Let's create something simple,
Like the iambic pentameter
that made Shakespeare famous,
Let's create beauty,
in a world where it diminishes with every second,
that passes by.
I wish to be simplistically complex, and beautiful, and am then greeted by the realization,
that it won't happen until it is my belief that it is true,
And if that is the case, I am doomed.
For clocks don't stop and wait for realization.
And mirrors are still believed to crack in my presence.
What a pity.
There is a ubiquitous
that rests in the darker parts of my soul.
There is a fear so strong,
that it controls my thoughts.
It completely diminishes my capacity for
the negatives of my life,
have been pre exposed to the harsh rays of
too often to be developed now.
There is permanent damage,
never to be undone.
Damage that one can only become
So, I will live in fear.
I will live in fear of revealing
I will live in fear of feeling
I will live in fear of any person
that tries to touch my
I will live in fear of any person
that tries to sift through the
raging storms in my mind.
I will live in fear of any person that gets close
enough to touch.
I will live in
I will live with the reality of my destruction
I will live in
never to be rebuilt.
My heart races, erratically, lacking a proper rhythm.
A rhythm that could only be rendered by another heartbeat.
My soul soars frantically, searching for yours in a forlorn prison.
I strive on, praying, yearning, not ready to accept defeat.
I gaze into your eyes, longing for some sign of affection
I see nothing, because you feel nothing towards me.
I gave you my heart, trusting you to not break it, and you denied my attention.
Look at me now! I'm dead inside! What else could I possibly be!?
Twisted nightmares from the most morose parts of my mind start to form
I imagine that I am in a hospital bed, waiting for you to say farewell
You couldn't even say goodbye? Of course not, you have no desire to mourn.
My worthless love, absolutely useless to you. I'm alone, locked in this prison cell.
But I keep optimism in my heart, and I fathom that perhaps you'll realize
How much I truly loved you, and how much I sacrificed.
My pulse diminishes, my eyes start to close, at last, it's almost time to die.
How I longed to be yours! After my death, will you be satisfied?
Before I die, I glare at the doorway, my stomach full of knots, my vision is blurry.
I think of my scars, covering my body, each representing a time when you weren't there.
I promised I would wait, I'm giving you one last chance, please hurry.
But you never show. The machine flat lines, and you finally prove that you truly didn't care.
With each passing poem,
The degree of difficulty of diving ever higher,
Bar incrementally niched, inched, raised,
Domain, the association of words, ever lesser,
Repetition verboten, crime against pride.
You ask me when the words come:
With each passing year,
In the wee hours of
Ever diminishing time snatches,
The hours between midnight and rising,
Shrinkage, once six, now four hours,
Meant for for restoration,
Transpositional for creation,
Only one body notes the new mark,
The digital, numerical clock of
Trillion hour sleep deficit, most taxing.
Al, you ask me from where do the words come:
Each of the five senses compete,
Pick me, Pick me, they shout,
The eyes see the tall grasses
Framing the ferry's to and fro life.
Waving bye bye to the
End of day harbor activities,
Putting your babies to sleep.
The ears hear the boat horns
Deep voiced, demanding pay attention,
I am now docking, I am important,
The sound lingers, long after
They are no longer important.
The tongue tastes the cooling
Italian prosecco merging victoriously
With its ally, the modestly warming rays
Of a September setting sun,
finally declaring, without stuttering,
Peace on Earth.
The odoriferous bay breezes,
A new for that second only smell,
But yet, very old bartender's recipe,
Salt, cooking oil, barbecue sauce, gasoline
And the winning new ingredient, freshly minted,
Stacked in ascending circumference order, onion rings.
These four senses all recombinant,
On the cheek, on the tongue,
Wafting, tickling, blasting, visioning
Merging into a single touch
That my pointer finger, by force majeure,
Declares, here, poem aborning,
Contract with this moment, now satisfied.
Al, what you did not ask was this:
With each passing poem,
I am lessened within, expurgated,
In a sense part of me, expunged,
Part of me, passing too,
Every poems birth diminishes me.
September 8th, 2012
Greenport Harbor, N.Y.
There's a saying which is popular in this world,
They say the feeling of love diminishes...
We also fight a lot of days in the beginning,
But I'm confident that our love won't abate..
And so we will win our own little world away,
Different from this world and uniquely sweet it'll be.
My HP Poem #215
There’s so much that doesn't make sense
Words, actions, places, events
All the meanings behind them
Lost in some sea
Where the water is murky and unclear
Witnessing the hurt and pain
Especially on your face
Where tears stream
My eyes become unfocused
And my heart clenches and breaks
At the sight
Ruining the beautiful night
Where the lights dance across the sky
The red glow of embers burn
The soft breeze that cools the skin
The warm glow I used to see within
Looking up at all the lights
All the shining sparks, electric to the dark veil
From a thousand miles away
They reach down
Touch your face
Light up your eyes
They give you life
What a sight
Beautiful to the night
All the words in the world couldn't describe
All the actions that take place
Could never accumulate
All the places in the world
Could never be right, could never fit this moment
Where the world seems perfect
As the lights take away your pain
All the hurt diminishes from your face
The anguish gone and the aw sets in
Showing you there is something
Out there…. reaching down
There is someone who knows
What you’re going through
And telling you, you aren't alone
Because one day, one day you’re going to be home
People disappearing from Vallarta like quicksand
Their existence unknown
Stagnant stories without faces or names
Invisible terrorists engulfing our streets
Swallowing energy, spirits, life
Bringing back memories from the past
Pangs of flashbacks circulate around me
My throat inflamed
I close my eyes and I picture you smiling
I shouldn't have screamed at you
We're dancing at my friend's wedding
I shouldn't have cursed your existence
We're walking towards the gates to Disneyland
I shouldn't have slammed the door in your face
We're driving in your Black Mustang
I should have answered the phone
Your smile diminishes
You let go of my hand
They take you away
I try to grab on to your voice
But they handcuff you and label you a criminal
They shove you in a van
I never see you again
I return to the present
The fear has already spread like a virus
The next victims are being shoved and taken to who knows where
People are asking if the raids are real
The stitches have never healed
People are asking what should be done
I begin to sob uncontrollably
I don't know how to answer their question
I always loved you and I always will
the flame of love
and its warmth
a union fused with affection
the parties in the relationship
lose that loving feeling
a void remains in their hearts
with a deep want for the flame
without a man or woman
at their side
waiting and hoping
for the warmth of love
to again reside
Just like love, just like how you know life
With your heart beating and your eyes big with wonder and awe
You want to feel each day slip away as you long to get closer to death
For death seems to be the only logical escape
The way you view the world, there is too much evil, too many horrible things going on
Not enough goodness, no justice
You long to possess the right to inform people about how mankind has managed to lose its soul and fervor to pain, hurt, evil
Evolving in all of the wrongs ways, developing all the wrong ideals
You try to say the words right, try to make them coherent
And at night you think and think
And in your mind, things look so little but so unattainable
You are a spirit of light
Your left hand longs to be held by another's right hand
Your face longs to be caressed, to be admired and remembered
You need some reason to keep on living
For on your own, you are just waiting for death to sweep you off your feet and take you away
It is the only thing that seems to feel right
The only thing that really makes sense to you
You choose to remain in your thoughts and in your head
For it is a good place to be
You can smile a new smile, take your hands and dig them deep within the sun and the moon
You can hold the universe and maybe even restore the hope that was once present and flourishing within you
But once you must leave your mind and your dreams and your thoughts
You slowly and begrudgingly come back to reality and your stomach falls to your feet as you hear the pangs of the outside world coming back alive inside of you
You ponder the concept of the word "home" and remember an old body that you used to seek safety in
Cold and dark tears contemplate falling and you wish to live in the sky, gone from the world, slipping away in your dreams, leaving behind the dreadful drone of your own existence
You ache to be left alone in your thoughts
Your mind travels back to the days that once consisted of innocence and simplicity
So alluring and true
Withholding pure and utter bliss
Now, so unattainable and distant
You try to stop your mind from traveling further but you think about the person you used to be, the girl you once knew
Her lips are now forever gasping for more and more air and the feeling of fear is hard and sharp in her heart that is broken beyond repair
You long for better days, for better things to come to you
But there is something dark and black that rests deep within you and you cannot live a moment without noticing its lurking presence
You long to be free of it
But death is so far away and sleep is only temporary
Your eyes are open but there's a path behind them compiled of pasts years that you continuously walk day after day after day
And they don't taste sweet and your breath is trapped within you, making it seem as if blood tastes better than this
And once again, death and truth seem attainable but so very, very out of reach
The weather is gloomy and rain is falling from the clouds above
You stand and let the rain kiss every inch of your warm and tingling flesh and you feel happy as you turn with the wind and taste the raindrops on your lips
Your heart is red with fire and warmth, beating graciously as you believe each and every raindrop is a healing kiss to your troubled and aching soul
Times of hate and despair trickle down your body with the rain and you feel both dead and alive all at once, waiting for something other than hurt and emptiness to be your dearest friend, waiting for the loneliness that swims through your veins to go looking for someone else to invade with its poisonous ways
The rain is trying to help but the loneliness was there before the rain ever existed and it cannot die inside of you
For it is very much alive as it stands in the room behind your ribcage, holding out its arms, loudening its voice today and every day, this morning and every morning, until it is eventually noticed tonight and every night
With its feet imbedded to the floor of your body and your bones, forever attempting to taint the beauty of your soul
You try to forget, but instead you understand
You lay in bed and it all feels so real as you look desperately to the stars
The same stars you have been looking to and wishing on ever since you were a small child
And you recall the first time you ever saw a star, still so full of innocence and ambition and wonder
But innocence isn't a permanent friend like loneliness which lies at the door to your heart
Innocence is forced to change its shape until it disintegrates all together
Just as you have sat and watched the stars for all these years, you sat and watched your innocence slowly fade away with age and the progression of life and time
Then comes the wonder of the beloved memories when you still possessed that innocence and its hurts and everything seems lonely once more
So you write as you look to the moon and the earth and the song they sing each night
And even though you have grown accustomed to the darkness
You are sure it was once was something that took too frequently and took too soon until it became a friend instead of an enemy
Because what other choice did you have other than to form an alliance with it?
And soon enough the words flowed from your fingers and nothing mattered as long as you could write and feel something, whether it was the pain from under a razor blade or the earth beneath your feet or the taste of wine on your tongue
It was still something
Oh little miss silence, the quiet and unnoticed observer
Seen by no one, your head high in the clouds as you continuously demand the reason for why you are living
You lay and wait for the great and warm sea to scoop you up and break you apart until you are nothing but particles floating about, forming other unknown entities
But people lie and we are all terrible human beings
Spiteful and cold
Although you have always felt different from the rest, small and everything less than perfect
Always thinking thoroughly, slowly, deeply
Always acting as a caretaker to others and their wants, and needs, and feelings
You discovered at a very young age that helping others makes your heart dance and that fighting for those who are in need is of utmost importance
You always speak so softly because your efforts are never enough to change anyone or anything
You are kind when others are mean, strong when others are weak
Every single night you lay your head down to sleep and pray and pray for better things and better people to reign, just as you did every single night as a child
But things get harder as youth diminishes
And once it finally leaves, you find that you are the person you'd never thought you'd become
And knowing that is extremely painful
It is a constant, stabbing feeling
You look for peace, talk of it, listen for it
Longing to make your insides bright again
Searching for a reason to keep on living
But your mouth is locked shut and you hide with the trees and hold dear true laughter and listen to the music in everything as you see reality through one set of eyes, and the world within your mind, through another
You feel sorry as you look for some person or some place to build a home
And you long to grow with the trees that will rest beside it and to float with the clouds that will rest above it
A world to live and breathe comfortably in is all that you long for
But you are living in hell as this world is the farthest thing from comfortable
You lay beneath the sky and ache and ache as you listen to the voices that sing above you
And you feel apart from everything and the sad feelings surface once more and you try and try to escape but instead more things wake inside of you and walls build up and around you until your story is just another poem you will write in the future
You watch the tree from your window and try to remember what you felt like before you lost everything
Hope swallowed after your words,
Splashing around in the ocean,
Light barely found in a few drops,
Extinguished by your water.
Each drop received is another lost,
None survive with each new thought,
Light again diminishes,
When A wave comes crashing down.
The sand will not accept,
The land will not receive,
None will want a little light,
That drowned out in the sea.
The more listening done,
The more dim the light will be,
No word will regain a spark,
That was already dead at sea.