Tag Archives: poetry

Life’s Spiral

The

Day

And night

Bring chaos,

Entropy. Beauty

Is revealed to me, decay is

Not what it seems to be, giving life much more to see.

Perfection plain to me, one point six one eight zero three, spiral of new beginning.

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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.

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.

A Light Embracing Ruin

A breath of entropy,
A bright glow,
A light embracing ruin.
Staring into flames I see,
Not much more than smoke.
I find a space that truth’s in.
In darkness, home.
The world’s alone.
Each orange one hugs the fallen.
The fire has me,
Enraptured to see.
A light embracing ruin.

No Gold 

I climb above clouds
Still can see no greater thing
Than what was below

Unnecessary
To ascend to heights. Almost
Was hidden gold missed

I go below clouds
There is no gold in the sky
I’ll love what I have.

Bone Garden

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A garden of bones,
Planted in stone.
Living are the seeds sown,
Decay: germination’s home.
Bones become as the flower blooms,
And blooming into a flower unseen,
Mice are this flowers bees.
This garden of bones is no tomb.

Shadows Follow

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We are followed everyday by shadow,
By the long shadows of our future selves.
Time has no meaning in an endless flow,
Where shadows patiently wait for our tales,
When they will be told in a different light.
How is it we’re constantly in sunset?
In sunset about to pass into night.
Darkness,when we return to sleep so blessed.
All our cold shadows sit and wait and see,
When we arise, where we might float and go.
When life-blood loosens its grip and we’re free.
There’s a secret to the sunset I know:
“One wakes only in the twilight of day.”
Our shadows to us, have oft’ tried to say.