Lost in the night
Blue mist
My soul flew to find yours
That longing stare
For someone who isn’t there
Under the moon
A lonely spotlight
The stars hide
Where are we? Death, we can’t let go
When the world is grey. // Lukewarm
The world in grey
You hear the concrete
The running of footsteps
Coming from painful nights of un-sleep
The world in grey
Blocks of concrete in plain view
You see them close
But nothing lies within
The world in grey
Where a void fills
You feel nothing
Over ghastly dreams
A world in grey
No love lost
And no love to gain.
I call her Serene.
when you think about the end
you don’t think soil and coffins
you think of the lights that have gone by
you visualize the laughters you have spent.
when you think about the end
you don’t think a dead end silence
you think of the peaceful draw
you hear the drumming excitement of a journey passed.
when you think about the end
you don’t think sad weeping souls
you think of the harmony that has been
of a good life lived.
you think about the end,
and you ponder over it.
Say nothing at all
I feel your presence,
and you’re always here.
I can’t have you,
and you’ve always known.
but here I find you,
in days that are constant,
and time that never slows.
I want you,
but not just your presence alone.
I want all of you,
would you give yourself to me?
or
say nothing at all.
be on your way.
to mourn a loss
is like to not say it out at all
it is in the distance
it is in the lonesome
to mourn a loss
is like a presence that could be felt
it is a figure of nothing
but,
a nothingness it is not
to mourn a loss
is like giving up part of yourselves
it is so that one can move on
it is so the body knows it will not be defunct
to mourn a loss
is like to know you have loved
and,
it is because of having loved
that there is a loss
most of all
A loss,
is like to have gained as well.
stillborn
I was, before I am
In the still life I sought, but now I seek
The breath I couldn’t take,
That I will now receive
stillborn, it was mine and it still is
Before the dawn, I sat
In the ambers, I could not go
The burn of touch
And the sin of men
I couldn’t let go, I couldn’t believe
But now, I guess,
stillborn, in your love I’ll live.
In a stairwell deep, you can’t find me
Two lives
one was real
the other was deceit
grabbed my hands
‘no, but don’t follow me’
held me close
‘no, but let me go’
two lives, a line
two lives, a mind
two lives, but a life
i live in twos, but which is deceit.
Only a life
death.
she was always there.
death.
she would be laying there.
death.
they would be holding hands.
death.
he was always here.
death.
he would be standing here.
death.
they would be…
he cried.
a puzzle of no relief, a double means of miss
There are certain things i miss
There are certain people i miss
and then
There are certain moments i miss
These moments are precious but they always slip by
These moments are rare but i never really cared
These moments, these moments do come by
and then
I just stop and stare.
these moments pass us by; never again to have a pair
The 11th Hour
Where no man is safe
And no lady pure.
Draw your curtains in
And hear the wind roar.
A triple knock
And a cold hard lure.
Sets in motion
A place only heard of
a place for unleavened men/a prayer for a place kept pure
suzy being suzy. 