Some Poetry

This is my favorite poem, really. It doesn't even have a title, although a friend once titled it 'social acceptance' but I don't think that captures what the poem is about. if you wanna know, email me.

All or None,

The Voice sighed

in reply Society cried

All or Death

and Died.

This one I just wrote one day…there is kinda a story behind it, and kinda just fancy.

I sit and turn the pages

Of my picture book, mental pictures

Come and flee again as I take

Them out from under plastic

Covers long hidden in the dusty

Recesses of my mind.

Your face, that smile,

The devil may care gleam in your eye -

I put your picture back under its plastic

Slip, always there to remind me of your love,

Of folly, of mistakes. It doesn't affect me now,

Has little power to move me. I see the half empty

Pages of your sometimes-love, crystal

Clear in my mind. Cold-hearted

I come to the last image in my picture book

And from deep recesses,

I see myself

~

with a smile of pure love gracing my lips

I looked to you that was my love.

I followed you for a wide, and finally

To a desert where you beckoned toward the sand.

I turned to look at that golden landscape

And you disappeared. I turned and saw a lush

Oasis where I knew in my heart of hearts

My love waited for me. I began crossing

The sands. I, reaching the oasis,

Thirsty, so thirsty for your love.

I found you at last, in repose.

Drink, you commanded, and I fell to the ground

To drink of the water of your love,

And I drank the golden splendor of the sand

In all its dry, unfulfilling

Glory.

~

I place that picture back

Under its sheet of plastic,

And forget yet again that it ever

Happened. It goes unnoticed for years,

Or maybe days, dry and dusty

As your love.

Here's something a little more recent…actually, I am about to compose it as I sit here..lemme know what you think.

Did you ever have that

Feeling, in the pit of

Your stomach, that

Butterflies leaping

In the sky feeling?

The one where you just

Know it was love?

Yeah, me either.

It must have been

Indigestion.

This poem, I think, speaks for itself.

Poems on Silence

As I sit here in silence

A little piece of me dies.

I can hear you breathing,

Or the tv blaring in the background,

Yet none of you is important

Enough to share with me

Beyond the pleasantries.

As a piece of me dies, its

Agonized death cries eek out

As silent tears, falling in wonder

Down ashen cheeks.

The silence is damning, a death knell.

My death passes so slowly as not

To be noticed, yet it comes sliding out

My tightly squeezed eyes to land with my tears.

~

Whoever said silence is golden

Was never a person in love, for

He would have known that silence

holds secrets

Or fears,

Or unpleasantries best heard sitting down.

So as silence covers me,

Bathes me in disquietude,

I think back to the golden days,

The hey days where I bathed in the

Splendor of your love.