Tag Archives: love

To Sleep Alone

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I cannot sleep alone,
Here on the floor and dreaming.
With no one here beside me warm,
With no one here now breathing.
I cannot hear the breath you take.
“Come back!” The void hears, screaming.
And with a final sigh defeated
I resign. My heart stops beating.
Cursed to go on living in unrequited love,
Here I’ll stay.
No one will hear me breathing.

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So Tired of Sitting

javier-canales-160671.jpgMore and more he wanted to show,
How he hated the way I’ve grown
And lack of compassion shown,
But this dim light.
Here swallowing fear for so long,
The darkness has dimmed the sight
He once used to view hope.
And in it’s absence, he cried.

She wanted to love me more,
She said she could not before
I shed my despair. She says: “Just try!”
But I see no love in those eyes,
She lies.

Stay down. The conductor waits,
To preform another movement.
I’ll try to guess what that is.
So tired of sitting.
So tired of sleeping awake.

Dancing Into Dying

Shattered dreams in streams of light
Falling from dying stars in their delight.
One end of the universe fades away forever
And at its center, false hope while drifting into the never.
The nevermore befooled by those
Who into the cosmos would suppose,
Beyond an illusory dreaming and repose,
That one can find self in this shattered light?
Shattered sight and blinding fright
Are chosen not for favor bought
Falsly from an unforgiving reaper
Who take those sooner who wish for fewer for others and name the nameless night.
Abyss unto abyss and beneath this on your cheek a kiss,
For I’ll knowingly befoul the nihilism in my soul
For one hour of giving you my whole
Heart. Then while the universe around us dances into dying,
Hold me close and you I’ll hold closer flying,
Into that endless night.
Then there’s no reason that we fail to be
When eternity shall stand witness before us while we forever see.

An Overexposure to Flesh

An overexposure to flesh,
A sensation not unlike the rest.
Once caught up in the scheme of things,
The world is seen for what it seems.
And just like that and then it’s over,
We’ll get no help from this four-leafed-clover
To love and be loved before we’re dead
Is the purpose that’s placed on our heads.
This is our only concern and not to live longer.
To love all who we can while our hearts become stronger.
This toxic covering, us, into mortals make,
Turning what little time there is into a more precious take.

The Gap

I wait.
Until no longer must I gaze outward towards hallucinations of you.
Too often I pine and you’re not here.
Me away from you.
I hate the gap, I hate the distance.
And hate I must until I can see your face again.
Your love only fills the void.
Touch me.
Let me know you’re with me like words cannot.
I love you.
Until the earth embraces both our bodies and we eternal rest.
To my wife M. D. S. 

Nihilistic Optimism

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Life is pain and then you die.
Why should I bother to even try?
Days pass by quickly,uncaring.
They do not ask how I am fairing.
It makes no difference, this or that.
It won”t take much to see where I’m at,
In the ocean cold.
Slowly sinking, grasping soul.
Treading water just prolongs,
My end, the bottom, where I belong.

But life is joy before you die!
And joy and love! Still we cry.
Something so fickle and sweet as life
Becomes fermented and stale with time.
One should not wish it to be forever
That it should continue, ending never.
We all end up at the bottom it’s true
Before then I’ll be with you,
Spending the happy hours,
Loving, laughing, avoiding sour
Looks and words that would stain
Our souls if from within they came.

Let the day pass by so quickly!
I’ll not be one who, sickly,
Sits and waits and wastes the time,
What little we have, like a slime,
Trapped on the edge of the ocean, not in it,
Not loving life, but afraid of it.
Life is pain and darkness frightening,
The end comes quickly before the ripening.
In this small time, I’ll make the most
Never fearing the inevitable ghost.
No sorrow in death. It is and it must.
Then we live on, after first turning to dust.

A Burial of Youth

The old, too tired to dig the graves
Required by their sons they couldn’t save.
Left behind instead of leaving,
There is a sorrow first conceiving
Anger, and then the bitter taste
Of youths absence, such a waste.
We’re left to linger, this should not be!
This day was meant for younger eyes than me!
In this evening there are no words.
In this moment the past and future confer,
And those who remain will be loved a little more,
We’ll hold them closer than we ever did before.

This was written in dedication to my friend who recently lost her youngest son. I’ve seen too many children buried by their parents in my time and it’s always a tragedy and never easier to deal with.