We exchanged I love you’s and went our separate ways.
destiny had been kind to us for a season
Now, overflowing in tears
the nostalgia for something so wondrous and fair nearly kills me
It’s something different that the memories -
the dry uncontrollable ache of loss
which I daily transmute with ritual:
Fresh thyme grown in a pot near my feet,
Infused in oil in a jar
daily performed.
Searching in a new place and time
I play a different song
I finally got it through my head but
just cant break it to my heart.
What happened to the funny man
that insecure comedian
O, not done, he carries on
transcendent verse, his latest con
I never told her I loved her;
Back then I was much too shy.
Always fearing rejection,
I let opportunities pass me by.
I thought she was too good for me,
I wouldn’t stand a chance.
And that she’d only laugh at me
If I asked her for a dance.
I bumped into her yesterday,
Her family in tow
And we got to chatting of
Those school days long ago.
She said, “I have a secret,
That no-one ever knew.
All the time we were at school,
I really fancied you.”
I made myself the light to guide you through,
But the one who was lost was never even you.
I drained my glow to save you,
left to fade in the dark,
I pray fate never lets you steal someone's spark.
Don't ask me if I'm doing fine,
I won't let myself cross that line.
Back to that place again,
Where there was only pain.
Time seems to go faster, the older you get.
Your youth takes the hit.
Days go by.
Time won't stand still, no matter how hard I try.
Time has left me behind.
Perhaps a memory, in someone else's mind.
Days go by.
As the sun zips across the sky.
Kissing yesterday good bye.
I'm exactly where I need to be.
I see
The coming of tomorrow.
My land of no sorrow.
As far as I can see..
I was, maybe, never meant to be.
As the world passes me by.
I surely do try.
Not to cry.
As I make my way.
Through each day.
For me, life is a gift.
A smile gives the heart a lift.
Words in my head, float around
Silence, the absence of sound.
I refuse to place a knee on the ground.
I've taken life's best hit.
Still I refuse to quit.
Take a deep breath.
What is death.
Writing my rhymes.
Lost in past times.
I can still smile
No sense of style.
But I live.
Of my heart I give.
Lonely.
No one and only.
I don't mind.
I find.
Being left behind.
The more life passes me by.
The less I cry.
He Sculpted her from, a block of ice
and he had an image, drawn down, it twice
a million ice pleats, in her dress, that glowed
he must carve it slow, must carve it slowwwwww
and the light behind her, showed no imperfect flaws
so he sculpt her more, scattered shards, fell to the floor
and he carved her bodice, of frozen plumes
to mimic feathers, that appeared to move
so up and down, frozen , round and round
and just like Artic water, but it had no sound
and strings of ice beads, from her shoulders edge
her covered garment, the strands did blend
not once , imagination , did ever wavering
though her ice cold eyes, had splintered shavings
so he kept stepping back, to view , his work of Art
sublimation decor, this woman, would never part
but he took too long , in this Art, admired
for now it melted, for time makes , ice,
....so very tired.
FIND HOME
For those wondering souls who’s lost their way,
who has even forgotten their name,
For those of you, who lost their faith,
because of more than your fair share of pain.
A life of roses among the thorns,
more than petals paving the way,
More than joys, your sorrows worn,
a soul with holes like soles of shoes each day.
Would that I could have saved you,
From the cruelties your mind and heart endured,
Would could I have even prevented,
What they said was for you, no cure.
Would that I could have pointed to signs,
When your obscured vision had gone,
But the lady has now laid down the path,
for her lost children to find their way home.
For those who had gone in another direction
although Jesus said, “I am the Way”
No other Truth, no other Light there be,
it was a lie that led you astray.
Come now my children, like a mother hen,
shielding her chicks from the storms,
The grace of Christ to gather you,
in His loving protective arms.
At Christ’s return to collect His bride,
And soon we’ll be rapturously gone,
But there will still remain a narrow way
a martyr’s path in red showing the way home.
I am the man who had the feet of clay
All these years later, I feel I must confess
I’m the reason that you couldn’t stay.
Fearful, immature, and selfish to this day,
I loved you truly, but I caused you distress.
I am the man who has the feet of clay.
I was hurt, and I had hurtful things to say,
but the fault was surely mine, no more, no less.
I’m the reason that you couldn’t stay.
That you’ve found love and happiness, I pray.
This, my dear, I can honestly express -
I, the man who has the feet of clay.
I ruminate on all I threw away,
and the life of love that we could not possess.
I’m the reason that you couldn’t stay.
In my heart, I know at last, now old and gray,
why I never saw you in a wedding dress.
I’m the reason that you couldn’t stay.
Yours, with love, the man with feet of clay.
1. The Thing I Never Said
THE ALMOST
Your eyes spoke more before you said a word,
your smile shone bright before your name was known.
I remember those eyes that looked with love,
I remember those moments more than my own.
Every moment, every word
had light, love, and shyness,
till both of us came to know
our hearts were meant to beat together.
We learnt each other's laughter,
those dreams filled with you,
those momentary pleasures of love
that fluttered my heart like a dove.
I noted everything down,
in the back of my mind,
wishing someday
you would become mine.
I thought you would stay till the end,
but I don't know what made your heart bend.
For everything that ever happened
filled my heart with the almost.
And the only thing I did
was break into pieces.
But wasn't it too late to realise
that the thing was my unwavering trust?
I still remember those moments, but now,
those eyes turned away from me without a word.
Your smile faded,
as your lips no longer shaped my name.
Your eyes spoke less
before you left me unheard.
~solace ash
There’s an emptiness inside me
That makes me hollow
But takes up space.
It crushes me internally,
Takes away my hunger
And doesn’t let me breathe.
I have to force my lungs
To take in the air
Like I’m mouth-feeding my inner child.
But all I take in
Is pain
that keeps me empty.
But then I find you again.
I feel your presence,
Even though we don’t belong
To each-other anymore
And I feel the colors
of your soul,
Even tho you don’t want me
Around anymore.
And then You look at me
Like I have never held you
And You speak to me
Like I’ve never heard you sing
And that pain fills me
But at least I’m not hollow
Anymore.
What are you doing here, Crane?
In the mountains with your long legs and backwards knees?
Your head bobbing forward with each step,
we’re not used to birds like you.
The magpie is watching too,
before he goes on with his morning tea.
Thanks for coming
but I hope you can find your way home.
TACTILE
By Frank Daub
Tactilis – the Ancients said.
“Capable of being touched” –
There is a heaviness in this word,
That awakens the soul – too much.
Of lost proximity, hand
Touching – hand?
Or
Love
reaching the empty space
Of an unresponsive land.
I am singing from a corner of the house
Sweet or hoarse,sentimental or appealing,melody or clamour
No one bother and no one can help
People are violating
Virus is attacking
Sad, heartbroken and a chaos
I am lost
I sing to the underprivileged and unfortunates
And also the Almighty God for help
I can only sing
Lost in love,
yet still in love.
Oh, my
I've tried more than enough.
So let the wind take me.
Let it carry what I cannot.
Let me flow
far from my worries,
somewhere
I am free.
Beneath a crown of jagged, frozen night,
He sits upon a throne of ash and bone.
His breathing steals the silver from the light,
And leaves the gasping, frightened world alone.
No crimson robe adorns this solemn king,
But woven shadows draped across his chest.
He does not speak, yet dark horizons ring
With quiet echoes of his utter task.
His scepter is the sudden, chilling frost
That halts the beating of a summer heart.
He counts the treasures that the living lost,
And tears the fabric of the stars apart.
Yet beauty lingers in his hollow gaze,
A quiet peace within the longest sleep.
He ends the torment of the winding maze,
And guards the secrets that the dead must keep.
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