New Eyes

February 21, 2011

I got new eyes today,
and saw the world in a different way.
The ground was closer and full of sway,
stomach churning at the thought.

I could see for miles ahead,
understood what was left unsaid,
but turned the other cheek instead
to save all that I have wrought.

They look so strange on me,
frame my face peculiarly,
enhance some features new to me
and cull some which are naught.

I can see the people, cold,
constant battle of new and old,
and the folly of a heart of gold
with the new eyes that I’ve got.

Blue Sky

January 29, 2011

I don’t understand you.

Those are clouds, my friend.
Despite popular belief, the sky’s
still blue behind them.
Still as water when the wind is dead.

We leave time when we sleep–
and I go to bookstores,
searching for the ever-elusive
volume in paperback.
The surrounding’s always different,
name escaping as I wake.

Wake up.

I still don’t understand.
Why.
How.
Why my feet don’t touch the ground.
How to act when you’re around.

Why I don’t need to act when you’re around.

But there isn’t any sound.

And while I ponder,
I peruse bookstores in a dream,
while my sky is still blue
behind the clouds.

Can We Just Be Friends?

November 9, 2010

I called you from a payphone
just to hear your voice.
I’ve come so far away from you
but there wasn’t much a choice.

I didn’t want to leave,
but with what I have to say,
we’ll both just end up hurting
so I know that I can’t stay.

I watched the sunset ‘cross the harbour,
with a melancholy stare,
and reached out for your hand
although I knew it wasn’t there.

I didn’t want to think it,
but as I travelled every mile,
there was always something waiting
to remind me of your smile.

And the road keeps winding on, and on and on.
I wonder if you think about me
even though I’m gone.
And the minutes crawl,
goddamn it all,
what if this never ends?
Those five words will haunt me ’til the end,
“Can we just be friends?”

I heard a song play on the radio
and I whispered every word,
lyrics forming a complex spell
to make reality less absurd.

I didn’t want to remember
where I’d heard those words before.
But I’d give damn near anything
for you to whisper them once more.

And the road keeps winding on, and on and on.
I wonder if you think about me
even though I’m gone.
And the minutes crawl,
goddamn it all,
what if this never ends?
The answer’s waiting just around the bend,
But can we just be friends?

If I
could say what’s really weighing on my mind,
then I
wouldn’t be so lost enough to have to find.
But I
must find the space that I require to unwind.
Let go…
Just let me go…

I felt a warm breeze through the window,
and inhaled the sweetest scent,
and knew that it had followed
every place that I had went.

I didn’t want to admit it,
but it smelled of salty shores–
of firsts, of wonder and honesty–
and I knew that it was yours.

And the road keeps winding on, and on and on.
I wonder if you think about me
even though I’m gone.
And the minutes crawl,
goddamn it all,
what if this never ends?
Don’t know if I’ll be homeward bound again,
but can we just be friends?
Oo-oooo…
I miss you, so I guess I’ll just pretend,
that we can just be friends.
Let’s just be friends.

The Last Word

August 10, 2010

Lines of poetry,
forced or unbidden,
words of a muse
and carelessly written,
of lyrics
and nightlife
and storms gone unridden.
It’s time to put them to bed.
The images flow in her head
with the sea,
the stars
and the dead.
They shout for her daily
yet go unheard,
invisible prophets
of a stone-ancient word
in a mechanical place
which becomes more absurd
with ingenuity,
tender
and chance.
It’s time to take up the lance
and pierce the heart of romance.
For who–in a world
of communication,
of lattes,
and brunch dates,
instant gratification–
who is guaranteed
to grasp that sensation?
Is that what the fates have in store?
How can she possibly bid him for more?
For kindness,
kisses
and gore?
Open up freely and let the pen lead.
If she listens to prophets she’s bound to succeed
in life,
and in love.
She’ll make herself bleed
with trying to make herself heard.
Who cares if they call her a nerd?
She’ll manage to have the last word.

Untitled

June 14, 2010

I found this today–a poem I wrote in grade 9 in my school agenda, and my mind has wandered to it every now and again, wishing I could post it. I’m happy to say I’m still proud of it! :D

Take upon thyself
a braver quest
than those who braved before ye.
Not for fame,
nor glory,
nay for thy soul.
The only way to tame it
and call it thine own.
The thrill of fantasy to tire it out,
and refresh it both in one.

Yet if ye feel thy soul be rested,
so it be done.
But those who restlessly wander,
take up thine weapon,
thy pen, or tongue,
and tell me thine journey–
Places to travel,
loves to be lost,
battles to be won.

Quote

May 18, 2010

“I am strong, poetic, passionate and living–that which is better than to simply say, ‘I am alive’.”

Fly On

November 9, 2009

May your flight never be weary,
as you find your final place.
May your heart be full of laughter
and your soul be full of grace.

May we find solace in each other,
and the strength to help us stand.
May there be songs, and drinks, and memories
passed on hand-to-hand.

May the powers that command you
guide you straight and true.
May they keep you and protect you
and give nothing but your due.

And may we someday meet again,
whenever it may be.
Until then, farewell my friend–
Fly on, as you are free.

Dedicated to Sgt. Justin Decrow, killed in the Fort Hood shooting on November 5th, 2009.

Beginning to End

September 8, 2009

It’s 6am,
and there’s way too much to think about,
I’m wandering in circles again.

There’s longing,
but then there’s something else to see
underneath the surface of my skin.

If there was ever a hope
as there’s been a doubt
I wish it would turn itself
all inside-out.
‘Cause there’s nothing left to absorb
but it’s all sinking in–
beginning to end.

It’s become
far too hard to hold at night
because we both seem to be struck dumb.

There are tears,
but all they do is dam up my eyes,
making me wish that I was numb.

If there was ever a hope
as there’s been a doubt
I wish it would turn itself
all inside-out.
‘Cause it’s going to be harder tonight
than ever it’s been–
beginning to end.

You’re away,
and I’m trying hard to cope with it
but all these thoughts keep getting in the way.

I’m strong,
and despite the raving madness I’m
convinced that I’ll get over you someday.

But if there was ever a hope
as there’s been a doubt
I wish it would turn itself
all inside-out.
I’ve said it before but I won’t get
to say it again–
beginning to end.

Beginning to end.

It’s Over

June 15, 2009

There’s nothing left to tell you
but the silence of my tears.
There’s nothing left to dream of
except my anxieties and fears.
And if you think we’re dying
you might cut me a little slack.
I don’t wanna say it’s over,
’cause if it’s over
I’m never coming back.

If I could only show you
the hurt I have endured,
I might be more understanding
or perhaps more self-assured.
But since I’ve got no happiness–
and you know that’s a fact–
I don’t wanna say it’s over,
’cause if it’s over
I’m never coming back.

If you could say the reasons why
or even what you wanted,
I could proudly hold my head up high
and even act undaunted.
But there’s no way you can prove to me
that my feelings were untrue
because even when you were far from me
all I could see was you…

I know that you are waiting
for what I have to say.
But if my silence was me shouting
would it be better off that way?
There’s got to be an answer,
to get lives back on track.
But be careful what you wish for
’cause if I say it’s over–
is it really over?–
I don’t want to say it’s over,
’cause if it’s over
I’m never coming back.

For Me

December 28, 2008

For me there was the love
which I had never thought to know,
with the strength to let it in,
and the courage to let it grow.

And for me there was the laughter,
unbridled and unspent,
bringing happiness abounding
as it followed where we went.

And for me there was a kiss
so tangible and true,
that it shattered my perception
and showed the world anew.

But for me there is the silence,
in the gap too wide to cross–
a deep, foreboding chasm
in which I fear I may be lost.

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