What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

Category: Poetry (Page 19 of 36)

While She Sleeps

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 While she sleeps
I stare into a wild unknown
Seeking out the better parts of me
Wanting to make them real.
 
While she sleeps
My heart drifts one way
While my mind drifts the other
One must lead and one must follow.
 
And I choose
While she sleeps
My heart must win the moment
Because my mind has been so distorted.
 
To love…
Without assumption and without condition
In the silence I will wait
In my hand will be the answer
In my heart will be the key
And in my mind will be a resolve to see these choices through
To the end
And she will know that I am here waiting
While she sleeps.
 
Ω

The Unbridled Truth Within Us

In the finite sands of THAT time
She called, she came, she wanted
She took me
She left me
She took me again
And now I laugh as a lump of flesh on her bed
Never wanting to leave
Never wanting to say a word
But the unbridled truth within me.
 
Do I give myself to the One?
Or do I save myself for something I will never find?
Those demons, ah those demons
Fucking with me even in my moments of joy
Teaching me what I want 
By giving me what I don’t
Tying me up in the web of my own design
Leaving me for dead
Fighting desperately as I cling to hope of salvation.
 
As the sun sets and the horizon comes alive with color
I sit in subtle gray
Wondering about that moment when I knew
That moment when I saw her 
And realized that the quiver in my legs
Was not from fear alone.
I wonder what I have to offer this woman
I search, look, ask and struggle
And I find nothing but the hope in my own eyes.
 
Through the night I toss and turn
Looking for the dream to bring me joy
I reach for her, nothing
This is not her affair
This is mine and mine alone
And this weight alone I will bear
So I stare into the void in my own mind
And wonder if I can defeat it
To show her the love that is me beyond this thought.
 
Alone I watch the Sun bring itself to view
The wonders of nature stir the Soul within
As the music of the Heavens awakens the rest of me
Head pounding I take a weakened look
At the empty spot residing next to me
And I can see her there
A figment of my imagination
Or my heart begging for a reprieve?
To that I think the answer lies somewhere in between.
 
In missing her I find the pathway to my heart
I hope and pray the answer we will find
In our next meeting
When in the finite sands of another time
She calls to me, she comes, she wants
She takes me
She keeps me
To take me yet again
And we laugh as crumpled mounds of flesh on her bed
Never wanting to leave
Never having to say a word
Yet knowing the unbridled truth within us.
 

When (Poem)

 
 
 
 
 
 
I withhold
When I don’t know why I’m angry
I remember
When I simply want to forget
I create
When I just want to sit and watch you
I hurt
When I truly want to forgive.
 
I argue
When I wish that she would hold me
I complain
When I would rather feel her kiss
I scream
When I would rather say I love you
I fear
When all I see is darkness.
 
I talk
When I simply want to listen
I doubt
When I know I see the truth
I fight
When I’d rather purely love her
I cry
When it’s the laughter that I want.
 
I hold tightly
When I know I should let go
I let go
When I know I should be clinging
I question
Everything thing I know
I answer
With a distinct and noble lie.
 
I want more
When I should be needing less
I see what was
When I should be seeing now
I know I’m human
When I tear my life to pieces
I know I’m Divine
When I love me just the same.
 

Single Touch

 In the candlelight lays destiny
In the moment there is a mountain of truth
Wanting…needing…knowing
Reaching out for an answer to the call
Seeking for each other’s hand
Longing for that single touch
Than another
And another
Until there are too many to count
And we are lost once again in a place without time.
 
In the morning awakes destiny
Aglow with the passion of a remembered lust
Searching…reaching…taking
Not letting go and grasping all the same
Needing each other
Reaching to give that single touch
Than another
And another
Until they become too many to count
And the Earth stands still as the Lovers dance.
 
There are no questions
In the moments of honest ecstasy
Longing…sweating…falling
The two become one in the soft voice of forever
Eternity is calling
Demanding nothing but a single touch
Than another
And another
Until they become too many to count
And the mind’s defeat resounds in the sounds they have never made before.
 
They are one
In that single touch
That never ever ends.
 

He is Nothing

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Why do we seem to ignore
Or forget
Or exclude
Those who want to be there the most?
 
I cannot run from you, from me, from we
And I’m tired
Tired of chasing
An invisible shadow
Lost in the creation of its mind
Running from itself
From me, from we
From the nothing in her to the desire in me
The sadness shows, it grows.
 
It’s easier to turn and fight
And absorb the blows and stitch the scars
Than it is to run from her
Or to her, chasing the shadow
Or wish for something that is not there
As the blood runs down my weary face
I wish I was them, those who seem to matter
As the pain helps me lose the thought of her.
 
The Fighter needs no one
For the corner of his box is empty
Until the bell rings
And he meets the other lonely Soul
In a place where only one can survive
He stands and withstands
Without excuse
Fanfare is only for the champion
The beloved one.
 
Please, my old friend Rage, come and talk to me
Raise me up and turn me to stone
A rock, hard to the touch but a treasure to the sculptor
The one who sees a treasure in the mess that I am
And loves the art more than the air she breathes. 
 
There she might caress me
And turn this stone to wonder
The man to god, this god to Love
There is nothing in between
But a blur as her hammer goes to work.
 
Or there she might sing to me
Lull me to sleep with some sweet melody
Sooth the savage beast as Lovers often do.
Silence. Instead.
There is nothing in the darkness for me.
 
For them, plenty.
For me, the emptiness of space
As I inhale he ether and pretend it has a flavor
As I hear my old friend Rage calling out to me
“I am here, and you will never be alone.”
 
I smile in the rendition
But sigh in the subtle resolve
Gone to sleep in chaotic melancholy
The Fighter, the Lover, the man
Left to stray as some reluctant memory
He cries, alone, waiting for the bell to ring at last
Knowing that as the blows rain down from places he can’t see
That darkness, sweet darkness, will be the loser’s prize.
 
For he is nothing
And he has lost without even parting from his stool
It was not his fight to win
He was simply the body paying the price for the heart’s own folly
So now he stands
Waiting for the lights to fade.
 
ω

my Sweet Affinity

How much is too much
Of me?
How much can you hear?
How much can you see?
How much can you bear 
Of me, my Sweet Affinity? 
 
Which time is the last time
You’ll be
Smiling at my words?
Wanting to hear from me?
Oh how much can you bear
Of me, my Sweet Affinity?
 
Which moment gives the rest
A loss of dignity?
When I don’t exist at all
In the Sunrise that you see?
Oh how much can you bear
Of me, my Sweet Affinity?
 
I pray, I struggle and look for signs
Or a simple, golden key
To unlock a moment’s saving grace
To set the question free
Just how much can you bear 
Of me, my Sweet Affinity? 
 

I F*cking Love You {Adult Language}

You touched me there
And I awakened
The light inside of me burst to the heavens above
God Herself took notice
And smiled…
 
I try to find the words
To describe this feeling
The only thing that seems to do this justice
The only thing that comes out of me 
Is…
 
I fucking love you
I love your face
I love your eyes
I love your hair
I love your smile, your wit, your state of Being
I love your voice
I love your skin
I love your …well, you know
I love your intelligence
I love your teeth
I love your legs
I love your…yeah that too
I love your back
I love your neck
I love your arms, your shoulders
I love your feet
I love your knees
Yes, I love that…damn.
 
I love fucking love you
I love your passion
I love your devotion
I love your brain
I love your ability to swim as I try to drag you under
I love your strength
I love your heart
I love your mind, your way of thinking
I love your sensibility
I love your commitment
I love that you’ve survived
I love what you know and what you don’t
I love learning when you are my teacher.
 
Yeah, I fucking love you.
 
I love how you put me in my place
And how it is always a place much higher
Than I ever thought I should be.
 
Yeah, I fucking love you.
 
So I’ll close my eyes and drift to dream
Knowing that you know
Feeling that you feel
Believing that you believe.
So when you touch me there again
And I awake
I can whisper in your ear the phrase I know you long to hear
 
I fucking love you.
 
Ψ

Sing to Me

Sing to me my darling
Let me hear the melody I seek
Those notes that echo in my ears
Creating hope in happy, honest tears.
 
Sing to me this lonely night
As the tears flow where they may
Let that spot in you that loves me true
Touch that spot in me born for you.
 
Sing to me my only
Invite me where few have ever been
Show me hope in timeless faith that lives
So that Love may be the gift it gives.
 
Sing to me that song
You’ve taught me how to sing
So that I may stand and give my vow
And see such power in here…and now.
 
Sing to me in a whisper’s tone
Bent softly through my mind
As if a moment lost in human time
Was the only human’s natural crime.
 
Ah, smile and take my hand in yours
Let truth and church bells ring
Although once I fought myself to see
Now I simply wish you’d sing…to me.
 

I Am Not An Island

 
I am not an island
To be sheltered from the world
To be kept isolated by a sea you have created
Unsure of what is out there
But needing to know all the same.
 
What is there to hide
From me my lover?
What are you keeping me from
As the tide crests upon the shore?
The answers cause a rolling of the eyes.
 
We pretend awash in awkward mediocrity
that we bask in a light of awesome gratitude
In the morbid isolation that fear creates.
Yet we falter, we shrink before the embrace has even ended
Our islands are not here, but where we stand separate from the truth.
 
I do not care about excuses
That would force me into the closets of your life
I want freedom, I want to know
to be a part of the land and sea not me
But you, your world, your remarkable story.
 
I will not settle for being anonymous
In a world riddled with mediocre anonymity
No, I want to be known, seen, heard and felt
A reason for a smile, a cause for celebration
With an ability to shout from the mountains our love without pause.
 
For now I sit, as miserable as you
With nothing left to see or do but watch the fire rage
Our souls cannot cry out to us any louder
Even as the song they sing creates tears in our eyes
And a hole in that part where our story once lived.
 
For now we suffer, alone in tempered misery
Because we want to, we have asked for such a space
A testament to our own stubborn insecurity
Our own wants, our own desire, our own fears
And our unwillingness to cater to each other.
 
We are one, in our love and in our misery
We are one.
 
 

An Old Man’s Poem (made me cry)

Got this from Facebook, and it moved me to tears.  Perhaps because I am not getting any younger, and I can see my life thus far following this man’s description.  I wish he was around so that I could give him a hug and let him know he is loved, but alas he has passed.  Maybe another lesson here is to share that Love with others while they are around to accept it?  To steal a line from one of my favorite Pearl Jam lyrics (to Love Boat Captain):

“And the young, they can lose hope cause they can’t see beyond today,…
The wisdom that the old can’t give away”

Man, if we’d only listen from time to time! Anyway, I hope this has an effect on you as well.

“When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, They found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet.” ~Scott Sonnon (Facebook)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . … . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .’I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . … lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don’t mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. …Babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future … . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. …. . ME!!
 

Pass the tissues and learn the lesson Tom!

 

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