Sometimes life presents challenges,
which at the time may seem small,
but instead, appear insurmountable.
Finding true love is one of the hardest
tasks that humankind, as a whole, faces.
Many see love as pure fantasy,
reciprocal, requited, and unconditional,
as true love is meant to be.
This kind of love brings contentment,
and internal peace, which can be unlike
any euphoria you have ever felt.
This love intoxicates and exhilarates.
It will lift you higher
than the tallest mountain,
and make you feel fuller
than the deepest ocean.
This love will make you feel whole,
and complete, with the
joining together of two lost,
lonely souls, once wondering adrift.
in an union that fulfills.
But, for a select few, this ideal of fantasy is
more of a reality filled with heartache.
That same reality can bring us to our knees,
and the pain alone can smother us,
to the point of not being able to breathe.
Then comes the constant cycle of hurt,
emptiness, and anger, which draws us back
to the source which has caused such emotion.
It leaves us begging for the pain to stop;
sometimes making us yearn, to once again, be with
the one who has caused us to feel such turmoil.
It is an addiction unlike any other,
caused by the fear of being alone
and starting anew.
We now find ourselves
sacrificing our own self,
to maintain a sense of familiarity and safeness.
Not realizing, but instead blinded by memories,
that this reality is showing us that it
was just not meant to be.
It takes time to mend a broken heart;
time on our own, to discover our true self-worth;
time to realize that love will find us again.
We will encounter a struggle, unlike another,
to overcome our fears of distrust and vulnerability.
Many lessons will be learnt, along the way.
But, with strength and perseverance,
all of the time spent healing,
will open our heart to a brand new beginning, one day.
First, we must realize, that deep within our own self
lies the ashes of our once brilliantly burning heart.
Only with time, will our pain become manageable.
Yet, we will always wear
the scars of a love gone bad,
as an embattled soldier wears his own, from a war lost.
But, choosing to not allow this to consume oneself,
is a true challenge, in itself.
In the end, deciding when we have had enough,
is what will allow the reopening of our heart.
We must learn, to not allow the pain to truly hide
the one thing that lies right in front of us – opportunity.
Sometimes this opportunity,
is a new love, that is more fitting than the last.
A new love, one that will ease
the loneliness that
envelopes us like a blanket;
a new start with someone who can
love, respect, cherish,
and adore us,
more than any ghost of our past.
We all have the power to turn
our reality into fantasy.
However, never lose sight,
that even true love is not perfect,
and neither are we.
We all make mistakes; we will disappoint.
Not all of us will possess the means, or desire,
to hurt another on purpose.
It is the search for a soul, that mirrors our own,
which will be the hardest struggle.
This struggle can be won with one true fact -
not all people are alike.
Once we open our mind, and our heart, to this,
all fears and inhibitions will melt away,
as the sun melts the snow, in early Spring.
With this sign of rebirth,
our new love will be unlike
all we have experienced before.
But, we must never allow our past
to dictate our present,
which will ultimately decide our future.
We must find that power within ourselves,
to overcome the reality,
by embracing, and enjoying,
the new adventure, and path,
we are about to undertake.
Vicki A. Zinn
you’re surrounded by beautiful people,
scarlet lips that leave sticky marks on your skin.
i can only wonder if i’m
just another pretty face
one of those mornings
where I want to lay on the floor with my legs in the air
where I want to smoke cigarettes as skinny as arms
where I want to wear dark sunglasses that spell out
and these shades would allow me to be callous
and my apathy and I could make snide remarks
you little fucker
Boy, I hope you can smell my contempt over there.
You deserve it. But I don't really care anymore.
I don't dislike many people, but if I could do it,
I would tell you that I look upon your character
with the same adoration that I would hold for a
parasite-infested rotting mountain of rat feces.
Which is to say not a lot.
Which is to say I dislike you.
It's just one of those mornings,
where I want to stop knowing you, and wish you wouldn't know me.
where I want to do something, but you see, I can't feel a thing, for you.
I have nothing for you, really,
I am fresh out of fucks to give.
I don't regret anything since I learned a great deal.
I wouldn't say I was heartbroken, just exasperated
by your contrived and un-authentic dumbass-ery.
I am better than you.
I laugh when I remember that every morning.
The first person he'd met
that went round museums and art galleries
But it's simple:
I've never been comfortable
things I don't.
Sometimes art shits me.
And sometimes it hits me:
a photo print and words
laying out bare on the wall
in those particular
rural small town
store selling pies
and perhaps a pet shop.
...end of the world at the end of the world...
by a crumpled
$5 note in my hand
from ten or so
baby white mice
I'd just sold.
And so - someone else
had felt it too
(minus the mice)
and could help me
is rarely easy
but that doing so brings
That’s why art.
all these goddamn poets
thinking the universe has
anything to do with her eyes,
like the cosmos
have nothing better to do
than to watch your lust
bloat and wither.
(can't we just be human for once?)
Sometimes, at 3 AM in the morning
I lie awake and wonder about the unknown
Where would I be?
Who would I be with?
Would my children have their daddy's eyes?
Or would they have my madness?
And I wonder about all what could have been
But what I wonder about the most is..
Would I be happy?
Sometimes when I'm wide awake at 3 AM in the morning I just wonder
I built a Berlin Wall around my heart.
Not to keep others out,
but to keep myself in.
I built the walls higher
until no light could get in
and I stayed there.
I may have been alone
but at least I was safe.
Safe from you and your sugar coated words and electric touch.
Protected from the lies that seeped from between your lips,
and god, just your lips.
I kept myself away from your impish charm and devilish smile.
I had to,
I couldn’t let you in
Because when you broke me the first time
I could hardly manage
to pick up the fragments
and build them into something that at least resembled the girl I had been before.
A shell of what it was.
I added armour.
Heavy chainmail to keep me away from your beckoning embrace.
Was it worth it?
I’m not sure.
But the over flow of emotions
that I swam through every time I saw you
was drowning me.
So I built a raft and let it take me away.
I put myself here but now I’m trapped,
stuck in my own mind and stuck in my own heart.
It’s a terrible place to be.
you wouldn’t want to be here with me.
I don't drink because I like it,
I'm just giving CPR to my dreams.
Love means just being an idiot.
Friends come and go.
Work. Earn money. Keep on running
because you choose to exist.
Create art. - Vomit your feelings.
Who knows if there is God.
What comes after death?
Follow the rules.
Be unhappy. - You're living the life correctly.
I don't drink because I like it.
I'm just giving CPR to my dreams.
Somedays I feel crushed and broken......all those words unspoken....somedays the sun doesn't seem to shine.....and I stare at what I've left behind.....somedays the clouds hang low....and laughter comes so slow....somedays the world bears down on me....and I collapse under the tragedy...I struggle with sadness too...is it ever like that for you...or all we are is just souls alone...can you help me...I'm looking for place...I think it's called home
Toby Wilmont Hollingford
Wears his socks upon his head,
And will not relent to
Put his socks away.
Toby says his ears are cold,
And will not do as he's been told.
So afraid he'll catch a
Death of cold today.
Toby wears socks on his head,
And he wears socks on his feet.
He will even wear them on his nose
As he's walking down the street.
'Germs are everywhere, ' says he,
'And I'll not let them get to me.
I am one of a kind,
And I'm almost unique.
Germs won't get
The best of me!"
But his Mother did not agree,
'Toby, please take
Those socks off
They are dreadful.
They are filthy.
And they smell.'
But Toby felt the winter chill,
And perched upon the window sill,
Said, ' But they fit me
So very, very well.'
Toby dressed himself quite well,
Rather well for May,
With socks protecting every hand
He took with him today.
He wore two socks on
His two feet,
And two socks on
For the wind outside had
That biting chill
That penguins all
He stepped outside
To test the cool,
And the coldness made
And he breathed the frost
That nipped him
Just as winter
Serenely, and with a
Nod of the head
And went back inside,
'It's cold out there,
Far, far too cold
To justify this action.
My knees, they tremble,
My elbows hurt,
And my shoes
Haven't the traction
To make it to the mailbox,
Oh, I've dared the
And it's dismal, Mom.
I give up.
But at least
Copyright © 2010 Richard D. Remler
"Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its pupils ..."
- Louis Hector Berlioz