Long Melancholy Poems
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"when there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire"
stars - your ex-lover is dead prelude
i am in the middle of my pool, and i am drowning in melancholy -
my brain, is craving not oxygen, but is craving you.
i'm missing what i cannot even see now, for my vision is going black with love, and for a second, i am ophelia in the lake, but i do know what happens to me the next time i awake.
this is why melancholy used to be considered a disease
for i am drowning, not just in water,
but in my own misdirected sorrow.
as my body shuts down, i crave only one last desire,
to rid the melancholy of everyone's soul, unraveled like a string from a roll of yarn.
though we might still die, we will die less sad,
and as our bodies decompose, our sadness will reach the sky and create sunsets and sunrises in colors we can't comprehend, yet it is still beautiful as tears are brought to our lonesome eyes.
21 july 2019
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019- Melancholy
Dear Heart
I’m drunk, but you’re beautiful,
a line I used to rehearse.
The Dreamers’ artistic longing felt noble,
but it came with a curse.
I bought the ticket when I didn’t know better from worse.
Now I’ve got a tale of rebellion,
and I’ll share it in verse,
it all changed one Star Wars Day,
when my thirst reversed.
May the Fourth, and I felt matured.
No Padawan—now Jedi Master,
just a little unmoored.
Met some friends inclined for chilled wine,
drinking enough to feel ruthlessly divine.
That hazy day, glazed in the usual sway.
That familiar vortex, melancholy perturbed.
Soles stained deeply by the absurd,
fermented grapes, chaos,
and the dark side assured.
The dark side calls as we sit with the thirst,
but Skywalker’s force starts thinking first:
“Unlearn what you have learned.”
Yoda’s wisdom, unrehearsed.
I needed a change, something absolute.
Had to break old habits
and reroute my pursuit.
Flip the script, exit the Aristotle loop.
We can still have fun.
Still embrace the absurd.
Someone said, “It’s Star Wars Day,”
and a spark then occurred.
We found a weird café,
celebrating in cosplay,
and somewhere in that moment,
a new hope was incurred.
Arriving at the venue, a little out of town, we found the clan,
Princess Leia sold us tickets on the door deadpan,
no droids allowed, no stormtroopers,
but there was a sandman,
Inside were Wookies at the bar, slamming shots like my mum can.
Han Solo in carbonite poster hanging on the wall,
Kids having lightsaber fights with bar stools, humming bishoooom loudly down the hall.
Glass cabinets with falcons and dioramas were neat.
Cantina soundtrack playing curiously on repeat,
Grabbed snacks, Empires on screen, so we found a seat.
We wandered deeper past merch and collector cases,
through aisles of toys and cosplayed faces.
The type of folk draw to these kind of conventions,
You know the type without me having to mention,
They filled the room with joy beyond pretension,
I watched them just be, and I wanted that,
but I found I had to be patient.
I don’t have to keep falling for the trap,
it’s not just escape, it must be more pure.
I lost a friend that day, and yeah, it’s still sore.
He bowed out—boozehound chasing the score,
while I found experience, absurdity, and something more secure.
Through the labyrinth of my thoughts, I float like a shadow on murky waters,
seeking meaning in the silent noise of the world,
where men believe their lives are extraordinary,
but in essence, they are nothing more than withered leaves carried by the wind of indifference.
Their stories, like crumbs scattered on arid ground,
awaken only a desire to erase them, to make them disappear,
for they lack even the spark of a dream, the aroma of a thought carried by the soul,
they are just shadows filling the void, a void without echo and without end.
As a writer, I have encountered more of these people than I can remember,
faces blurred by the monotony of days,
they do not read, but merely drag their gaze over lifeless lines,
on screens and papers seething with banality and nonsense.
They believe writers might be drawn to their gray stories,
but I see only monotony in that insipid repetition,
where each day is a pale copy of the previous one,
and each dream is just a faint echo in an ocean of silence.
It is hard to escape them, like a dense fog seeping into your bones,
they know nothing, not even themselves,
they are born and die without ever having found what they were looking for,
and what they seek means nothing to me,
just a wave of boredom and acrimony, nothing more.
And yet, deep within this melancholy,
in the broken mirror of my soul, I find a drop of light,
for in their silence, in their monotony, I rediscover my own search,
my own path through this labyrinth of dreams and memories, of shadows and light.
And perhaps in that endless search,
in that unending wandering,
lies a truth about all of us,
about our struggle to find meaning, a light, a dream.
Lavender hues embrace my thoughts
Bathed in silence, dipped in love
Like a persuasive caress, urgent for
The breathless passion that entices
Burning away all the grief and despair
Through a million years, tears so dark
Penetrating, piercing, pricking my heart
With a lost word, a lost hope, a lost dream
Endless lessons built on hopelessness
Colored in waves of melancholic dread
My heart has felt the pangs of regret
And it has also felt the music of acceptance
I’ve known what it means to let go of love
Also what it is to let go of the pain and fear
Someday I’ll know what it is to let go of breath
As long as I live, I’ll find ways to give
From the depths of my soul.. joy, peace and hope
Love that keeps giving from the innermost soul
Where I always know that God will keep me feeling
Alive with precious mercy and grace, tears of faith
It’s only when I’m all alone and I feel His love
That I can find myself letting go of the tears
The ones I’ve held back – sometimes for years
Holding back tears isn’t as easy as one might believe
There is such release in letting go and letting God
Wipe away the tears that fall from my eyes
When I finally let go of the pain pouring down
Cheeks who have been dry with a drought from
Being unable to allow my feelings their expression
Holding back tears is the only way to know
If there could have come a day when I’d pray
For the chance to let go and allow the dam to break
Spreading the feelings in falling teardrops
The ones that remind me that this pain will ease
And love will dance once again… in the melody
Of winds who whisper their joy to my spirit
Our stories are different
We travel different paths
You go toward the rainbow
While I plod a forest trail
You move through the storms
While rain leaves me feeling
Cold and alone, like I need to
Find shelter from the elements
Our stories are different
We seek a different world
You seek the light of sun and song
While I pursue a challenging thought
Melancholy assuring me that I have
All I need to reach my goals
Pass my tests and face my trials
With assurance that I abide
In the hope that colors my world
With hues of kindness and love
Our stories are different, yet
We both long for our dreams
To come to life on the end of a faith
That falls from our souls, reaching
Down toward our spirits and believing
Grace will call softly through the winds
Whispering inspiration and creativity
Singing songs of tenderness and gentleness
Breathing passion into every part of the heart
Growing a simplicity that beckons for light
Which captures the truth in its brilliance
Our stories are different, yet
We each long for the laughter and praise
That leads us toward joy that stays
Alive through the end of each day
Leaves us sure that we have what it takes
To sigh in silence… breathlessly
Dreams which heal every pain
And spark a twinkle in the eyes of those
Who know that this love living within us
Is a love that brings true serenity
Our stories are different
Yet they remain the same
Tales of convictions that crave
The light that smiles through the heart
Piercing the darkness with assurance
Forcing all the worries from the thoughts
And reminding us why we have it all
If we have the One who gave us life
And continues to abide on the inside
Our stories are tales of thanks to Him
Who created us and gave us the opportunity
To share in His grace and His love
With faith that believes beyond the prayer
And promise that warrants all our best
Because we can know that we have the chance
To reach out and paint our world
In inspiration that comes from above
A wonder that comes from knowing the Son
Who was sent to us by a God who is LOVE
You punctured me with words of painstaking poetry, but yet it was moving ~ ~ ~
You painted a picture of adoration and joy in my heart’s melody
Passion and happiness was never easy to get, but once I got it, there’s no such thing as losing
I won’t be losing this race tonight – you’ll be failing miserably…
Alright, dark angel…
Give me your best shot and show off your dynamic spirits of the abyss
Oh, you little devil…
Come and get me…hunt me down like your next prey..I pray I won’t kiss my distressful mistress
If I were handsome like diamonds in the cave,
I would’ve been like a knight, standing tall and brave
You and I were so perfectly flawed…you are the sunset and I’m the sunrise
You and I never quite fit in like those lonely pieces of the puzzle…you stare me down with knives in your eyes…we were lost in a multitude – oh boy, what a surprise…
Surprises hit you at every angle
Are you a devious devil or an elegant angel?
Be careful what you wish for
What’s behind the closed door?
You open the mysterious door in curiosity (Without hesitation, you let out a defeated cry)
I caught a glimpse of you, wandering around sheepishly (in the labyrinth of your mind’s eye)
Are you lost in your own paradise? Look into my deep blue sea eyes...
I’m done with you...I’ve waved my goodbyes...stop whispering lies...
I no longer walk on sticks, needles and rocks anymore…(your poetry made me ache extremely…I thought out bond was sacred…so holy…)
I knew something was awaiting me – a future in store…(your poetry, on the other hand, made me bleed out melancholy...oh so cruelly)
You are red sun in my gray cloudy sky
Cheering me on despite blues in life
I look up and see your beautiful light
From gold glowing soul such a delight
As white wind beneath my brown wing
You carry cranberry heart love inspiring
Your yellow whimsical smile like spring
Give rise to sapphire songbirds that sing
You are as sweet as sap from green tree
Lime cure your laugh defeats melancholy
Moonlight carves path from Black Sea
That is teal tragic past rebirth’s dream
Your heart is a love flower warm opening
Even in rain shower you power positivity
I can look at you for hours inhaling peace
You empower what nectar is to a bee
Late one afternoon the sizzling sun became a descending illusion
when the diffusion of his fiery fingers were immersed in the sea
I pleaded with my wistful melancholy mood not to claim control
of my sullen soul at the hour of painted skies; birth of gloaming
But roaming went my somber soul in a most unpredictable place
It saw my face in a mirror, searching for pathos. I yearned to feel
something real but couldn't, until frosted veils fell from my eyes
and I realized with crystal clarity; I hadn't been listening to my heart
I needed to start being a person who would not live entangled in lies,
who cries in remorse for the wrongs I'd done when my eyes were blind
I had to be the kind of loyal friend who would never turn my back
on others, nor lack the courage to be valiant, and my faith restore
Forevermore, could I be forgiven for every sin I had ever committed?
When pitted against temptation, I vowed not to give in to the dark
A spark now glows in my heart. Is this the emotion called compassion?
If sympathy were a garment of fashion, I would wear it as my hallmark
I wake up on an autumn morning, when leaves fall like whispers of lost love,
A stranger in my own skin, like a poet in love with the morning light,
I look in the mirror and see a face bearing the desires of a heart on fire,
Dreams scattered like rose petals in the garden of our memories.
My consciousness, a river of burning passions, flows through the landscape of desire,
Carving its path among deep and unspoken feelings,
I wonder if being human means living between longing and fulfillment,
To laugh with the joy of love and cry with the cry of a broken heart, to seek meaning in the gaze of another.
It's a story full of color and fragrance, a journey through the gardens of the soul,
My thoughts are like seagulls flying freely over the sea of love,
A play of light and shadows, lost and found in the touch of the beloved,
Like the wind carrying our secret whispers through the foliage of the starry night.
This endless search is perhaps the song of our hearts,
A mystery that unfolds in verses deeper than any ocean,
The beauty of life is in the search, in hearts that beat with unceasing passion,
Sweet melancholy that keeps us alive, even when love leads us through its infinite labyrinth.
Hope I'm feeling with the old year's passing.
The melancholy days of fall have too long stayed with me.
Fresh changes I await now eagerly.
Fresh changes from the things that went all wrong
and freedom from the thoughts that wake me from my sleep with fear.
These things I'm hoping for in this new year.
Months sped by last year; some were delightful.
Connecting with a nephew I'd never got to know
when he was younger set my heart aglow.
I worry for him now; he's lost his way.
And others also in my life have need of a fresh start.
That they find peace, I pray with all my heart.
New Year, bring us all some peace and comfort,
especially for those I love - each relative and friend -
from start of this new year until its end.
Dec. 31, 2018