Tag Archives: face

My Face in the Window

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Do not look at me through your open window.
Do not gaze upon my flesh.
How many lions, before you, wish to eat me?
Surely do you jest?
Occupy the chair you coward,
Show to me your true face.
But I only need a mirror
A self portrait in its place.
An empty chair,
And on the stairs,
The man who wasn’t there.
You weren’t there again today,
Maybe someday
That will change.
Perhaps someday you’ll go away.

Mask

This face on the ground
With debris all around,
If it had a mouth
What would it say?
If eyes, what would it see today?
The stealer of identity
A silencer of secrecy.
It becomes anyone and anything,
As swiftly as the past takes wing,
It can be everyone and no one.
And nothing and all blood.
There behind its simple facade,
It laughs, and pretends to be God.

On Being Apart

Good morning my love today
When I awoke and saw not your face
There was emptiness. The morning light did say
“You shall not be here, long, without, in this place.”
But I could hardly believe the light that spoke
For every moment away from you deprives
My soul.
Though my time away, my soul bespoke,
It was not prepared, yet shall survive.
How many dawns apart are we?
How many?
Not soon enough, we’ll see.

The Colors Out of Shadow

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Colors out of shadow reminded him of her face,
Which time in its indifferent boredom has tried to erase.
Her eyes stared at him, or did they look away?
There is no penance for this regret that I would be able to pay.
She left behind shadows and took with her his heart.
That was the last thing with which he would depart.
And just like that, there he stood with nothing left to lose.
His foolish pride and selfishness were the cause he did conclude.
Now every night before sleeping, the shadows meet his gaze.
There he hopes to see the colors that remind him of her face.

Fades Like the Rest

The wandering of soul
When found in want of a home.
Who knows what this one did
To find the face so dimly hid.
Out of the shadows we soon won’t see,
Where the soul has ought to be.
And one more passing by a moment
What was here, the soul has shown it.
Its actions louder than words could express,
It falls into darkness, and fades like the rest.

Cold End

The coming dawn, I know it to be cold.
From a distance: voices, faces, in mist,
Are illusions lurking, or so I’m told.
In their discourse, they wildly insist
That if they fervently wish to be real,
It is so. Without permission they lease,
Manafest strange feelings for me to feel,
These things that cause my worries to increase.
A cold path waits for me after waking.
The morning sun abhors my taking warmth,
And I find no heat from it worth taking.
They, in the mist, wish for me to go forth.
Nothing before me but my bitter end:
A garden of sorrow, which I must tend.

Seasons

Wind from another time and place.
Blowing in, revealing a different face.
One face to another that face did say:
Among the autumn leaves, come to play.
A sunset in fall before the winter snow.
One last embrace before the fading of hearts glow.
Far beyond springtime and those carefree days past,
Even summer had mourned and into shadows cast,
Any semblance, any thought that bore
Resemblance to a memory that one could not ignore.
Now here in autumn, waiting for the snow,
Praying winter, its face, it won’t forget to show.