Long Eyes only Poems
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I'm not one to make much sound
To let you know what goes around
Inside my head unless you ask
And then to you my thoughts unmask
But I do always think of you
There in the shadows out of view
Together we walk arm in arm
Of just that thought alone I'm charmed
And should you want I'll let you know
What it is I think about
Say "tell me something" then thoughts will flow
What they're of you'll have no doubt
Thoughts of your effect me
Inside where no one else can see
The butterflies, the bumper cars
Collisions and exploding stars
Now those are not for published song
Unpublished are where those belong
Dreams and thoughts of passion play
On endless loop throughout the day
For your eyes only but please recall
They're not about you after all
So read away, it's just a dance
Between desire and romance
Either from constricted throat or hesitated poise,
I find that creepy silence a deafening noise!
Like bees it buzzes in the core of my frazzled mind
Speak up, my dear, if you can be so kind!
See, like a red red rose withering to gray,
I find myself fading day after day
Left out to wonder what your mind may do,
I blush like a virgin nun, but tingle blue
If eyes only had a big, fat mouth
We’d be married with children and a fine, nice house
But love, eyes can only do so much!
If I feel mine water, I will hide it with a punch!
For cat’s sake—snap out of this frustrating state!
Look alive, help us both feel great!
I promise if I wither like that tearful rose
I will spray you with my not-so-silent hose!
See the tears spilling from a mother's eyes;
cradling her child in her arms as he dies.
And feel the anguish that she feels inside:
her baby was shot in his school and died.
Watch a black man drop to his knees in pain;
after the police beat him, yet again.
And feel the shame he is forced to endure,
acquiesce, or be beaten even more.
Think of a beggar, homeless on the street;
labeled a parasite and a deadbeat.
And for a brief time, step into his shoes,
accused of panhandling just to buy booze.
All hopes for a meaningful life are gone:
he's routinely ridiculed and spat on.
And love is something that’s reserved for dreams,
amidst the nightmares and the silent screams.
There is much we choose not to see or feel,
telling ourselves these things can't be real.
In our alternative reality,
our eyes only see what we want to see.
I want to dance on the moon
To forget the gravity of my life
To feel weightless
When everything brings me down
To visualize the void
Unfolded for my eyes only
I wonder what it would be like
To sail a sea of stars
To escape the shackles of alleged freedom
And to truly be free
These things are only imagined
But I can feel reality
It's dragging me back down
To a place where everything is mundane
And freedom is simply a ruse
When humanity is replaced with inhumanity
Is is so truly strange
That I want to escape it all
In the ethereal tendrils of space
Where the song is truly out of tune
But so many are dancing
And I can't even find my footing
I just want to dance on the moon
To escape the gravity of my own reality
You turned around and for a second I thought I was in a book, a romance novel
I thought you were the one, my hero
You smiled and my heart skipped a beat ...I had butterflies in my chest
I thought you were my soul mate the minute we met...foolish me
I thought I found happiness in your eyes, only pain and sorrow
love is the miracle I thought I found in your arms when we hugged
I was hoping for my happy ending …wedding and children
This novel doesn’t have happy ever after …well not for me
Letting go is hard to do when you made another choice ...I hope you and her all the best with your new life...my broken heart will miss you
I guess I wasn't your soul mate...I am the foolish one, I guess every book has one ...Loveless ending.
You are a fantastic sufferer,
A passionate star striker-heightening my tears to happiness
How I wish for merely a moment, that I could forget all my fears
And allow myself to imagine your warm arms around me
Telling me "Alone you never be in this fight against the maggots"
And I would lay my head against you in peace,
Calmed by your heavenly inhalations
For once knowing, I never fight in the solitary despair of Alone
Reaching peaks of patience, I long to remove memories of the unattainable
Had his green eyes only met my own again...
Yet well I know, the dark intense eyes that see me,
Would admonish and feed me
With wisdom and excitement far superior than the offerings of kings
That claw my back in lust, and promise impossible things
An obsession far more potent than the wines I never drink
Do not make me cling into the furies of obsession again
Let me know you feel the same
Or else I will lay my head against the rocks,
Cradled by unpredictable seas
Laboring in merciful grief,
I seek the truth
Because whatever the answer, I will always admire you
Leave me alone....
Or Forever be my own
"Demons cry because they know your beauty surpasses the ugliest-- the most glorious."
For you and your eyes only
For when you are alone or feeling lonely
From my heart to yours
And all it endures
My thoughts on paper because my mouth can't express the pain
It will only allow me to explain without placing blame
Held on for months at time
Trying to figure out if I'm dumb or just blind
And I've come the conclusion that I'm neither
Gullable either
Taking the back roads to avoid the front streets
Making u-turns to diminish the meets and greets
Being cautions of what or what not to say
On Sunday
The day that we exchange our boys from father to mother
One year later still dealing with third parties with one another
All is forgiven, all has been forgot
But holding on any longer I will not
You always tell me how much you love my poetry
but is that the only reason you feel drawn to me?
I write Sonnets filled with love and romance for you,
adoring stanzas meant to caress your heart and soul,
but is it my rhyming words, or me that you cherish?
If I no longer wrote about the silvered moon in eclipse,
would your soft parted lips still want to cling to mine?
I could gladly write all day and night to please you,
but if I did not clasp a feathered quill in my hand,
I wonder... would you still hold me dear in your life?
I sit and write only for you lately. Am I fooling myself
to think it's just for the words I scribble on parchment
that you've become enthralled with the flair of my pen.
What then, my love? If no longer I could compose
expressions of devoutness meant for your eyes only.
With reverence, I beseech you to love me for who I am.
Would you leave me in painful throes of heartache,
forsaking my heart when my muse no longer expresses
the passionate verses you seek me to scribe for you?
Would you love me if I wasn't a poet, darling, scrawling
arduous words to describe the beauty of your face,
or the changing shades of grey in your wintery eyes?
No, dear one. Do not answer the questions I ask of you
for to hear your voice deny me of your love, I'd become
incapable of ever authoring another affectionate line.
I would tear my pages of poetry in half and burn them.
Grief-stricken; my tears blurring the ink to ever write again.
Despoiled of the will to create even one more quixotic verse.
The lights of reason haven't yet shone through,
The reason as to why should be I living or be dead,
What the path even represents,
With the seemingly infinite end it presents.
Should the eyes only marvel,
At the white splatters on the blue canvas
And everything beneath?
Should the heart be concerned,
About the seemingly meaningless responsibilities,
About the inevitable end?
The answers still lie latent in the shadows
If the existence of one even occurs,
Or maybe,
I am the answer to my life,
As is everybody else,
As I walk slow but steady,
Till I kiss the hands of death herself.
Reverse Engineering a Surreal Eden.
To grow a mountain, - - - - - right!
In, an old jam jar, yeh right!
Of clean soil, Soil! Isn’t that soiled?
Such a seed could be, soiled and would be exclusive;
Perhaps part time growing in window box?
May save the roof? No rain mind, just a tarry dim sun,
Breezed by a filthy wind ; alone!
in its eroded scraggy day, while
expanding, a different slice of the colour green.
Pushed skywards, it all looks the same!
What about Apples and Snakes?
and our engineered countryside,
of plastic and glass, filling allotments,
with mirrors for the gods! And soured bogs.
Eyes only open at jar breaking time
Its stop tap, but no tap to stop, too late,
And – the mountain? We shall keep it
Under the bed, so it can’t be seen.