Has the fire indeed left the passion of this brush….. leaving now only colored strokes smeared upon the canvas…
where once reigned hopes of calling to memory past days of glory and triumph
Categories:
passionless, passion,
Form: Free verse
off by all only slightly, like a biker wearing a white striped, black leather jacket passing through the middle of the lane.
"ive gone crazy before i can handle this"
"oh its eleven o' clock"
like a scene with an edited in shake and a man pulling at his hair yelling out
loud.
"i just want to live happily... normally happily"
"bah i cant bear it!!! i guess I'll give in"
on by all every so fully, as if the car got hit because of the biker
Categories:
passionless, 10th grade, absence, anxiety,
Form: Free verse
I have forgotten you
Said she, trying to be true
Hiding away her wounds
In her wrecked mood
And there he stood
With that look
Being crude
Not caring of her droop
He lives his way
She lives in dismay
Because she loves
And he won't say the word
Categories:
passionless, blue,
Form: Vaasokht
I remember it so clearly,
The first time I saw you.
You said you loved my aviators.
Our meeting was so ordinary,
And having nothing witty to say
I just asked your name
Standing in that long driveway.
Who would have thought
Two years later
I would be whispering your name
To the deaf and passionless leaves
Just trying to ease the pressure
On my shackled, poem-filled, heart.
Focusing each minute you're near
On the propinquity of the irresistible.
Everything about you draws me,
And I am always pushing back
Against that ever present urge
To fall in love with you.
Categories:
passionless, beauty, desire, for her,
Form: Free verse
THE PASSIONLESS REVOLUTIONARY
A ragged impulse – the scrivener’s tetch
truncated our conversation on the working
class. Your brief was their craft
was their art, which liberation lost
to them: mine was an impounded version
of the waggoner’s instance, the vetch
caught up in the wheel, thus anneal
the war on wills, the writer’s mockery.
Justice, your fruitless wand and weal
is power to blow the thrust of the argument
over the innocent sweet scatterbrained
head of your sister. The lace-
maker’s art has a hand in this, but
like fingerless gloves, makes raw vision blind.
published IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin 2008
Categories:
passionless, conflict, discrimination, rights,
Form: Sonnet
the rations of hope tears me down, wears me down, and scares me down
why must i follow the hollow regions in which i dare choose to wallow
the enjoyment of the employment is so strangely and mysteriously flamboyant
i will never ever pull the lever like i am the poster boy for 'clever'
where my heart goes, it plays 'follow the leader' with yours
you never know i am watching because you always know i am there
reciprocity is like the constipated gymnastics that makes my reflexes feel arthritic
there are two raindrops on my coat in the cold, and as a result i die a slow death
what must i do to find a clue to dissolve the vapors of this voodoo
how must i be to prove to The Main Me that somewhere internally there still exists a zest and some glee
why can i not truly conceal the lack that is always off track in a sooty veil of pitch basic black
it must be because the pause that life insinuates always seems to have that inevitable hidden clause....
Categories:
passionless, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Sorry for the many times I have loved you.
For the endless nights my images leech,
And dote upon your memory.
Had not it that your peace drives my last nerve to insanity, -
Need I mention cupid, the missing factor in this equation?-
I fray, find me less a wife.
I do your foil find pleasure in,
Than that the clergy should hear my vows to you.
I tremble at the very imps I term your kisses.
Were they, only less sweet?
The ugly I so love in you-
Only this would be my death,-
A blunt, in a knavery of emotions so deep within
Yet roaming much without, about, unorthodox in time and sequence
Categories:
passionless, lost love
Form: I do not know?