I’m having this problem where I can’t write because I’m happy. An envious problem to have but it makes all this noise just a bit harder to pull to signifier. Because the well of black feeling erases under the thought of you. And plans for the long term slam into place like bank vaults but it’ll be a minute before they’ll open. No swift thing, no arrow, no soon over thing. Instead a juggernaut just getting started, focused on an us. But still, my words spill out, only into your ears and not for the wide. I’d sing you aloud and scream to the sky. Reminding the deep blue of times gone by when they were dust and stars together and they were being fed up with the dawn. We are bound and bound by choose and choice and the hard truth a hand in hand, facing a future side by side
I feel my stagnation, a hell of creation, founded on my dreams that crumbled away while seeking damnation
I’m a false poet, or do I mean prophet, lost on the way to all that was get,
I founded my life on violence and sex then foundered on the shoals of a love that Pierced me, broke me apart and reworked me, she traveled through space and time and unearthed me
I was buried in the dirt of my own ambitions, trapped by admonitions, saying make money is the way to be happy even if it comes at the expense of your soul, these fleeting lives all have a price and a cost and I have paid for it all in bloody coins
But pulled from the ground I was raw and without skin, so used to trapping my heart in stone that to feel her hands was blood on the blade pressed against lips, and last dribble of false desire fell away and it was this pain, this agony that I needed and yearned for but trapped in the earth there was no way to feel the wind and the rain
She comes a storm and I break beneath her until her name whispers through my heart and I see the truth behind the veil and I know, and I reach that tremulous control and hold her storm in cupped hands, so easy to break her now, but instead I breathe power into her swirling winds and a maelstrom breaks to freedom and waits like outstretched hands to be joined and like that
The storm ends
And I am left broken in mud, covered in blood and bone come pattered back to too still earth, no longer stood astride like giants, just broken and soft and dreaming, dowsing, seeking, looking for a hand to see and know and wake
I miss romantic love as much as I miss that blissful period when I loved only myself.
A brief time after forgiveness of things beyond my control leading up to the swooping vultures of this guy’s interesting to play with.
Or in thinking that my heart is genuinely filled and cutting it open like a pomegranate to drip seeds down hungry throats.
The pain a substitute for reciprocity
Until, woken I ask for clarification
In so doing
Find myself to have been alone
Or instead with pale spectre as companion
Try to shove a heart dripping juice
Never quite full again
Into a chest grown to small
Instead hold in hands
Hoping to find sharing
For inflammation to cool
The swelling goes down
And fits back in chest
Or to lament that fact
Can’t make you want
More than this distance
To be admired
And loved from
So much easier to go quiet
When I no longer see you
And the blade no longer sinks home with each smile aimed away
I have nothing to give but everything that I am. Unfortunately, it never seems to be enough. Is it something I lack or was there something in you that could not be fulfilled. Or am I waiting for you to say, “I’m ready now.” And, fool that I am, I wait while you seek joy in the heart of another. Or I wait until circumstances are better. Or I wait until you realize what you need and it isn’t me. Or I wait while time drifts you away.
Take a step to me. Don’t say but or maybe. Don’t wait, times is passing, regret is for the things that you fail to face not for love. I know. It’s painful to hope. I know. I’ll try not to fail you.
Every step is a step closer to the grave. Because what am I but a pointless gesture meandering through the simple silence of shadows cast.
Are goals so loose they may well be guidelines instead of definition be truly enough to get out of bed for?
Or am I just wasting for want of a leader.
No harness can I wear that is not fashioned by my hand.
I am horrible to lead as I question each choice and deed.
Take flight and burn in turn of phrase.
Always looking for the person who sees me through the smoke.
Obscured by my honest answers to the meat of the question.
Semantics but I like is not the same as love is not the same as desire is not the same as need.
We break and say what was I to say?
Don’t peddle love when other is meant.
I’ll settle counterweight against your love, a fulcrum to move the world.
Should it prove to be the brittle half truth of like, I’ll break in the turning.
See me, I’ll not settle.
I’m not settling when I choose your love.
But I’ll not take less than all that you are either.
What is worth if not worth all?
Selling pieces without regard or regardless.
But I’m as broken as any, perhaps more so, knowing yourself is no remedy.
Ignite, burn and be the pyre.
As I lay here fading, bereft of you.
Waiting on the turn of the wheel or a spoken word.
Should I write of terrible emptiness or speak of a future so uncertain no pathway is clear?
Is the act of writing catharsis or catalyst?
in service to the sacred
or am I a blasphemy,
unworthy of your consideration?
Embrace emotion and be bruised by cold shoulders,
words spoken softly
become daggers when syllables drop dispassionately
distraction from a life fraught with dirt standard ennui
Or passionate pleading prayers
to an uncaring universe
that this time will be different
Burn it all in pleasures and pains
that only leave me emptied
or fill me up with poison
fermented on the vine
Drunk on sharp edges and missed schedules
Easier to say
it’s too hard and walk away
than to embrace misfortune and ill timing
No right time for love,
no perfect step, no lull in life
Just now, now is all we have
Plan a future
but start today
or watch all plans disappear
as flash paper memories
You can’t push me away hard enough
once I’ve decided to stay,
but you can walk away
This desolate desert of ablated could have beens
looking for water
Give me a taste of these things that I waste
Burn me up
Can’t find ruptures
Once the skin’s broken in
Last rapturous voice
Calling me from the grave
But I can’t settle
You woke me up
But test my mettle
And found it wanting
I’m still forming
Sky metal warming
Beat me to shape
My purpose is warring
But those days are past
Never was official
Just a man with a business card
And his hand out
Waking up to a reality I can’t know
Finding life amid the wreckage
But pieces stick
A woken dreamer
Last memories spill across the page
Your song seeps in, moving through my blood, wrapping itself around my heart.
This rhythm holds me to brighter smiles and upturned eyes, grace written in the moue of lips and tone made madness of love, though burning set fire to coils and snap, synapse lapse,
break bread in dreaming but no salt to be had, the wants of memory and a spent shell casing pinging against concrete steps, finality in the cymbal crash, in the sodden thump and cascade, never more,
but the ravens merely hungry and doesn’t want discussion,
drape the sanity like gauze, easily ripped away when it’s purpose conflicts with the grey light of dawn and the question on your lips.
Cast me out but let me fly, though I perch outside your door or bake me in and I mistake the warmth for the sun, flick ash and sand and watch world’s turn but only this once
Say that you are mine and wake me, a dreamer trapped in the dreaming, last relevant elevator pitch meeting,
let passion claim madness, let hope claim strength, let peace weep pain or merely love me, as I love you
When you say, “Sir”, it sends a frission through me. It ignites me like treated wood, builds burn to bright. My possession of you leads to possibilities of public and private. A touch to remind, a choker to mind, a corset to bind, harsh hemp rope making you mine. We are everyday. We are happy. You spark and burn when shocked and bled. My beautiful girl. Mine, mine mine, growl pours from lips to teeth biting clit. My need for you, my joy for you, each touch and sentence spoken, binding us closer. Commands become the choice of happiness and we move in tandem. You to hurt me as I command. My pain is pleasure and you are never denied. Passion pours from us in simple touch, the light in our eyes making truth where others see betrayal. We are blood and hope and fit together. The only thing improper is desire left to rot. But you hop and smile and say Sir. An exploration of boundaries, of each desire taken to the bleeding edge. Our comfort in the choices of each other. Of each other.
Never knowin where this is all going
sifting sand looking for a emerald
that’s too general
not looking for money
this life is not perfect
but some people make it worth it
friends and family
they just want the best for me
they don’t understand what that is though
I’m getting to the point where I don’t know
just looking for that spark that moment
when light shines and its all made clear
mind knows the truth then I start thinking
let grief and fear cloud my feelings
I’m just sinking
waves got me drowning
ocean pulls me under
and makes me wonder if this peaceful sleep is the last thing I’ll choose
but I’ll never go quietly, out like a bang not a whimper
I’ll never be nearer
this hollow maze guides me back to choices made for me
heart that’s full to bursting
alleviate the pressure
fantasy never quite resolving to reality
words are both my truth and my victim
light myself on fire to light your way home to me
but talking to an empty room
it all just ends so soon
endings take care of themselves
but beginnings and middles can last forever
if we work at it
and if it ends
transform to bring me back to you
or break free from your cage and find me no longer in dreams but in the real
woken up to reality which makes sleep a enemy
not wanting to take a step further away from you
even as dreams pull me under