Lonely Hands

Come, love, see my hands,
See how lonely they look
Without yours intertwined.

I tried filling the gaps with
Flowers, baubles and things,
But they couldn’t survive the
Snowstorms of my mind.

The Funniest Joke

I’ve got the world on my shoulders
But your eyes are my two moons holding me steady.
My poor mortal soul couldn’t hold all of my love for you
So, I threw it out to the skies.

This way, if you ever doubt the words I say
You can look to the stars, which not only burn for you,
But burn because of you.
And I know sometimes I may feel like I’m light years away

Or seem preoccupied with the inner workings of secret galaxies
Just remember my love for you is always shining,
Shining so brightly you may never be able to imagine.
And even when daylight hides the night sky for hours

Or a wayward cloud obscures my testimonial for you,
Just know that in some part of the world,
However insignificant that part may seem,
My love is a muse for many.

Someday when I’m old, when my shoulders are quivering
From the long seized weight of the world,
I’ll be known as the man who loved so greatly
He had to create something otherworldly to contain it.

And one day, thousands of years from that someday,
I’ll run across a young man whose back is straight and unhindered.
He’ll look at me and he’ll say, “Hey man, aren’t you the guy
who crowded outer space with millions of burning balls of gas?”

And I may laugh—albeit, a bit hysterically—because, of course
This world where a fiction written of a one-time lovers’ suicide
Can live forever in the hearts of many but a story as true
and as complete as ours would be reduced to balls of gas.

I’ll tell him, in all seriousness,
“No man, it was burning balls of love.”
And he’ll walk away chuckling as if I had told him the funniest joke.
But one day, he might look into some girl’s eyes to find two moons.

And, if he's lucky, maybe he’ll feel a thousandth of what I feel for you.

It's interesting what comes to you in the dead of night.

Heart of stone
Soul of sand
Sinking to my stomach
Slipping through your hand

Times of the Sun

The clock’s delicate melody
Seems to be at odds with the
Heavy hammering of my heart
How can something so mechanical
Aim to control our lives so entirely?
But I suppose it is us who give it power.
It is our pure mortal aim for control
For restrictions, for organization,
That gives it purpose.
If I had the choice
If my life wasn’t in it’s death grip already
I would toss that ticking damnation
Out of the window. Good riddance.
And plunge myself into the world
When life’s only timer was the
Rising and setting of the Great Sun.

Survivor (acrostic)

Surprising strength in one so small, you were
Unwilling to give up on life
Refusing to succumb to another’s will
Vying for one more chance to live and
I will always remember the
Vibrancy of your smile even to that last moment.
Oh, my love, I will never forget what you told me that final day,
Remember to live and love, and you will truly survive.

Dying Candle image by Harshad Sharma on Flickr

Vacation (acrostic)

Vacant playgrounds with nothing but
April showers and weeping flowers
Carry a sense of suspense.
And in May when it rains diamonds
The earth knows what every child knows.
It’s the subliminal message felt in the very marrow
Of your bones, and albeit temporary, this sense of freedom
Never tasted so sweet.

photo titled "Summer Skin" by red_head_shan on Flickr

Fadeaway

Fading away into the night
An unknown emotion pulses
Dark and beautiful in your soul
Even though you hide it I know you’re just
Another lonely star in search of the one
Worth shining for, and
Although you were meant for someone else
You will never fade from my heart


Sky image by *Peace-of-Art

A Vision

A vision in the final cadences of moonlight
You stand there, eyes closed to the world around you
Ears unhearing of the words dancing through the air
Mouth locked shut for fear of the imprisoned scream's release
Scars left bare adorn treacherously beautiful skin

A vision in the caress of amorous sunlight
Your eyes open slowly ready to meet the world around you
Ears tentatively willing to listen to the laughter as well as cries
Mouth unlocked to sing a song of sorrow reincarnated as love
And from these scars, new wings shall grow

picture: rhogrock on Photobucket

Beauty

For a moment I believed in myself
I believed that I was beautiful
And, for some unknown reason,
The world believed it too.
Then I woke up.

When beauty is but a dream the nightmare is in waking up.

Silence Is the Loudest Scream

There is a strange magic
To the words you whisper in the dark.
And your contented sighs in the dead of night
Are becoming the lullaby I can’t get to sleep without.
But now, your side of the bed is growing cold
And the silence is absolutely deafening.

This picture is from .Stellar. of Flickr