Buried in 'maybe'
A throbbing heart toils for a throbbing mind,
Heart beating on its cage of rib -
It's only a matter of time
Ready to bust out of that joint
Make a run for it and
Breakaway
Worked like a slave,
Your blood-pumping knave
Tired, shifty-eyed & opaque
Make no mistake:
It'll burst straight thru your chest
Go running off right before your dead eyes
And you'll never see it again.
I can't understand your description of love
As I scroll and I scroll through the pages once more
For it pains me to tell you that in all of my time
I have failed to feel for what you account for
You see my first love was tricky and hard to persuade
But I was chemically bonded, a butterfly flight
And out of the spring, when the bluebells collected
'Round the time that magnolias were flowering white
The air seemed fresher and the day seemed lighter
And I decided to eat properly then try to keep fit
But nothing delivered when soon it was awkward
So I went off my food and just gave up on it.
And as short as it was, as misguided I seemed
As a victim of romance and human desires
Now I live all alone and I don't get out much
So the chances of ever reigniting the fires...
My rhymes seem quite foolish, the rhythm is stuck
This love was a test, the prototype, a trial
It gave me a taste of what it felt like to feel
The flourish, the nerves and the natural smile.
Perplexed--and next?
5 years of faded eternity,
a secure mirage of schedules and deadlines--
edges disintegrated,
blurring into one irrepeatable experience,
one pasty mirage that materialized a diploma.
Years staring back, I can see
from this same porch I remember, just home from college #2, staring through eyes unteared hearing a proclaimation of Failure.
"Did you use drugs?" father asked. "LSD? Grass?"
The lie split in half through a comedown from a hazy green laziness. A directionless fog. Explain failure? Why, I saw nothing worth fixing.
What future? What future? Today.
I saw no future within a year, when the dreaded dropout stigma stung all will. My refuse decayed, hardened rough, and shaped in fervent heat underground.
Failure is my forming pressure--
to disbelieve is naive:
Failure exists to transform;
its driving heat must purge
Imperfections--must instill
Reflecting luster on unearthed
Materials. Polished from
Adversity, a woman or man
may realize potential more rare.
Ouroboros--
I chased my tail back
to a place I was fool enough
to leave--I received a degree
conceived from restlessness,
grown from focus,
a claiming of self
I now know exists.
Said the king to the colonel,
'The complaints are eternal,
That you Irish give more trouble
Than any other corps.'
Said the colonel to the king,
'This complaint is no new thing,
For your foemen, sire,
have made it A hundred times before.'
Watching the curtains flutter was relaxing,
the window was open wide letting in a breeze,
it was evening but the air was warm,
and there was a strong smell in the air,
a summer smell,
it was one of those intense nostalgic kind of smells,
that flare up emotions with old memories,
and people in the gardens were laughing and drinking.
We were lying down on a mattress on the floor in your dad’s room,
both naked,
my pale white skin touching against your beautiful Arabic skin,
the colour of coffee.
A perfect mixture, sweet coffee and milk,
surely we were made for each other?
And you had your tiny arm wrapped around my waist,
your soft hand holding my chest,
and on my back I could feel your small breasts,
and your lips breathing hot breath down my neck
I was almost asleep.
I am falling
No
I am about to fall
There are instructions in my hand
something about landing safely
Something about floating
Not flying
I do not know who has decided this for me
There are tools in my hands
I am expected to build a kite in the freefall I think
Somone pushes me
If I land safely then she will love me
this is dream truth
I am a kite now
I let my string drag along the surface of the earth
Reel me in as I pass by
Or don't
I don't care
I can't fly
But I can't fall anymore either
I know this story
Two broken toys
Lives miming parody
Cruel tragedy
A girl behind glass
We can't touch our
Hearts live in the past
We could press up
Against the pain of glass
It doesn't matter what we want
When your broken you just can't
I know how it is
Fate whispers tragedy
It can't be I want to die
Living dead presently
I see the world through glass
A world of people to see
They're mouthing words I can't hear
I scream but they can't touch me
I'm disconnected and distant
Shadow soul ghost echo
Ephermal intangible animal
Easily confused by what's real
Surviving starts this prison feeling
Crying staring at the ceiling
With every fiber of being
Longing to feel anything
I could sleep with you
Never touch soul just body
Fickle fates heart is a tyrant
One of life's little ironies
So you'll always be
The girl behind glass
Pretty snowglobe to stare at
Cold winter dream untouched
Secret hidden heart hurting enough
Find enough snowglobes
You'll learn to let go
We only have what we hold
Was it you we'll never know
But I'll remember you fondly
In your time of winter and trees most
Memories of hope I'll keep close
The last time someone touched my heart
These days I don't have many of those
We're throwing flowers at glaciers here, with all of the corresponding efficacy you'd expect :-) Sometimes it's not what works but that you're still capable of trying.
What you walk away with is something like hope, rescued from tragedy and you cherish that momentary happiness until it collapses and time elapses and you walk away dazed and confused with pleasant if misguided memories of having your heart touched, even if it was for the briefest of moments.





