took a blow to the heart
Then woke up with a start
You're just a faded ghost
But you still make me race
You proved problematic
Bridges turn to ashes
You called me problematic
I'm trying not to panic
You're make believe
You're just a ghost
Why does your voice hurt me the most
But I see
We were never meant to be
White lies stitched to my brain
Addiction to love
Addiction to pain
You're just a fragment of a ghost
You're echo hurts the most
But you're drifting away
Slowly like a feather
You're just too late
You left me to my fate
Why does your voice just resonate~
I watch you walk away
I didn't think you'd leave
I thought you knew you meant everything to me
I held you close
You held a knife
I helped heal deep scars
You caused me worse harm
You proved problematic
Bridges turn to ashes
You proved me problematic
I'm trying not to panic
You told me I was safe
I think about all damn day
I just wish you wouldn't fade
before
I fell for you
I wish that you could help me too
I
Broken hearts
Fragmented nations
Clashes and sparks
We fight over ideology
Beliefs in our head
We fight over biology
From which we were bred
Ignoring the skin
And the blood that we shed
To gain nothing more
Then an emperor’s head
To boast of the evil path
On whose ground they tread
Fragmented.
We all have those thoughts.
The dots that become squares again.
And again.
Someone I would have remembered,
If my mind wasn’t so filled with measurements.
I dabble here and there.
Spilling.
Everything is a slice of cheese.
More slices, from the same block.
Shaping wire for no reason.
Eating too much then I can’t remember what I was even eating.
Fragmented.
Where rules become more rules.
Become fewer rules, and spirals.
A mind like mine.
Gets older more quickly than most.
We all have those thoughts.
All of them.
Impel discourse upon one and another,
the unseen veracity of ennui and weariness causes me to covertly smother. Appreciation and fascination moderately transpire,
humanity led solicitous to retire.
A bond have infrequently on any account been achieved,
unassertive alongside what intend to be believed.
Loneliness forge such enchantment
conflicted with despondency.
Fragmented
Worn out
My veil has been stretched and torn at it seams
My face tells a story
Hardened by the damp and the cold
Embittered and coarsened by the wind
The heavy gusts blow me
To and fro
In a whirlwind
Stranded and distant
Solitary
Solitude
Solo
My hands shiver in the cold
The frostbite takes hold of me
My clothes have become tatty and battered
Dusted and covered in mud
My soul lives in a different realm
Beyond myself
My eyes and the soul concealed behind it
Is a façade
It shows a person and a soul
But it is merely an after-image
A ghost
A story
And a front
Sadly
My soul has long since been dead.
In my thoughts poetic words are swirling,
tumbling and whirling like caged birds;
trapped and demanding to be free,
Oh, I must find paper and pen to release them.
My muse is screaming and words are fluttering,
in my head or is that my heart;
I start to write and sad poems come,
words bleeding and dripping from my pen.
Do all poets struggle just like me,
as I pen my words and weep;
the writing done I sigh the pain,
my muse has been set free for now.
Memories are all I have,
and the rain is falling outside my window;
and the pages of my life flutter,
past the ornate gate where voices murmur;
and at night I kiss dead lips and withered hands.
FRAGMENT I
The cars chrome beetle shell brilliant under a harsh sun, blinding
FRAGMENT II
Grey, the color of rain on windows sills, soft white thunder echoes, the streets awash in rain, trees sway in the dying light of day
FRAGMENT III
The return of something loss, but never forgotten, is bitter, as it is sublime
FRAGMENT IV
Casting little shards of jade into boxes of midnight
FRAGMENTS V
Decorate my room with photographs, some faded, some sharp, old or new, some worn, lost, just staring into space, a room a drift in photographs
FRAGMENT VI
Goodnight sweet Violet, tender wings of ravens fly, as the light caresses the indigo twilight coming
FRAGMENT VII
Echo the cries of misery, a tear of pain, all regrets filling my past like wells vast.
FRAGMENT VIII
Arching, into the night the halo of the dying light a brilliant day, the turning turning, burning away
FRAGMENT IX
Crisp sheets warm for the Tumbler, on a frosty morn, memories are fragile, framed n formed
FRAGMENT X
When we sit & ponder, dark intentions, we stumble upon unknown doors, best left unopened, covering deep rooms n dark shadowed things, where dust dare lay
We are all Humans, and we all endure this Earth.
Mindful, existing, and seeing stay brinks of mirth.
Strong is the endemic bond that was justly sheared.
Several are avidly praised, while others were snubbed.
A city founded of threads is what I can set in execution.
I'll create it without a specific design or a firm foundation.
You won't be able to cruelly destroy this construction.
Bettor than that, this is a shade lathering wide validation.
Slowly, with smoke and the mist dwindling, steadily.
What I'll perform for is set you up with the territory.
The policy will lose your youthful request and math.
And waffle and gravel accrual with righteous wrath.
Drum skins, a suffocating universe, and a shivering body!
Through the maze of luck, we'll discover a suitable strategy.
I was just seventeen when I picked all the pieces,
To build a beautiful harbor for all.
I was without clue or glue to cement my wish.
I was only equip with my daring spirit and pure intention.
But one by one, each piece took a plunge from my hand,
Into the pool of uncertainty,
Not without taking part of my heart along.
The last piece just crumbled now and I am shattered
My resolve is to let go of all the moon beans
If I can’t build an empire for all,
I can build a posh city for myself.
17/8/2021
splintered dreams
images faded and torn
with emotions worsening
with time
greatness questioned
as original intent swathed
by gossipy stares create
feelings of dismay
enter doubts of one’s
self-esteem causing
victim like symptoms
with no foreseeable end
to this long and
shadowed
catastrophe
pieces of la-la land
forever falling
You're a naive, dyed-in-the-wool dreamer,
following the erratic paths of hope;
blind to the route fate's chosen for your soul.
Memories are prisms focused on the past;
observing shadows that cannot be changed,
while yesterday's failed dreams levy their toll.
You have shared the innate beauty of love,
and the fantasy of dreamy places;
freeing your spirit to soar like the birds.
But the edge of betrayal cuts like glass;
your wounded heart, bleeding tears of regret,
till anger dictates love's departing words.
From birth to the finality of death,
human emotions are tethered to love;
even those that question its existence.
There is a private place deep in your heart
filled with forgotten, fragmented feelings,
where dreams dwell, fueled by hope's persistence.
My fragmented verse
hardly terse,
blatant and unrehearsed -
little snippets uncaged
inked upon the written page
random thoughts, abbreviated rage;
just like the evening news
death, disaster, scandals untrue and true
for the visionary review;
it could be any one of us who knew
him or her, me or you
waiting for our cue,
with all our flaws and past mistakes
what's left to take
the news that's fake?
and like the cable analysis of the few
exaggerated and often misconstrued
the reality is barely ever truly viewed;
cancel culture, lie, and truth
who pays the final cost and dues?
Just me and you.
A tale with no road maps, no signposts, or mile posts.
Snowstorms stench of winter's busy breath;
dagger dances;
trampled plants plead.
Flings a wanton pebble; on mud, a sparrow thuds;
wing-clipped parakeet limps; eyes freeze with awe.
Azure sky mourns, clotting clouds together;
tear-flood bleeds healing earth, yet drought's monarchy reigns.
How long, how long should we long for
drizzles, gently sprinkling drizzles?
disconnected
thoughts arise — die.
Syllables- 12/10/4/4 12/10/10/12 8/8 4/4 (howmanysyllables.com)
*A 1st Place* in the following contest (judged on March 8, 2021)
March 1, 2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 8) Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: Brian Strand
Half a year ago we were in bed and in love.
Insistent lips danced between sunshine smiles.
Our hands entwined;
the clock’s marched.
Beside dreams of a white dress and honey kisses,
my winter coat now withers on the floor.
The tundra of cold sheets between us grows
while echoes of bitter words chap my face.
We both know that seasons must change,
but why must you too, my darling?
Love, like summer,
succumbs to time.
2/25/2021-- written for Emile Pinet's contest-- fragmented verse
Pieces align when I least expect a ally
Leaving the puzzle of life sagacious
Wise, shrewd, balanced
Aware of hope
Rays of light whisper through me, leaving their vision
To flavor my heart with hues of scarlet
Flowing joy that prays for wisdom and truth
Embracing gasps of sweet compassion which breathes peace
Casting blue shadows on the night
Will love unveil the joyful light?
Mystery sighs
Tender insights
Fragmented Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
February 5, 2021
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