wet streets after the rain
wet thoughts after the lingering
she cavorts in your limbs like a animal unleashed
like a army of fingers seeking to overthrow
like a thought seeking to master
she stumbles on the doorstep
of seeing
hesitates at the verge of meeting the other
half of her own need
leaving herself empty
leaving herself incomplete
leaving the taste on her lips but no meat to the bone
leaving visions of soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight
rain is
the sound
the face in the dark room
the surrender of the primal need to speak
any words that are not capitulation
not redaction of proud sworn oath
she lingers in the mornings bathroom
grazing at the edge of a farmland
places where such dreams are grown
but she dare not partake
she cannot think she would suffice
leaving a soul formed in stone
unable to move beyond
cold in the sunlight
a poignant symbol
an emblem of meaningless loss
(part 3)
rain
and the thoughts
i can break free and spill to the page
like lesser beasts escaping the wood on fire
and i see the time rapidly growing thin
a starving creature
the hours flee
room to room
crying out that doom draws near
rain
and its wet touch chills more than skin
it brings rancid thought to breaking open
and spreading across
the once sweet fruit
and within that moment
rain frees me from feeling
all the things that i drowning in
fills me
slow with blue waters
slows the race
fills me
slower with memory
rain
the thoughts that escape me now
are tempered
by the blade of waters burning touch
rain
glowing on the the seeking bones marrow
growing on the feeding of this hunger
it vaults into the stars
and its quickening heartbeat
forces free more than words emotion begins to follow
like the priests coming to worship at the temple of death
they bring life to face itself in its endings
words new to my eye spill forth
rain
like bright diamonds like tears
rain rain
rain
In a bus built for two.
Long days with not a thing to do.
Just you and I happy as could be.
Not a thing to do; Not a thing to see.
And we could be so very happy.
With everything we'd be leaving behind.
Just a disappearance overnight.
Too a world much different than our own.
A world without war
A world without poverty.
A world of long days on the couch.
A world with stupid tv shows.
A world where we could be happy.
She told me to let her go.
Her son told me that I wasn't good enough.
And that he was leaving too.
I'm still not alone.
But now I fall into my own shadow.
In the grave, I'm truly and completely alone.
I came across a drummer in an open glade
And sat before him to listen for a while;
The beats he played shimmered in the leaves
Causing my spirit to dance in the breeze,
While he closed his eyes to sing his song
And lifted his head to the clear blue sky.
Somehow I found myself doing the same
And in the space between us, my questions came -
Answered by the rhythms in the wind among the trees.
“Tell me, what do the drums speak of?” I whispered to the wind.
“They speak of the mountains, as solid as the earth,
Giving life to clouds and a course for rivers;
They have lasted longer than the oldest buildings,
Yet they must also one day perish -
Without the mountains, there can be no drums.”
“And tell me, what does the rhythm speak of?”
“It speaks of the river that has always flowed, is flowing still,
bringing water to crops and life to the breeze;
Sometimes a torrent and sometimes a brook,
It, too, must one day dissolve in the ocean -
Without the river, there can be no rhythm.”
“And tell me please, what is it that your song speaks of?”
“It speaks of the wind that gives flight to birds and breath to trees,
Heralding the transit of tides and relief from the heat;
Destruction and power dispensed in equal measure -
Unseen by all, yet when my song is gone,
Only the wind will remain.”
And at that moment the drumming stopped,
Like the sound of falling stones;
We lowered our heads, opened our eyes,
And the drummer flashed a dazzling smile,
As bright as the harvest moon.
Then we returned our gaze to the clear blue sky,
Bordered by mountains and trees,
And I could still hear the rhythm of the endless river
Flowing in the breeze.
I looked down once more only to find that the drummer had disappeared,
Leaving in his invisible wake the fluttering of soft Autumn leaves;
And I remained alone in that open glade, perched upon mountains,
Following the river in it’s course through the trees -
While the wind within me whispered:
“So it goes”
I always pictured this one girl
I drew her out to have this gentle twirl
She would have long brown hair
Running down her back, so fair
She would have pale white skin
One hundred and one hair pins
She would wear the prettiest yellow dress
And she would be perfect for me
But she would tease you with what you could only see
She whispered funny things in your ear
You’re the only one who could hear
While we spend these times in your car
Everything parked and night afar
She would have these lovely curls
Wearing these hidden white pearls
She was what I could only imagine
The thought of her was my one true passion
We would run around with these engaged hands
And land at the beach into these old sands
You said to me, “Stop thinking of me, silly”
I never known what she meant
Until it came to me sent
She kneeled next to me
Gave me this long lasting sad smile with her perfect green eyes
Giving me these last sighs
“You’ll be happy one day, just wait a little longer”
I never had to make such a long ponder
My yellow dress girl vanished from me
Leaving me all alone with this open sea
Those last words took a great toll
Feeling like I was falling down this hole
All my love is genuine
Just love for me is in this pen
I write all these love poems
Hundreds of words for you my dear
I never meant to be so unclear
It’s true I lost you when I needed you the most
Creating these thoughts to stay as my mind host
Distracting these retired emotions
Setting these feelings with inventive motions
Erasing that flower dancing yellow dress
I will not be your tossed away mess
I've always cared for you my sweetheart
I’m just sorry that I broke your gentle heart
This is for a girl.
Flick.
The flame quivers and burns.
The skin sizzles.
I am left with a mark.
beautiful.
it fades
and drifts.
Like everything else.
leaving me with one message,
"Just passing through."
I wish it would stay
so the world will not be fooled
by the mask I sometimes wear.
As I look over at my sister,
and I remember what I can of the things done to us,
I wish she would just accept it.
We will live and die young,
we were made to suffer.
We are the fire that burns down your childhood home.
We are the car that kills your dog.
Vomit, bile, and rust.
We are the trash in the dumpster.
Walking natural disasters.
At least I'm honest about it.
“I guess she wanted a real life or something
I don’t know”
Spoken by a grown man in his middle years in reference to a woman leaving her husband. As if the desire for a “real life” were such an absurdity. How profound this world is becoming in its mundanity. Profound mundanity. Deranged normality. Oxymoron’s galore my friends.
i wasn't lying
the weeping and wailing started weeks ago
what i didn't predict was the writhing
literal kicks of frustration
i've never been more serious
more foolish
more desperate
more liquid
what have you unleashed, you madman?
clearly, it's all your fault for starting this
nudging me right out
of fucking rotation with the sun
i didn't know this other shit was out here!
it's dark...and deep...and consuming
and i want to
f
a
l
l
you come and
obliterate
useless, dead cells from my brain
you return
and
electrify
stealing my oxygen
warping my perception
leaving me breathless
and high as a goddamn kite
and again you come
prowling like a lion
growling
biting
leading
sweet mother of god
and again
and again
you son of a bitch!
leaving me with these memories...
most others i throw away
but these...
i have posted guards
i have reinforced with steel
and song
and repetition
these WILL stay
i'm sure i was but a fly
buzzing around
i can see you swatting
irritated
already forgotten
well, my friend
that was not nice...
to knock me out of rotation
pull me into new space
then pick me up
and firmly plant me back
into the boring old stupid rotation
like nothing ever happened
because of you
i have to forcibly regulate my heartbeat
multiple times a day
these words, for christ's sake
they will not stop
the moment i let them go
i feel others loosely forming
i see glimpses
but there is no respite from this madness
why have you cast a spell on me?
for the love of the light, why do you move like you do?
you know damn well nothing else will suffice
you unleashed a wildness
that will not be contained
i guess i better just
batten down the hatches
with my pen and paper
it's gonna be a long night.
(5/20/13)
It is a lucky man who gets to hold her hand
As she takes you far beyond the Promised Land
She will take you on a trip that you’ve never been before
As she opens up every door.
She will take you through the doors of dreams
The doors of hope, and teach you how to cope.
She will let you peak in doors of anger, doors of fear
But will not allow you to get too near.
She will hold your hand tightly as she shows you the door
Of poverty, hunger, hate, so you can see before it’s too late.
As these doors look alike, this will leave you lost and confused
And in your lifetime, these same doors you will choose.
Although there are two doors which are different from all the rest
These two doors you will test.
One is decorated with hearts, rainbows, and butterflies
In this door true love lies.
This is the door where you may meet your soul mate
If you do not hesitate.
For love can come in a flash or slowly enter your soul
Leaving you happy, leaving you whole.
Erase all doubts – for love is there
If you open your heart and are willing to share.
The last door that you will see is a double door adorned with silver and gold
And the sounds of the most beautiful music of every instrument known to man
And beyond these doors “THERE HE STANDS”
Surrounded by angels with their pure white wings
Showing you the most precious gift anyone could bring.
“THE LOVE OF GOD”
His love so infinite, so pure, so white, which fills you
With the ultimate delight.
It is all the riches of the earth all rolled into one
For he is “GODS SON”.
He has been known by different names
But through Christianity the name “JESUS” reigns.
His love like the rains that come from the skies
Like the sun that blinds your eyes, and like the stars
That fills the universe, and the moon that brightens up the darkest night
All his love is in plain sight.
Now as I look down at her holding my hand, now is when I fully understand
He is with us from beginning to end – he is my GOD, my FATHER, and my FRIEND.
He is my strength when I am weak; he is the power that we seek.
So then! WHO IS THIS WOMAN THAT IS HOLDING MY HAND?
And making me understand!
She is like any mother protecting her child
She is the mother of “JESUS” who has been with us for quite a while.
Thank you “ MOTHER MARY”.
© L.RAMS
Sing to me
I need to know the feeling of relief
For in the cellar of my thoughts
I only know the horrors I have fought.
What my memory seeks to release
Is beyond what you know
But it won't leave me to peace
It won't let me go.
Until catharsis has reached
It's great release,
These replays berate and shake my mind
Flashing images of much darker times.
I had never lost so much.
Not for the penalty of trust.
Months of silence are now laid to waste
Forever leaving a bitter aftertaste
These images are like fire to my mind
Undoubtedly the aftermath of that awful April night.
