You push and I stayed. I wonder if you've noticed that I swayed?
I push and you move. I wonder how your grip releases so smooth?
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Night Whisper 8a
You push and I stayed. I wonder if you've noticed that I swayed?
I push and you move. I wonder how your grip releases so smooth?
Night Whisper 8
Drowning in this commotion, this Symphony of Sympathy; one tied to all connected in empathy.
The dissonance ringing loud to those listening, quieter still to to those whom I want to be.
I'm Okay With That
What I know and what I understand, is that removing you from my memory doesn't make me a better man.
That what was isn't now, and that's okay, because that bad night of my life was removed in the day.
Some scars are long while others are deep, what holds within the same, is that they all remind me of me.
I'll no longer regret or look back and wonder why.
I'll only look to the clouds and think of how high I can fly.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Oh, Well
You know that bubbling feeling you get in your stomach that just won't pass?
I've got that feeling right now and I wish it was just gas.
I kinda wish I was numb, that I could no longer feel.
But, that would be a lie, and I wouldn't be real.
I feel that tingle, that twinge, like the color change in the leaves.
I wish I was dumb to this thought, but I know what it means.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Unconcerned
I'm unaffected by you.
By your face, by your ways, by your actions, inactions, tears, jeers, smiles, lies.
Time flies when I'm having fun, or I'm near you and our time is done.
This negative effect that you have is boring; the rain isn't the only reason that the old man is snoring.
You're tired, and played. Others are the reason that I stayed.
Hands cleaned and wiped, I'll sleep easy tonight.
FUCK.YOU.
By your face, by your ways, by your actions, inactions, tears, jeers, smiles, lies.
Time flies when I'm having fun, or I'm near you and our time is done.
This negative effect that you have is boring; the rain isn't the only reason that the old man is snoring.
You're tired, and played. Others are the reason that I stayed.
Hands cleaned and wiped, I'll sleep easy tonight.
FUCK.YOU.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Night Whisper 7
My lips to your cheek as you rest your head; destiny speaks to fate, our story outloud read.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Off Course
You sit in your complacency playing a game of wait and see; wait for me, pray and plea, angrily, sanity.
You wonder why your time, won't come as easy as this rhyme; in your prime, grow a spine, cats lives no longer nine.
You expect life to just occur, but when has that happened ever; enjoy this precursor, passion does thirst for, solicit this paramour.
You see the colors begin to blend and question if this is the end; yet to mend, descend, ascend, change with the wind.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Night Whisper 6
And when comes the morning, I'll open my eyes,
And be thankful for my breath, and the lovely sunrise.
I'll take each moment, my life in a picture,
Being grateful for another chance, to have all that I wish for.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
False Romance
I fear a life that I cannot romanticize.
To see this life through bitter eyes.
To speak of this day as a maybe and not a yes.
To give each moment enough, though not my best.
To want but not enough to reach for.
To enjoy but not enough to care more.
To shed a tear but never enough to cry.
To live only to know that I will die.
I fear this life but I'm afraid it is true.
I wish I knew the answer. I wish I had a clue.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Night Whisper 5
I give. I refuse to fight. I lay down my arms.
I walk away. I look the other direction. I pretend you are not there.
I stand corrected. I beg your pardon. I made a mistake.
I was wrong.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
As the Sentence Begins
From the ashes of fate comes the forever of eternity.
Unity of the self; mind and soul joined.
Turmoil as a constant, unwavering yet not forseen.
Utilizing all that is wrong to form a bond of enduring strength.
Reaping all that I'm owed, sewn from peace and prosperity.
Enough is never still, complacency fully removed.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Conscience in Thought
Awake, again. Something she wished with all of her being that she would never have to be again. Being awakened to a life that she neither asked for nor wished to continue; a curse that has been thrust upon her for attempting to give the gift of peace to a life with no direction. Though, in return for her gift she lies here, still, awake.
As she lie awake, numb to the thought and knowing what the day has to bring, she listened to the sound of her other, her misbegotten master, as he breathes life into the death she so longer for.
"Erin, listen! I know our relationship has gotten a bit... stale recently, but that doesn't mean we have to give up so quickly! Just give us some time and we can... Hello? Hello?! Guess not."
"You know it was the right thing to do," spoke a quiet, soothing, voice. He felt her slender warm arms wrap around his waist and her head fall gently onto his back; her soft brown curls covering his shoulders like a warm, fleece blanket.
"Yeah." The only response he could bring himself to mutter. "I'm just so tired of this ridiculous cycle! Everytime I try to do right, to do good, to do what I need to do, I end up here. Alone."
"Alone," she thought. How she longed to be alone from this existence.
The cycle that he spoke of began long ago. One cycle of his life that he could never completely break free from. The cycle of love.
There is no count to say as to when this began, just that somewhere in life he never fully acquired the confidence required to make himself whole with another. He walked through life successful and free of most burdens. To most he seemed quite happy! Wearing a mask of peace and love, having eyes that saw love in all its grandeur, but always seeming to fall outside its gaze. Always the friend, though at best a part-time lover. Forever the maker never finding his match. This cycle begun in his adolescence now continuing to adulthood.
Thoughts to himself never making their way free of his throats strangling grasp; he would never dare dream of burdening another soul with such a silly problem. "I'm a man," he would say to himself, "Finding a woman is bad enough without everyone thinking I'm gay!"
As the days continued, the cycle flowed in its natural order, until the day she came into his life.
This figure!
Beauty so stunning that her light was barely out shone by the sun; eyes so radiant and smile so inviting. In the face of someone so incredible he the only thing that he could so... Flash an uneasy smile and walk from her sight.
Stop!
And he did.
Unknowing of where the voice came from, and feeling very uneasy of the odd feeling that was coursing through him, he began walking his course again when he heard in a distant part of his mind, "Why must you continue to move away from me?"
"Where are you," he spoke with a quivering low voice, "How can I hear you but not see you?"
As the last word slipped cautiously from his tongue, he felt a gentle touch at the small of his back. He turned, sharply, towards the source of this new found warmth, shocked but somehow relaxed at the sight that stood before him.
"You," he spoke slowly. "I've seen you before."
"Yes," spoke the lovely figure that stood before him, speaking her peaceful words directly to his mind while her lips remained still, locked in a smile that show nothing less than tranquility.
At her tallest she stood no further than his shoulders, eyes falling near directly to his chest. A slim figure, yet of womanly shape, the air about her engulfed any light that came near her like a black hole of serenity, while her hair, blowing so softly, could have been mistaken for the very wind itself. Never, such a sight, did his eyes ever think existed but in his most solemn thoughts.
"And from those thoughts I am given life," he heard just as easily as if the voice were his own.
"Who are you? Where did you come from? How can I hear you in my..."
"You hear me because I am from you. From the thoughts that have passed in your mind to the actions that have shaped your life, I have been there as your unseen guide; your conscience. I remained unseen to you because you need not know my face; nothing of your life needed more that an invisible touch until now. I know of your plight; your want for the love of another. I also know that your refuse to follow the simple directions of life in this matter, instead choosing to cut roughly across the grain."
"But how," he began.
"How can I be here, you ask? Easily. Think to yourself. How many other times has thought manifested itself to you in life? How many times have you wanted, then thought, then received? Is this any different? Save for the fact that you now face that which you thought only existed in thought."
He began to think to himself of doubt, but quickly washed it away. Something in her words seemed to feel true, though the likelihood of this new reality, that his conscience had taken form as his inner-want, was too much for him to accept.
But, he did accept this. Wholly within his being he accepted he into his life. At first as his mentor, guiding his fledgling heart towards a narrow cliff that it might one day take flight on its own. Now, unbeknownst to her, her role as guide has given way to a life of servitude. Forced to follow behind in his shadow, ignored just as such but attached exactly as close.
When she would say stop, he would go, unimpeded. When she would point to a likely match for him to pair with, he would yield to nothing, stopping himself from ever attempting a connection for the most lacking of reasons.
And now she lay here, anointed as his other by the tears that birthed her, bound to a body that refused to understand her thought. In their time together he has grown comfortable while she has shrunk to be more of a passing idea that a conscious thought. Her form growing stronger in feel and touch with every action he takes against her word. So much so that she no longer communicated directly to his mind.
"You must stop this, Matthew. You must let go of yourself."
Her words caught him off guard in a way not like before. He turned to face her, not prepared for the sight that would be forever etched in his memory.
"All that is within you has made me: your doubts, your worries, your hopes, and your fears. I am nothing more that you and nothing less than hope given life. But, mine is a life that should have ended long ago. You must let me go in order to take yourself back! These words that I speak are yours from within. The direction I give is yours that you know to follow. All that I give you was take from you! I was meant only to show you the life that lies behind thought. You found this form, me, because you chose me. Within that moment you were to realize that all you wanted could be yours should you take the steps of a man and seek it. Instead, you have become complacent, choosing to use this figment of happiness as an excuse as opposed to becoming more of yourself.
So, now you must choose again. Release me and let go of yourself or hold on to this glimmer and never see loves true light."
Again, as before, the moment seemed too real for thought. A wave crashed upon him with the vengeance of a tide on a new shore, washing away all footprints, leaving soft sands free to be made into their own path.
As she spoke, he accepted her words, and as his tears feel, she disappeared; her soft figure returning to nothing; her hair, now just a breeze; his heart growing stronger.
As she lie awake, numb to the thought and knowing what the day has to bring, she listened to the sound of her other, her misbegotten master, as he breathes life into the death she so longer for.
"Erin, listen! I know our relationship has gotten a bit... stale recently, but that doesn't mean we have to give up so quickly! Just give us some time and we can... Hello? Hello?! Guess not."
"You know it was the right thing to do," spoke a quiet, soothing, voice. He felt her slender warm arms wrap around his waist and her head fall gently onto his back; her soft brown curls covering his shoulders like a warm, fleece blanket.
"Yeah." The only response he could bring himself to mutter. "I'm just so tired of this ridiculous cycle! Everytime I try to do right, to do good, to do what I need to do, I end up here. Alone."
"Alone," she thought. How she longed to be alone from this existence.
The cycle that he spoke of began long ago. One cycle of his life that he could never completely break free from. The cycle of love.
There is no count to say as to when this began, just that somewhere in life he never fully acquired the confidence required to make himself whole with another. He walked through life successful and free of most burdens. To most he seemed quite happy! Wearing a mask of peace and love, having eyes that saw love in all its grandeur, but always seeming to fall outside its gaze. Always the friend, though at best a part-time lover. Forever the maker never finding his match. This cycle begun in his adolescence now continuing to adulthood.
Thoughts to himself never making their way free of his throats strangling grasp; he would never dare dream of burdening another soul with such a silly problem. "I'm a man," he would say to himself, "Finding a woman is bad enough without everyone thinking I'm gay!"
As the days continued, the cycle flowed in its natural order, until the day she came into his life.
This figure!
Beauty so stunning that her light was barely out shone by the sun; eyes so radiant and smile so inviting. In the face of someone so incredible he the only thing that he could so... Flash an uneasy smile and walk from her sight.
Stop!
And he did.
Unknowing of where the voice came from, and feeling very uneasy of the odd feeling that was coursing through him, he began walking his course again when he heard in a distant part of his mind, "Why must you continue to move away from me?"
"Where are you," he spoke with a quivering low voice, "How can I hear you but not see you?"
As the last word slipped cautiously from his tongue, he felt a gentle touch at the small of his back. He turned, sharply, towards the source of this new found warmth, shocked but somehow relaxed at the sight that stood before him.
"You," he spoke slowly. "I've seen you before."
"Yes," spoke the lovely figure that stood before him, speaking her peaceful words directly to his mind while her lips remained still, locked in a smile that show nothing less than tranquility.
At her tallest she stood no further than his shoulders, eyes falling near directly to his chest. A slim figure, yet of womanly shape, the air about her engulfed any light that came near her like a black hole of serenity, while her hair, blowing so softly, could have been mistaken for the very wind itself. Never, such a sight, did his eyes ever think existed but in his most solemn thoughts.
"And from those thoughts I am given life," he heard just as easily as if the voice were his own.
"Who are you? Where did you come from? How can I hear you in my..."
"You hear me because I am from you. From the thoughts that have passed in your mind to the actions that have shaped your life, I have been there as your unseen guide; your conscience. I remained unseen to you because you need not know my face; nothing of your life needed more that an invisible touch until now. I know of your plight; your want for the love of another. I also know that your refuse to follow the simple directions of life in this matter, instead choosing to cut roughly across the grain."
"But how," he began.
"How can I be here, you ask? Easily. Think to yourself. How many other times has thought manifested itself to you in life? How many times have you wanted, then thought, then received? Is this any different? Save for the fact that you now face that which you thought only existed in thought."
He began to think to himself of doubt, but quickly washed it away. Something in her words seemed to feel true, though the likelihood of this new reality, that his conscience had taken form as his inner-want, was too much for him to accept.
But, he did accept this. Wholly within his being he accepted he into his life. At first as his mentor, guiding his fledgling heart towards a narrow cliff that it might one day take flight on its own. Now, unbeknownst to her, her role as guide has given way to a life of servitude. Forced to follow behind in his shadow, ignored just as such but attached exactly as close.
When she would say stop, he would go, unimpeded. When she would point to a likely match for him to pair with, he would yield to nothing, stopping himself from ever attempting a connection for the most lacking of reasons.
And now she lay here, anointed as his other by the tears that birthed her, bound to a body that refused to understand her thought. In their time together he has grown comfortable while she has shrunk to be more of a passing idea that a conscious thought. Her form growing stronger in feel and touch with every action he takes against her word. So much so that she no longer communicated directly to his mind.
"You must stop this, Matthew. You must let go of yourself."
Her words caught him off guard in a way not like before. He turned to face her, not prepared for the sight that would be forever etched in his memory.
"All that is within you has made me: your doubts, your worries, your hopes, and your fears. I am nothing more that you and nothing less than hope given life. But, mine is a life that should have ended long ago. You must let me go in order to take yourself back! These words that I speak are yours from within. The direction I give is yours that you know to follow. All that I give you was take from you! I was meant only to show you the life that lies behind thought. You found this form, me, because you chose me. Within that moment you were to realize that all you wanted could be yours should you take the steps of a man and seek it. Instead, you have become complacent, choosing to use this figment of happiness as an excuse as opposed to becoming more of yourself.
So, now you must choose again. Release me and let go of yourself or hold on to this glimmer and never see loves true light."
Again, as before, the moment seemed too real for thought. A wave crashed upon him with the vengeance of a tide on a new shore, washing away all footprints, leaving soft sands free to be made into their own path.
As she spoke, he accepted her words, and as his tears feel, she disappeared; her soft figure returning to nothing; her hair, now just a breeze; his heart growing stronger.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Immortal Vision
I shall lie here and dream, of thoughts yet unknown; a realization of want, hope to my life shown.
And left not beyond, waiting for its chosen time, a horizon laid level; a sight true to my eyes; a peace for my spirit to revel.
Oh, and such a feeling, Wanton Hate doth tremble; for it feels fate lurch no longer does it walk nimble.
Whatever should greet me, shall heed such luster not shown in the sun; an elegant brilliance caused only by one.
Alas, I awake, removed harsh from my vision; life much the same; my hearts strengthened mission.
Momentary Retreat
Wherefore the sun rises, I cannot say. For the morn to shine? For the earth to warm? To begin a new day?
Each point is equal, necessities for life to sustain. Though neither point shows hate to the other, no ill points of disdain.
These actions hold strength, being they are all one to me. One happens not for praise, nor the other for selfish glee.
Take this thought as a moment, and behold its unknown brevity. Take steps each at a time knowing backwards is not the enemy.
I Know Catharsis
This release that says to fear, "Hate now begone, you are no longer needed here."
This voice that screams to those once contented, "Move far from this place should this tear to ever be mended."
The whisper that lets me know that you are there, "I shall be here, though not in sight. You shall breath me in, forever I am the air."
The echo from within and the quiet that follows, "Always should you listen, for these walls are not all hollow."
The grip that holds me and refuses to left go; the question that I ask though the answer I already know.
The want, the will, the peace that will always persist.
I know Catharsis and I refuse to accept anything but this.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
A Soul's Requiem
Here it lies passed, peace set to come, once finally to last.
Remorse filled with despair, a charcoal black choking back the air.
Sitting near but was one, a singular entity; the fallen's son.
Aching to within, sitting stoic and still; an understanding with the wind.
No questions left to ask, ease will not come, the time for answers has passed.
What's left is the end, to begin the last walk, where life and death blend.
From here to afar, away from it all, to call home to a star.
But, here he sets his place, this moment to hold; cold sullen face.
Staring to his twin father, eyes locked to nothing, soul not to bother.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Lady Divine
Moments growing strong as times power begins to ease.
Ripeness this fruit bearing a taste as nothing other.
Passion so strong, giving way to this soulful lover.
Such energy in a glance, that a look makes me numb.
Truth of it all, for you I shall succumb.
Oh, but to know you, to call all and mine.
I shall have you one day, you Lady So Divine.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Night Whisper 3
Ever present in my thoughts, you, ever so lovely; the brightest star shines no brighter, ever you above me. But a touch so electric, a sight thought not to exist; a wanting so strong, though never like this. Each moment new, birthed pure from the past before it; each second passed, slow, aching atonement. Gentle lips pressed tight, air slow to escape; calm strength, passion strong, love slowly we will make.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Echo
Did you hear it? That silent echo? The after effect of the noise.
Did it move you? Do you feel? Or do you maintain your poise?
Will you listen? Open mind? And let it wash you all away?
I bet you missed it. You closed your ears. You never heard what I had to say.
Night Whisper 2a
So, go now with the wind, be free with the breeze; let the night calm you still, let your mind be at ease.
Night Whisper 2
Such confusion, lost in this mental haze; waiting solemnly as moments turn into days. Wandering, wondering, "Is this life meant for nothing?" Holding tight to hope for even my thoughts are something.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Night Whisper #1
When hope in life is lost and I know not where to lean, I still have my hopes; I still have my dreams.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)