2003: My Life In Poetry Form - Throwback Thursday

 

This is a weekly recurring series featuring five poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and mind were like at a certain age and show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. We return to 2003. I was 25 years old. This was a time featuring a lot of soul-searching and trying to figure out what my path in life was supposed to be.

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End Of The Long Day

When was the last time life was this good?

When did everything happen as you wished it would?

The sun has always set and the sun will always rise, now look again at the sun through opened eyes. Things once moving slow are right on time. Thoughts and feelings make sense even without rhyme. Every hand has a hand, every head has a shoulder to lean on. Every wish seems possible, all hopes and desires so dream on.

When was the last time it all fell into place?

All those blank and blurry road maps in focus, 

no more secrets that can hurt us.

We’re all still turning, time keeps us moving, there’s always a reason to find understanding. Calm is common, relax without losing sight, everyone is safe tonight. The fresh air breezes in a whisper, raindrops kissing on our cheeks.

Peaceful sleep is calling, the long days work is ending, all colors and sands of the landscape behind your eyes.

When was the last time life was this beautiful?

Only a gentle smile and kind word for brother and sister. These days are for living, loving, giving back what you feel. 

It’s all here now, wake up into the dream.

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Keep Rolling

A glandular condition, can’t figure out what you’re missing.

An overactive imagination, can’t turn up the volume on this radio station.

Like a rolling cowboy in the wild west, keeps rolling on and rolling over til he’s cleared out all the rest.

Don’t stand on the highway if you can run through the parking lot.

Don’t stop rolling til you’ve rolled right over anything standing in your way.

Don’t try to walk on water when you can live knee deep in the stream.

Don’t you mind the mindless. Don’t try to convert the faithless. Don’t stop rolling on until it’s left you breathless.

A positionary mission, can’t find rebellion underneath tradition.

Broken dreams, broken backs, off the beaten path, 

derailed off the tracks.

Inspiration, perspiration, the price of a hundred incarnations.

Mark the ground but make no sound, 

there is an escape to be found.

Schizophrenic love, bi-polar heart, the pills in my happiness cocktail, whatever it takes I will keep on rolling.

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The Lady Sits In Silence

The lady sits in silence. Sounds of her laughter are just memories. Unable to be who she used to be. The lady sits in silence forevermore. There once was a time, in the past where it lies, when this lady did sparkle like sun diamonds on the water. Her sea is gray and cold, did not want to hear what she was told, a smile only in my mind forever more. It saddens me thinking of how it used to be not long ago, when bliss was ignorance and my wishes tucked softly under my skin. Where did the carefree soul end and the shackled spirit begin? I see a beautiful face now cut angry in stone. Eyes of blue sky see nothing but ground. What happens to that smile when I am around? No words to be spoken, a promise of pain unbroken, to my ears the lady is silent forevermore. I would take back my love for this curse to be lifted. I would stand swimming in these emotions, let my face to her become untwisted. The lady sits in silence, though many swear she speaks. My love for her is reviled, the sickness of hatred leaves me lonely and weak. I pray for a word. I pray for an end. The lady is soft and broken waiting for her heart to mend. There are those around wondering why. Was it me who made her cry? Did my love break her? A beautiful place I can never take her. Where is the justice in the emotion’s simplicity? I beg for her to raise her head, see there is no demon inside of me. Yet days and weeks pass breathlessly, for those who look at but do not see. The lady sits in silence and it is her silence that is killing me.

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Wringing Out The Darkness

I can’t write anymore, all of my stories have been told.

I won’t fight anymore, I’m walking away before I get too old.

I can’t cry anymore, those tears don’t inspire like they used to.

I won’t lie anymore, I’m going to be who I am and now I’m breaking through.

Some memories fade, others won’t let me walk away, but this time I’m going to make it through the storm. Some worries may come and go, some may come and stay, I won’t let them sink my ship come what may. Coming back from the brink of all the old faults seems so passé, living my life while alive is the best way to survive.

I can’t pretend anymore, my face will have to be the one worn on and worn out.

I won’t defend anymore, I let this go on too long before learning what it was about. I can’t comprehend anymore, how I made it this far with half a heart and a soul in chains. I won’t regret anymore, 

a new life starts when each sunrise calls my name.

All of the running, all of the hiding, all my time eyes closed to the world ends with my surviving. In the end it only matters where you are. It says so much and tells me so little. The only world you know is the world you go and see. Piecing myself back together as the darkness runs out of me like unholy water. Living my life while alive in the world is where I’m going to be.

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2003: My Life In Poetry Form - Throwback Thursday

 

This is a weekly recurring series featuring five poems all written within the same calendar year. They capture a sense of what my life and mind were like at a certain age and show the evolution of my life, mind, and writing style. This is 2003. I was 25 years old. This was a time featuring a lot of soul-searching and trying to figure out what my path in life was supposed to be.

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Ghosts

There’s a ghost living inside of me. Close now to five years, it’s been haunting me. Need someone to cleanse my soul. Heartbeats counting down one by one. Need an exorcist to set me free. I used to love but forgot in time, where love stopped and hate began, where was that line. Where is the way back to that line, to get back into myself. I am the purgatory, heartbeats counting down to none. If I cry at night it’s the ghost stretching my love toward the light. There are ghosts of my mother, ghosts of my past. There’s a ghost of my father, and many love’s that didn’t last. I see ghosts of dark times, ghosts all in white. Ghosts that look like my brother, ghosts of one that could be another.

Now is not the time to run away. Not the time to hide.

Now is the time to take my hand. It’s the time to come inside.

Need someone to bring it into me. Heartbeats counting down one by one. Need an exorcist to pull this cancer out of me. In the face of love the ghost of all gone wrong I see. I used to know where real life and dreams separated, in between heartbeats I’m still searching. There’s a ghost living inside of me. With every breath I take it’s haunting me. Won’t let go until I’m withered and gone. Need someone to make it go away.

Now is not the time to run away. I’ll face the light of this new day.

Take my hand from over my eyes. I need you by my side.

Heartbeats counting two by two. To face the ghosts all I need is you.

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Love Is

Love is first sight, shimmering light found in smiling eyes. A dozen roses, warm fires and red wine, the door to vulnerability opened when all is fine. Finding meaning in the meaningless, necessity in the unnecessary. It’s the melting touch that you need so much, the blinding beauty even if only you see it’s there. It’s having the courage to do it, the courage to live for them, to show that you care.

Love is Christmas in July, the swimming butterflies round your heart, the music of their voice that makes the hardest stone cry. Walking in the park, setting free the fears and giving your all, birthdays, holidays, every days. Break down the walls or allow them to be broken. Emotion and passion, the burning bond in words unspoken. Sparks become flames and there’s no desire to extinguish, the bed in which we sleep, where the talk always sounds so sweet.

Love is the feeling I get when we’re together, it grows when we’re apart, it grows right now. Simple pleasures become deep oceans of emotions, see myself in you, see myself with no one but you. It’s the security in every day I live, love is as good to receive as it is to give. It’s everywhere, in what we see and share. Open hearts, open pages, open eyes, open veils, it’s the melting touch that you need so much. The blinding beauty even if only you see it’s there. It’s having the courage to do it, the courage to live for them, to always be there, the courage to love someone.

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Streetlight Symphony

Peace of mind is hard to find. Wind-blown kisses from the summer side. A red streetlight ahead, saying goodbye to all there is left. Fantasy and reality, thoughts and dreams, asking why is not an option. A green streetlight signals the next step of life is here. Though the sun may never set on us, the years of twilight will be an unkind reminder. A yellow streetlight says hold on to the emotion, the future could go either way.

When you go don’t say goodbye. I don’t want to know it’s over.

When you go I’ll close my eyes. I’ll fool myself a little longer.

When you go don’t say goodbye. You’ll share my dreams and own my thoughts.

When you go I will survive. It may have been reality but you were my fantasy.

Peace of mind is hard to find. All my answers are lost on the other side. Green to red or red to green, the only love I know is the love that I have been in. There may be nothing left for you here, and you’ll take my beauty and inspiration with you. But if ever in time you should need me to, I’ll drop what I call my life and come find you.

When you go don’t say goodbye. I’ll face reality another day.

When you go I’ll close my eyes.

The breeze on my face will be a fantasy that you’ve stayed.

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What He Waits For

My heart is a lost soldier. 

Still fighting battles long after the war is over.

Trying to find a way back to shore, 

waiting for his ship to rescue him.

My heart is a song without words, 

waiting to hear the voice that completes him.

My heart is pounding loudly through the night keeping me awake.

My heart is a prisoner, 

looking through the bars at life going on outside.

Meditates, levitates, and gravitates toward the light to pass the time.

Stranded and strained, the wind blows my heart away.

I can feel it when she’s around me, 

the restless rumbling won’t let me be.

My heart is a lost cause, 

slipping back into the wound of love unkind.

Wanting what he cannot have, searching, 

never finding, still all alone.

My heart is blue, feelings and colors, 

everything in shades and hues.

Waiting for what will not arrive, 

it will never make sense to anyone else.

My heart is swimming in a pool of endless memories, 

a constant wave of emotion.

Wanting nothing but to be free, wanting only to be hers,

she is the searchlight in my dark sky.

Wanting nothing to be shined on, lying peacefully in the soft grass while sweet love comes pouring down.

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