1967 -    
May 16

Tell me the truth
If I had opened up and told you how I felt
If I had worn my heart on my sleeve so it was obvious
Would it have made a difference ?

May 15

She hangs the memories of what could of been back on the crooked shelf
Once a silence reigned where now the roaring of lions frequents her moments
To have to hold to free to let go to live to die to just be one self in a chaotic stage play
Hold her hand a while
Trace the veins which feed her soul , mind and body
She is not perfect
But somehow close for all her faults
You should of took it further
She would of held you for a life time
Fear is placed where humans dare not tread
Your  eyes swim with confusion
She can smooth the waters if only you could slow down
She has the music of mermaids and the power of the shaman
You let that go at the dark hour when you stopped and forgot to breathe
She held you there
Then you turned and walked away
Head held low as you fell in love with others who only brought you to your knees
Years passing
lovers come and go
She holds a small corner
Not in wanting but in yearning for
Not in yearning but in a knowingness
Once she loves she never forgets the taste upon her tongue
Pass by
Walk on
Head low
No more tears fall from these eyes
Love is gone
Now all there is a selfless understanding of belonging to one self
Connections blocked

Apr 1

Do not touch my fragile skin
Your finger tips burn my soul
I do not need the love you hold in your heart
It is dark and wanting
You stray from the path
The wolf of fairy tales is your guide
Slowly step away from me
Take your sun from my eyes and your moon from my nights
I love only the earth below my feet
All else means that this is no longer fantasy
Burning desire
Blood dripping
Miracles are made when we forget to distrust
You wandered passed me
You turned your head
I so wish you had turn down a different road
I'm happy alone
Shall I shout that from the highest hill
Now roll back down and retrieve your crown of thorns
Righteousness dressed in evil disguise
Do not touch my fragile skin
Please look down and pass me by
Your sight upon me burns my soul
I can't live that way again

Feb 19

No one comes here
A Barron place
Where bombs have been dropped
Words spread on paper like the blood spread across our conscience
Many battles have been faught and won here
Many man has come and gone
More gone than survived
I miss them all
Friends I thought were but candles flickering
Too tender
Too hurt and fragmented
Just visiting to vent or create
Or to connect with themselves through others
I step carefully through the rumble
There are too many ghosts
Wandering lonely
About these walls

  Feb 18  Rai
Jan 30

Have you ever truly tried
To change your mind
Of all those ways
We're taught to think

Like how to measure human life
On a blueprint of love and hate
All those years of fairy tales
Invisible spirits tied to fate

Have you ever questioned
Your mother's sighs
Or your father's
Heated rage

How could we have navigated
Through the darkness
Of our youth
Freshly developed brains
Washed in vintage child abuse

But here and now
Is where it starts
The evolution of our hearts...

Feb 18

Sink deeper
Love longer
Hold on tighter
Force fed desire
Projectile your words off all corners
Then cling steadfast
Tantalising moments
Without the helpless need to surrender
Then free fall backwards
Spiralling staircases
Memours so simply spoken
Crashing onto concrete
Without a trace
Then silence
Every living cell
Life source
Lights blinding
Thunder rolling
Leaves falling
Hands holding
The deeper we travel
The further we go

  Feb 18  Rai
Mike Essig

Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.

Concrete instances of emptiness.
Blinds not drawn. Flowers do not arrive.
Bed made tight; no stilettos. Never sticky.
Doves alone coo. Pet names only for pets.
No need to shave. Last night's wine. One glass.
Coffee becomes erotic. Condo not condoms.
Hands and knees only to fix sink. No position.
No lipstick stains the staff. Lingerie a catalog.
Flag always at half mast. Sleep soft, not deep.
A cock is a chicken; a pussy is a cat.
Fingers seeking fondle find nothing.
Blowing your nose becomes PDA.
Ghostly hands caress vanished thighs.
All embraces are distant. Hugging your sister.
Mysteries of faded flesh; sound after sigh
Not a trace of perfume or personality.
The orgasmically charged what isn't.
What is missing prevails. What was is missing.


To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment