on, but you couldn’t be found.
Perhaps you left abruptly because you didn’t like me,
Or the music was too loud?
Oh well;
Bartender! Double shot whiskey, another round! -
Is there redemption to be found in suffering?
Is there nobility in enduring incessant pain?
Can darkened eyes see blue skies through constant rain?
Are we not mortals set in our ways?
Do we not dread the end of days?
Do we not work our fingers to the bone
And apply for loans with interest to be repaid?
In the totality of our lives as the ninety nine percent, are we not slaves?
Do we not have dreams that are unseen?
Do we not weep for ourselves in the four walls we dwell?
Are babies not born into a polluted world of living hell?
Do we not live on the edge risking our lives to feel alive?
Do we not indulge in vices to escape our own minds?
Do we not self medicate because conventional therapy offers no escape?
Have we not prayed and prayed to see nothing change?
Do we not try to hide our pain from the eyes of our children?
Is there a magical pill to a new beginning?
Are we condemned to a fiery lake for our constant sinning?
Do we not hold back tears when in the company of our unknowing peers?
Have we not battled and battled the torment of irrational fears?
When it is late and we remain awake, do we not contemplate our fate?
Do we sometimes not break from the heaviness of the weight?
Do we not constantly mentally write and rewrite our own eulogies?
In each other do we not find beauty?
Do we not remember first kisses in the sunshine of the summertime?
When I see her, do I not see an angel in my mind?
Through the storm will I fall in the field or will I survive?
Does the vengeance in my blood manifest in my son’s eyes?
In our listlessness do we still look to the skies?
In my plight am I misunderstood?
Do I hold back my love or give one hundred percent as I should?
In the loves I have lost, would I change the outcome if I could?
If I had the power would I resurrect my mother?
Do my weaknesses reflect the genetics of my father?
In my pursuance of success, should I even bother?
Is the world rife with decadence and are the years becoming stranger?
Have I become a recluse with unjustified anger?
From the beautiful sentiments I relayed, does she not remember?
In the affects of my childhood do I continue to suffer?
If it doesn’t kill you does it really make you stronger?
Can the moments of peace be made to last longer?
Can two or three small yellow pills cure chronic insomnia?
What qualities in particular make a good lover?
Did the chicken come before the egg, or is it the other?
Should I have stayed, or should I have left her?
Am I both a victim and a survivor?
Do I protect the appearance of vulnerability with a gruff exterior?
Do I approach the advent of adversity in a rational manner?
Are people with cogent minds better orators?
Is marriage better than being a perpetual lover?
Was it the allure of the exterior, or did I really love her?
Did I say something regrettable in my anger?
Are the questions pertinent? . . . I wonder. -
In a nutshell his life was a constant hell.
Reread carefully, if you have somehow
Missed the purgatory of his story.
Intimate Compositions 