The sun is too bright for these tired eyes,
This mind too tired for the whys.
An explanation is another day in the sun,
With all this stargazing I long to be done.
Chasing clouds profits nothing but broken dreams.
There’s no shade in a desert stretching as far as the eye can see.
Venturing across hot sands to find more stable bedrock,
To find a place where the mirage is not.
Posted in Moving Forward
Tagged bedrock, bright, desert, dream, eye, mind, poem, poetry, profit, sand, stargaze, sun, tired, venture, why
More 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,
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.
Posted in Life (or something like it)
Tagged awake, conductor, darkness, despair, eyes, grown, love, poetry, sitting, sleeping, tired, waiting
Tired from the day, she’s still and cold.
Tired from the blood she’s carried.
Long life past, now she’s old.
Now far from demons she’s long buried.
No regrets, her own grown strong,
They’ll find a new grave to carry
Her to where she can rest from demons wake,
From the words of death she spake,
From what she carried for so long,
So her own to demons pacts
Would not be sold.
Or so I’m told.
She takes this secret to her grave.
The children know of what she gave,
But not of sacrifices made.
Posted in Life and death
Tagged blood, buried, chidren, demon, grave, life, lion, lioness, poetry, rest, sacrifice, sleep, tired, wake
A forgotten day found
At its end.
A silent and empty sound,
In my head.
This something followed me home.
What it was, lost in the loam,
Beneath the earth now buried,
I miss how I was carried
With winter at its end,
And springs birth,
There is a maddness to which I tend,
Not of this earth.
My follower I’ve discovered,
By the light its been governed
This tired soul waits.
Now my sleep baits
This is how my fatigue collects debt.
One payment will be missed I fret.
She’s twice as tired.
This is twice as long,
Through the fire,
She’s twice as strong.
One more try
And though she fail,
She’ll try to stand.
Back to the trail.
And lessons learned.
One more bridge
Needing to be burned.
Twice, no three times
More she’s tired.
She can endure.
Having been through so much fire.
Cradled in the night: sleeping earth.
The stars, solitary eyes, observing the birth.
One too many times; everyday she
Tries to hold this sleep and be,
Her soul, old,
Wearily gives birth to season after season,
Knowing they’ll soon be ancient, a reason,
An excuse to hate the life-giving spring.
The snow, her blanket. The Sun and Moon now sing.
This: before birth her last sleep.
The joy she’ll feel in summer,
Will rend all her fear asunder.
But every year it’s the snow that she prays to keep.
Posted in Nature
Tagged birth, death, life, Moon, poetry, sleep, Spring, summer, sun, tired, winter
Without carrying a weight,
Breath comes easy,
But do you see
How I’ve become so tired?
My heart beats slowly,
It’s my weary mind come lowly,
That has made me feel so tired.
My thoughts all but expired,
This enervation that I’ve sired.
My momentum has decayed,
I’ve beared this burden for days,
And this has made me tired.
For renewal I seek sleep.
That repose I will keep,
Until I awake to find,
That I’m still very tired.