For two seasons we shared in the endless pleasure of euphoria.
We were not in love, but we were lovers,
For we both belonged to another;
And on that night we said our final goodbyes
We tasted of pure ecstasy for one last time.
Though I feigned apathy, for long I burned in the fires of jealousy.
Did I fool myself and take cover in fallacies of not loving her?
I took counsel with my heart and it told me,
If it was meant to be it would be;
But still, reasoning and rationality couldn’t console me.
The ghosts of her sounds of ecstasy haunt me.
I am perturbed as I try to purge myself of her memory.
Tag: Writing
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At the crossroads where melancholia and sadness meet
The anguished drag heavy crosses on dark streets,
With hell’s heat beneath their feet. -
Thoughts flood in and intrude.
I must remain calm in the storm.
Torment rains down with stark reality;
I have dreamed of having peaceful dreams
But have only seen the underbelly.
Its rawness is hideous and scary.
Indeed in its presentation it is ugly.
My portion has been suffering
And I drink of that cup daily, unwillingly.
With a look of sincerity a solemn faced priest
Pulled me aside and told me:
Say 1 Our Father, 3 Hail Mary’s and 1 Glory Be.
I have sought heaven but for me are the gates open?
For long we have been suffering and hoping,
And hoping yet again.
Has the darkness become my bedfellow
And perpetual anguish my friend?
Lovers see my pain and tell me they love me,
But by the dawning of the morning light
They are gone ironically.
Understanding has only crossed my path in passing.
The spirit yearns for the substance of love
And something substantial and lasting.
About my life, I put pen to paper,
But where do I begin?
They accuse me of apostasy
And desire to tar and feather me;
Thoughts of their hypocrisy increase my anxiety.
In my lament, I remember my mother’s torment;
The nights of crying uncontrollably.
Was it somehow acquired or was it passed down to me?
In the scope of things does it matter at all?
Maybe the answers could be found in my genome
But it is in my own thoughts that I roam.
What is there to say of bitter winters
And the depressed drinking chamomile tea by the warmth of fires?
What is there to say of past loves of yesteryear who are no longer here?
The nothingness and silence of the darkness offers no solace. -
I was wounded and you patiently tended to me.
I was cold and you brought me inside of your warmth.
You are a woman among women, to who a blue diamond is akin.
Just to see your hair fall on your contour is amazing,
And the radiant glow and shimmering of your skin.
You are the most beautiful flower in heaven’s garden;
Even in their vastness, unknown galaxies
whisper to one another jealousies as they behold your beauty.But what can I give?
What can I give to an angel who spread her white wings and embraced me?
Who with tears in her eyes reached down and rescued me?
We cried together that night,
And while she held me I started to write our story;
The title: That Night I Witnessed an Angel In All Her Glory
The debt that I owe is worth so much more than diamonds and jewelry.
My love, I have given you my heart but what more can I render?
I kissed her and whispered, To your love my angel, forever I surrender.
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Sorrowful tears drop on flowers. Eyes cry over what was and what is no longer.
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As I awake, a quiet storm in my spirit brews.
Through loving eyes a beautiful angel appears in my view.
My love, if you only knew how I see you;
If you only knew. -
In its inception it could be based on hearsay or misguided perception.
As a tiny seed it is watered and nurtured and soon becomes a deep rooted tree
bearing the fruits of malcontent, violence, superstition and ill intent.
The poisonous fruit invades the bloodstream with sinister efficiency, mercilessly infecting its host.
The virulence of its effect is evident in the pupils of the eyes.
It can lie dormant for many years, sometimes revealing itself
in the form of vengeful words and angry tears.
The sweetness of the fruit masks its bitterness in the stomach.
It is not well digested;
With the absorption of poison, the heart and organs become infested.
Inside, the spirit writhes, withers, and groans as the infection takes its toll.
A shake of the hand is manifested and a deceptive smile,
For it is behind the glare of darkened eyes that the secrecy of hatred lies. -
In the place she once left a hole, a flower now grows.
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The tears that run in silent pain
Are dried and then they run again.
For long the flood of tears are held;
They suffer in a quiet hell.The dam it breaks when tears are filled.
The blood it runs when it breaks the will.
The darkness calls on winter nights;
Through darkened eyes they seek the light.The light is sought but still it’s dark.
If we should fall, tell the world we fought
A valiant fight with all our might;
Our flag in cold wind through the darkest night. -
In the night’s darkness under a full moon alone he cries.
The night breeze on his face he feels, as the winds shake the trees.
As tears stream he looks up at the sky and falls on his knees,
And with a loud voice he screams, Oh no god please.
For to know his love is gone is torture and forlorn.
In his weeping, tears cover the golden locket he had given her;
The blood of his love permeates his clothing and touches his skin.
He had found her, with blood around her, eyes open.
He picked her up and held her, and kissed her tender,
And tried to resurrect her with all his will;
But on that night, in her beauty, his angel lay still.He will carry her; with a heavy heart eternally he will carry her.
In the night, he will reach for her and she will not be there.
On the pillow she slept are the strands of her hair.
In the space she lay, now he lies and says a quiet prayer;
On her pillows and hair, fall the drops of his tears.His Prayer:
Oh God, please open heaven’s gates,
As I now in your hands place my fate,
For she is my heart and without my heart I cannot live.
I have wept and I have cried with nothing left to give.
My angel has been taken away from me,
And now I again seek to see her in your glory.
For my sins and my many transgressions please forgive me,
As I leave this world to write the rest of my story.
Oh Holy Mary, Mother of God please hear me.He lies still. From open eyes tears still spill.
Silence Falls.
Intimate Compositions 