Month: August 2015

What is Love?

Why does the soul search the endless nights for

          invisible clues that create a puzzle that can only

be seen by the beholder? Is it love? Does love drive

             us to create an illusion of perfection in our world

of fantasy? Is love the reason I want to crawl inside

of his mind and flick through his black and white

memories, scrutinyzing each picture in detail and

creating my own images in the dark shadows that

his sight never touched? Is that love? Is that

the reunion of two abandoned souls lost in time?

Is love the; seconds, minutes, hours, days and years spent

staying away, staying hidden so as to not reignite flames

that refuse to go out, flames that have no place to burn,

is that love?  Is love the fight you refuse to walk away from,

the constant humiliation of a returning moment of recognition,

I am here, always I am here, lest you may forget, I am here.

Is that love?

Is love the deep desire to devour another’s body?

To lay naked beneath the stars next to them?

To abandon all fears, to explore new heights

to reach to stars you never knew even existed. Is this

not love? Is it not love when the peace you feel comes

from deep inside, from knowing them, having touched them?

Is love not, letting them go, letting them walk another path

one that was never destined for you?

Is that not love too?

The Devil and His Flute

The sun may warm my soul

for a few minutes each day,

then darkness always

follows wanting out to play.

The moon may cleanse

my broken aura,

as the devil follows calmly

dragging his Pandora and

the stars will map out my route

yet still I dance to the sound of his flute.

Fallen Star.

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A light went out that fallen day,

upon my knees I prayed and prayed.

For death or life I do not know

but I got my wish, there was no show.

No crimson red upon my bed,

no tearing pain upon me reigned.

Emptiness in a crowded room

‘You’ll forget it so very soon.’

A void of words that lack meaning

as I stare up at that watched ceiling. 

Haunted stares and whispered tears

no one forgets these horrid fears.

In every face on every breeze

still it brings me to my knees.

I forget you not, I forget you so,

devour the pain and begin to grow.

Let out the storm that rages inside

free it from that broken mind.

Tears fell on that washed out white,

for the life that wasn’t

the life that might.

Long Gone.

Long gone are the days that turn into

the nights that turn in to the dawns.

With a tipple of choice and drunken slurred voice,

the air becomes chilled and slightly moist.

Long gone are the nights that I went with out rest;

the meat market trend of who looks the best,

those were the nights that I truly detest.

Long gone are the heels and the pretty short skirts,

and the constant worry of flirt or not flirt

as ogling men peered down my shirt.

Long gone are those days,

when i’d stay out late to play

closing my eyes where ever I lay.

Long gone are the days when I ran in that race,

people were lost without a trace

as they tried in vain to keep up the pace.

Long gone are the nights when my life was so lost,

when I risked everything each night not knowing the cost.

Long gone are those nights,

for I saw the light,

and it gave me a sight,

a reason to fight.

Long gone are those nights,

long gone is the fright.

A risk for he that did once exist.

In the back waters of reality I know it don’t exist

illusions whisper in the night, that it is a worthy risk.

So many dreams to spoil in a day

just with the words I so need to say.

I stop and I think and I turn away

and wonder who is it, that I truly betray.

In the back waters of reality I tell myself this,

you are an image that no longer exists.

The pretence of the truth of a forgotten kiss,

is that really worthy of the risk?

A moment in time.

It was not your honesty that flamed her heart,

nor your belief or even the love you had for her.

It was your deceit that opened

her eyes, it was your disbelief that gave fuel

to her soul and gave her the wings to fly. The emptiness

created by you gave her a void to fill,

the pain left by you, gave her wounds to stop

and be healed. If it were not for your deceit,

she would never have found herself. As for your love,

that was the only proof she needed, that fairy tales

can exist, even if only for a moment in time.

Fairy Tale Queens.

Fairy tale queens and petals of pink,

vivid illusions that create the brink.

A mind filled, with white clouded fluff

delusions of monsters and all that stuff.

The sun creeps the skies over the moon

and the day rests again all too soon.

Dreams of a life on the page of a book

hiding eagerly beneath a reading nook.

Stories of old from the lips of a chief

of a love that was taken by a barbarous thief.

There was blood filled screeches and violence galore

the audience begged to please tell them more.

Fairy tale dreams and petals of pink,

the creation of an unbreakable link.

The lost souls of the land

reaching out their hands,

in the fairy tale dreams

with their fairy tale, Queens.