Creation
A brief, fleeting high
Word to page
Image to canvas
Filling a void in the world
When I'd rather fill it in myself
To create, I exist
If creation forms,
Then so must its creator
I am real only when my hands
Are put to work
Praise,
Acknowledgement,
To be seen not for what I am
But for what I make
Is the sweetest of deceptions
I am known, without being known
By what creations I bring into the world
The self is fictitious,
If only seen through one's fictions
I chase the joys of making,
Forming,
Breathing life into formless idea,
But fear dutifully follows joy
If what is made by my hands
Is found lacking,
Then shall I?
Where does the self begin,
And the creation end?
Aug 15, 2020
Aug 15, 2020 at 8:21 PM UTC
having the last word
is rarely as sweet as they say
what is seen as triumph
goes out with a wheeze
no ends are tied
no resolutions reached
not even a goodbye
unfathomable that it will be
the last you hear from me
a limp excuse
of a parting gift
many poems written
in honor of you
meaning nothing now
unable to speak again
separation so quick
painless and agonizing
nary a farewell
a question
an answer
“alright, thank you”
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 6:42 PM UTC
butterfly ***** have
a greater influence on the world
then any desperate attempt i make
the universe blinked
when i was born
the future on the horizon
grows ever smaller
soon, i will be forgotten
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
so sweet are your words
that a stranger may believe
you’re speaking from a script
cliche as it may be
one could say
that we were stolen from a movie
__________
your clothes on my back
warm around me
not your arms
but enough
for now
__________
texts, phone calls
pale to your presence
the ghosting feeling
of your lips
is on my mind
whenever i see your name
on that small screen
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
climbing
climbing
climbing
up or down?
falling?
falling?
falling?
endless, always moving
darkness
blinding darkness
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
You are the most talented cutpurse I know
For before I even knew it
My thoughts and heart belonged to you
But what makes you the best thief of all
Is that they were given so willingly
I barely recall a time when they were mine
To complete your rapscallion’s repertoire
Whatever locks once grasped upon my heart
You picked with ease and without a second thought
It’s contents laid bare to you
But a Robin Hood you are
You returned what you found to me
So we may share
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 1:36 AM UTC
loneliness is a tricky foe
as much as you fear it
you are sad to see it go
because it makes known to you
there is no one beside it
who is always there
a constant companion
none more safe nor true
stability is admirable
desirable
but debihilating in the wrong hands
and pervasive loneliness
is a notorious abuser
thumping and pounding heart
terror at the thought of the unknown
to leave behind the partner of mine
who has seen me through it all
to move on is to shine
to move ahead is to dread
hand outstretched to hold mine
am i worthy of a finger interlace
when i lagged behind so willingly?
a question answered for me
by a grip on me so tight
what felt wrong was now right
friends of many years
both bad and good
are as hard to lose
when we walk side by side
between us still strolls that lonely phantom
but the distance closes ever surely
one day my path will be my own
if you will be there to see it
i cannot say
but it is clear
that my way was paved by you
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 2:57 AM UTC
A wall is a canvas
For my twisted thoughts to paint themselves
Into scenes of misery
As I lie there, staring blankly
I’m an artist
Painting portraits of depression
In the emptiness of my mind
Words find it in themselves to float around
In the empty plain of my head
Weaving stories of guilt and sorrow
In my mind I write epics,
Telling the tale of my own demise
An Odyssey, and I an Odysseus
But destined never to reach safe shore
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
I am a nothing
Merely a wisp in the void
A voice in the wind
Formless and ghostly
What worth can I truly claim
Empty hollow air
Pain or happiness
I am desperate to feel
Apathy is worse
With kindness and love
I am unduly blessed
Ingrate that I am
So vain to deny
Care so oft given to me
Truly a poor fool
Life is very odd
Giving precious gifts to those
Who least deserve them
Mystery it is
But it is not mine to solve
Only to lament
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Before me lies darkness beyond compare
An abyssal space, no end in sight
Yet before the pain I can no longer bear
To my eyes arrives a light
Without a form, a concept born of air
It’s outstretched hand I grab, and very tight
For me, this saviour is so rare
I must hold on with all my might
A person? ‘Tis is a title many share
For so long so wrong, now so right
A shroud of misery is no longer what I wear
My change so strong, I could take flight
Though slips into gloom and doom are not so rare
This life of mine is no longer eternal night
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC