“for not a page turns
without your words
nor does not one breath pass
without your air
and is this caravan
a burden born
wanders
wanders ever
to find that good oasis
but once more”
notes… to her. I can not say I am beholden, it is my own doing, my own undoing, knowing a thing does not solve a thing. sometimes my only respite is simple lines, as these, a temporary reprieve at that…
So, bear with me, I took the pause this morning (a brief respite to try and take things in before diving into my ‘meaningful’ daily life), and admittedly this morning was a much better view than last, an exceptional one perhaps, the frost was rightly appointed on the lawn begging for attention in the twenty seven degree nation, I just do not have some snappy metaphor on my tongue for the description this morning, the sun was as bright as can be in the winter, just barely peaking out over the crest of the house roof, right in my eyes but not blinding, the dog decides to do a barrel roll in the grass, something she does, always has, I never understood it, but she enjoys it, at least that is my perception, perception is reality, no, reality is reality, I call her inside and get in the car, the ice has formed some perfect snowflake structures on my windshield, not enough to obstruct my view and require scraping, just that nice frosting on the bottom half, the sky is real blue, that nearly singular screaming blue you tell yourself is a ‘perfect sky’, the type of blue you would book online if you could, but somehow, something is missing, at least today, I feel I am in that zone where all cliches seem to be failure, or at least pale platitudes, ignorance is bliss, no, it is just being unaware so you slip into bliss as the other options are not options available at the time, better to have loved and lost than never loved at all, so they say, file this in the bliss/ignorance category,I can feel it pulling, my emotional compass strongly points to her, just one of those things, regardless of the beauty of the day, am I forcing my mood or is this just a natural state, I choose to indulge my staircase downward, tune the tunes to tunes that make me reminisce, you can’t hug a photograph, you can’t caress a dream, but in my mind I wind up doing all these things, I just keep reliving that moment, a kiss to the forehead as I said that goodbye, frozen in time still, a singular moment I can not seem to escape but for forgetting for bits of times, I know I should not dwell there, but I do, I try to think of a see saw, the one side seems heavier down with regret, but to that end would have never led without the love and experience with her itself, every path has an end, we have to traverse the path, this is no linear equation though, there is always a slope downward, time is not a staircase upwards, always onward downward, just the way it works, I suppose my mood is not lifted by the industrial ugliness lining the jersey turnpike as I drive, all crowned by that ultra blue sky, cement dominant boundaries, oil containers, factories, foul smoke rising, that burning flame, drowning in the sameness, lost in thought, locked in a jail of my own thought in this tin box plodding the road along, the rational whispering to remember to savor being alive at all, true, but truth does not always tuck you in to calm, even if you know it should…
“dream”
in decay
I can feel your breath
on the back my hand
as I caress your cheek
your stark black hair framed
in soft white light you exist
my angel
everything I need to know
you tell my with your eyes
everything I ever needed
my love
in bed, on my side
just staring into your eyes
this is all I ever wanted
this moment is all I ever had
for a dream once real
this feels of then
don’t let me wake
let this be my death
*part of an ongoing series, my heart beat as it were, if you like this then please check out the rest (scroll down a hair)… thanks for all looks, likes, comments, all that. oh, and yeah, line 9 is not a typo, it is there because I let words out for the reader to fill in… “my …” when you are expecting “me” there, just sayin…
“for I am“
in the dawn of my dying days
awaiting my birth to be reborn
for I am
truly and forever yours
sustenance brought unto your shores
may heavenly vision shun your eyes
so I may pass
and grant refuge, for you
sacrifice to the bearer
so you may go, along that river
for I am
truly and forever yours
for divine light shall strip my flesh bare
strip by strip and cook my bones
so I might spare you
a moment of death
I will gladly suffer the tolerance the toll
no burden shall fail to fall
for I am
truly and forever yours
dare I face the gauntlet of god
inside the crucible of a dying star
collapsing pressure beyond all
humanity before and gone
all so you may walk upon
a golden gossamer waking dawn
may all your suffering be laid upon my door
for, I am, my love, yours
truly and forever more
notes… part of my lost love letters collection where I contemplate her, the one, my only true ex whom I will hold some love at some level forever, the LLL works are compiled on my collections and series page (scroll down a touch), so if you like this one check out the others, I try to keep everything current, however this is a hobby, an outlet, a needed one, I admit, but sometimes life butts in, you know, how it has a tendency to do…
music…. (something about the guitar sound just sounds like pain to me, the vocals for “what’s inside says” just rules, it begins to rock and then subdues)
Prolog: the photo above is literally the view behind the hotel here in the Poconos, I needed to unplug for a few days so here I am, at night they light up the falls with flood lights and all around the outside decks are torches, there is an outdoor bar/restaurant sort of under the hotel observation decks, so this is where I was when I penned this tonight.
sitting here, somewhere in between, civilization and nature, a crossroads of seams, where worlds meet, unsure of my allegiances, for I feel I have drifted far, the constant motion and shower of waterfalls, lit up this night by artificial lights, pieces of conversations are more like a hum, nothing distinct, not as succinct or as calming as the waters constant falling, sitting here, alone, in the middle of everyone, other’s lives, unaware of each other’s stories, strife, or triumphs, or nothings, a gentleman is serenading the outside bar with acoustic renditions, gathering polite applause between songs, his voice seems more in harmony with the water than the human din dining and drinking to the sides of him, fueled torches flicker in the slight breeze, dancing to a completely different song unto themselves but in tune with the water, somehow, I consider this scene for a second, like a painting, a framework snapshot of heaven if for a moment touched the earth, but for me, there is quite the angel missing, by my own hand, my own doing, I am never sure if that fact makes the wound that much worse or open longer my forever, somehow this perfect scene, the serene, the seeming peace accord between the pulverizing mass of humanity and the glorious natural wonder of the world, I can not enjoy this the same, without you, without you to share this with, all the goodness and hope saps my strength, as my thoughts turn to you, only you, sometimes a shadow is impossible to shake, so I withdraw, to my room.
Post: check out my Youtube channel as I am uploading some cool videos of my travels this week… mostly waterfalls and such, I’m a sucker for nature you know…
And thanks for all the looks, likes and random off color comments !
“if for one more time
might I hear the songbirds song
outright up upon summer’s dawn
and feel the warmth of that good sun
one last time before I am utterly gone
from this place back to the ground
to be remade yet might I hear that sound
one more time
one dear final time
to hear that bird and her song”
notes… a little more subtle this week, same theme though, lost.love.letters is now archived on my collections page (if it is something you dig).
music to contemplate life by…. Stellardrone – On a Beam of Light
enamored
if my words were silk sheets
wrapped around your naked skin
sultry eyes, captivation
luring time as clock hands spin
step outside
my own dimension
desire two makes one
by my own extension
hairs on end
at attention
notes… a slightly different tact this week kind of like last week but not, remembering the absence of presence, waking up every day next to her, seems like someone else’s dream these days and certainly not reality or my own memory anymore…
a slightly different tact this week, lost love? to be sure, but perhaps a bright light to disarm the night, to lead forth into the day… perhaps, such is the gift of remembrance at times…
“butterfly“
I saw a butterfly a wandering
circles in flowing long loops
in patterns somehow familiar
so long has this been
for I recognize in this, her
this many years
was this my life in that other lifetime
like a dream embedded in my memory
your dropped note
and all that was is now at my front door
my first love
before I knew what love was
all wrapped in new circumstance
the warm naivete of innocence
ah, I feel it now
sweet jo where have you been
that different life tangent
what could have been
and still this feels the same
I remember well our time
even if your name has faded
from my every day and days indeed
your note brought this all back
holding your hand
your gentle touch
the electricity conducted through
oh my first love
how have you been?
so many possibilities
on life’s divergent path
has crossed ours once more
if only for a chat
notes… my first real love sent me a note recently, it was quite unexpected and out of the blue, amazing to have something still stirring there inside after all these years, buried somewhere deep in the years of me but not gone, I was just a kid but I remember distinctly so much, she fell asleep in my lap as we watched TV at her mother’s house, I felt she trusted me fully at that point and it was just a life affirming moment, little things, it is always the little things that are the binding… and the things we miss…
“I have lost her“
I am the saint to my sins
the almighty absolver
unable to bend the knee
and forgive
for penance does not placate the past
nor clear the tomes, so written
let the sky fall
let the stars drop
down up from the heaven
break onto the ground
for, I have lost her
let my blood dry in a dead river bed
let my last breath escape
prepare my soul for departure
for, I have lost her
with such clarity
after all this wandering
a clutched mirage
might I lay down and rest now
let my mind release
for, I have lost her
note…. my weekly nod to the romantic side, a side that has been waning but is always hopeful
music… King’s X – Goldilox (a lost 80s rock ballad but some get it… have you ever seen an audience sing the whole song? and this is what it is like at a KX concert over the years)
went unsaid
but mere words I thought
my deeds the weight of motion
so I thought
now the deepest wound
the unhealed hole
is roughly hewn by hands known
went unsaid
and never will
a numbness until my death
carried lumber unto my bed
pulled by mules on carts
wheels churned in sand
the further I go
the closer I come
all that is past
can not be undone
regardless of prayer
or passing seasons
some joyous more than some
but still
left inside –
went unsaid
notes… my weekly delve into the depths of my heart and the loss thereof, how I squandered love, true love, I am not saying there is nothing beyond, but experience tells me it will never be as easy as it was with her, it just ‘fit’, hard to explain it just was, which drives my logic side insane but adds infinite fuel to my romantic side… in other words it drives me nuts…
Shades of My Garden 