phillip-knight - Hello Poetry

I caught a solar flare It tore somewhere between your words And my impending despair You see I was taught to watch the world in three dimensions To view life in bold colour Yet sometimes All I need are your black and white letters upon a flat page I was the only challenge I really needed It was you who told me; I didn't have to be what they want. I saw a star burst behind that flare, Its silent explosion was beautiful within its destruction And I questioned whether life ended there; Or whether it was creation. It turns out that I am lost without you. There was an astronaut ...I believe Caught between the flare and his own implosion on the outskirts of the explosion. I watched him disintegrate, His dust formed its own miniature universe And when everything settled down He was still there. I thought about you As the stardust in my eyes As the droplets of ink As the correlation of all the far reaches We are three dimensional. We are colour Riding the cusp of a solar flare On the verge of destruction Yet, At the birth of creation. We are the stardust that lingers in the eyes of life. I fail to see any other reality than us.

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Jan 28, 2017

Jan 28, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC

Galaxy

I caught a solar flare It tore somewhere between your words And my impending despair You see I was taught to watch the world in three dimensions To view life in bold colour Yet sometimes All I need are your black and white letters upon a flat page I was the only challenge I really needed It was you who told me; I didn't have to be what they want. I saw a star burst behind that flare, Its silent explosion was beautiful within its destruction And I questioned whether life ended there; Or whether it was creation. It turns out that I am lost without you. There was an astronaut ...I believe Caught between the flare and his own implosion on the outskirts of the explosion. I watched him disintegrate, His dust formed its own miniature universe And when everything settled down He was still there. I thought about you As the stardust in my eyes As the droplets of ink As the correlation of all the far reaches We are three dimensional. We are colour Riding the cusp of a solar flare On the verge of destruction Yet, At the birth of creation. We are the stardust that lingers in the eyes of life. I fail to see any other reality than us.

34

Hovering finger Unsteady upon its own button. The shake of daily grind Brings it closer. No more steadying sensibilities The last voice has filled an overcrowded head And with a final sigh We hit self destruct

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Oct 18, 2016

Oct 18, 2016 at 6:58 AM UTC

Red Button

Hovering finger Unsteady upon its own button. The shake of daily grind Brings it closer. No more steadying sensibilities The last voice has filled an overcrowded head And with a final sigh We hit self destruct

8

I thought; ….. In moments of hope There was something special in the root of my psyche. (There was no inspiration left) When eyes closed and hearts shut down And my body became lost to the wrap of choking scarves For migration into blank canvas months I ceased to exist. I was the death of character Homeless A beautiful flower deserted in a dead field When. I became. Alone. For was my desolation the finding of my solace? Or merely the comfort of my own depression Self-centred. Abandoning. No more need for niceties. Chained to a vinyl that spun with a process of blurred vision Beaten skin Bruised ego Was the last verse of the last song written solely for me If I play it backwards Would I hear my name Repeated Slowly. Calmly. I thought there was something special in my psyche The ability to help The strength for others. Yet as my head hangs low I see only my silent soul

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Oct 11, 2016

Oct 11, 2016 at 5:42 AM UTC

Childhood Memories

I thought; ….. In moments of hope There was something special in the root of my psyche. (There was no inspiration left) When eyes closed and hearts shut down And my body became lost to the wrap of choking scarves For migration into blank canvas months I ceased to exist. I was the death of character Homeless A beautiful flower deserted in a dead field When. I became. Alone. For was my desolation the finding of my solace? Or merely the comfort of my own depression Self-centred. Abandoning. No more need for niceties. Chained to a vinyl that spun with a process of blurred vision Beaten skin Bruised ego Was the last verse of the last song written solely for me If I play it backwards Would I hear my name Repeated Slowly. Calmly. I thought there was something special in my psyche The ability to help The strength for others. Yet as my head hangs low I see only my silent soul

33

I stood in the night Single cigarette sizzling towards the tremble of my fingers I miss you. Stars dance in the haze of teared eyes As the moth flirts in the amber hum of a distant street light. I focus on its centralised nebula Its burst of heated shades, its distant sun beams. Looking down upon the single star in my hand. This is where I would pass to you, for the final breath. Yet you are only in the stars. Within a sky we have prayed towards so many times. I love you. For even without you, You are forever within me.

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Oct 9, 2016

Oct 9, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC

Untitled #3

I stood in the night Single cigarette sizzling towards the tremble of my fingers I miss you. Stars dance in the haze of teared eyes As the moth flirts in the amber hum of a distant street light. I focus on its centralised nebula Its burst of heated shades, its distant sun beams. Looking down upon the single star in my hand. This is where I would pass to you, for the final breath. Yet you are only in the stars. Within a sky we have prayed towards so many times. I love you. For even without you, You are forever within me.

14

Scattered cracked black pepper The Remnants of a final meal Lie as ashen memories of taste Lurking reminders of that which has been Transferred from cheep china to the lips of a lover Upon the cusp of a final goodbye The lingering heat left only to serve as a slate to clean. How every bite savoured a crunch of hope Leaving room only for reality A dessert that cannot be stomached falsified sweetness to not be considered 'the finer things' When taste has changed to exotic flavouring Fork etchings and caveman paintings in sweet chilli; Timeline a love that can not be erased It seeps into the cracks of tomorrow's aftertaste Surrounding the words upon which exhaled breath proclaims I miss you. In silence as the sound of a solitary bowl creates no further filling nor satisfaction Last nights plates remain within the cupboard The flavour of every meal they have ever seen remain It is their history Whatever the future may be

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Oct 6, 2016

Oct 6, 2016 at 1:37 PM UTC

The Last Meal

Scattered cracked black pepper The Remnants of a final meal Lie as ashen memories of taste Lurking reminders of that which has been Transferred from cheep china to the lips of a lover Upon the cusp of a final goodbye The lingering heat left only to serve as a slate to clean. How every bite savoured a crunch of hope Leaving room only for reality A dessert that cannot be stomached falsified sweetness to not be considered 'the finer things' When taste has changed to exotic flavouring Fork etchings and caveman paintings in sweet chilli; Timeline a love that can not be erased It seeps into the cracks of tomorrow's aftertaste Surrounding the words upon which exhaled breath proclaims I miss you. In silence as the sound of a solitary bowl creates no further filling nor satisfaction Last nights plates remain within the cupboard The flavour of every meal they have ever seen remain It is their history Whatever the future may be

22

As the last flick switches electric hum in to silence Stealing light from the darkened day I lie blinded and deafened to my own excuse for escape Under a barren blanket I see only a singular image A solitary thought You, and the repeating words I miss you, I love you I miss you, I love you Wherever you go You never leave my head

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Oct 3, 2016

Oct 3, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC

Untitled #2

As the last flick switches electric hum in to silence Stealing light from the darkened day I lie blinded and deafened to my own excuse for escape Under a barren blanket I see only a singular image A solitary thought You, and the repeating words I miss you, I love you I miss you, I love you Wherever you go You never leave my head

11

We were the cusp of devastation The bellicose swell of encroaching emotional tides The slaves bound by opposing grip Sealed within our very silence With screaming eyes Layered in film ripples, reflected responses walking in reverse to the natural pull of the tilting magnetism The earth turning in anti-advancement As history repeats to a murmur of distant hope. I stripped to the bone for you Tore shackles and shame from its death grip Left to choke within a brooding storm of love It was reckless abandonment Orphaning myself from the last leap of faith As I laid waste to unresolved anti-satisfaction As we clashed As we ripped at each other As we broke the final glass ceiling with our thrown stones Jagged words sharpened into hidden shivs The destruction was beautiful It was the meteorites that fell from the fire sky It was the crackle of simmering embers in the morning A reminder that there was still a spark left That within the gentle curls of smoke There was oxygen that breathed, even when I stopped Yet I was lying Lying for the sake of memory Lying to myself And lying to you. I was the pressure pit of a filling gas canister And you were the loose connection Bound to my poison Powerful upon your weakened state And presidential within your collapsing city walls You needed me Because I told you so I needed no one That is why I both loved you And loathed you The reminder of my broken home I as the shadow of my father Looming over you Puppeteering my wrist Striking you as the wash against cliff face Cleansing my history within its repeat The devastation was beautiful You were beautiful Until I destroyed you And punished you for letting me. There's never been a moment That I haven't looked upon you with sympathy Pity And somewhere Somewhere inside I know I shall eventually let you breathe When the ocean calms And the rocks are nothing more than sand When the fresh footing of another feels you between their fingers When your castle walls are built in firmer moulds When the moon pulls me away When the magnetism of emulation no longer holds me within its anger Maybe I will say sorry Maybe nothing at all. Just watch you Watch you walk away. The day I realise I will always love you; It will be the reason I set you free.

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Sep 27, 2016

Sep 27, 2016 at 6:00 AM UTC

Shadow

We were the cusp of devastation The bellicose swell of encroaching emotional tides The slaves bound by opposing grip Sealed within our very silence With screaming eyes Layered in film ripples, reflected responses walking in reverse to the natural pull of the tilting magnetism The earth turning in anti-advancement As history repeats to a murmur of distant hope. I stripped to the bone for you Tore shackles and shame from its death grip Left to choke within a brooding storm of love It was reckless abandonment Orphaning myself from the last leap of faith As I laid waste to unresolved anti-satisfaction As we clashed As we ripped at each other As we broke the final glass ceiling with our thrown stones Jagged words sharpened into hidden shivs The destruction was beautiful It was the meteorites that fell from the fire sky It was the crackle of simmering embers in the morning A reminder that there was still a spark left That within the gentle curls of smoke There was oxygen that breathed, even when I stopped Yet I was lying Lying for the sake of memory Lying to myself And lying to you. I was the pressure pit of a filling gas canister And you were the loose connection Bound to my poison Powerful upon your weakened state And presidential within your collapsing city walls You needed me Because I told you so I needed no one That is why I both loved you And loathed you The reminder of my broken home I as the shadow of my father Looming over you Puppeteering my wrist Striking you as the wash against cliff face Cleansing my history within its repeat The devastation was beautiful You were beautiful Until I destroyed you And punished you for letting me. There's never been a moment That I haven't looked upon you with sympathy Pity And somewhere Somewhere inside I know I shall eventually let you breathe When the ocean calms And the rocks are nothing more than sand When the fresh footing of another feels you between their fingers When your castle walls are built in firmer moulds When the moon pulls me away When the magnetism of emulation no longer holds me within its anger Maybe I will say sorry Maybe nothing at all. Just watch you Watch you walk away. The day I realise I will always love you; It will be the reason I set you free.

68

Why do I sometimes feel so lost When even at my kitchen table I no longer recognise the walls decorated in history. Sometimes I curse the music that ricochets from amp to ear For it cannot drown out the sound of my own head As we sit in an internal silent battle The voice stirs its last cackle Its witches brew of smouldering self doubt When did I start to put so much pressure on myself? Was it before or after I lost all confidence. Am I the reason for my own demise Or the only one who sees me for who I am Why are some days different Why.

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Sep 26, 2016

Sep 26, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC

Untitled #1

Why do I sometimes feel so lost When even at my kitchen table I no longer recognise the walls decorated in history. Sometimes I curse the music that ricochets from amp to ear For it cannot drown out the sound of my own head As we sit in an internal silent battle The voice stirs its last cackle Its witches brew of smouldering self doubt When did I start to put so much pressure on myself? Was it before or after I lost all confidence. Am I the reason for my own demise Or the only one who sees me for who I am Why are some days different Why.

13

It is everywhere The shadows of stretching retching black fabric Covering the bones and eyeing the sorrow growing It is disease and distress, at frayed edging Cloaking, grim reaper standing Lusting after the healthy Its shadow stalking in the happiest memories A midnight watcher, the anti-hero The detective, detecting from inside the mirror glass eyes Under the hood, behind the shutter, waiting for, surprise I am but a bed ridden snippet of life Found in carnal knowledge, lost in shadow and shameful abandonment And when the world calls time He has found me The figure The shadow The stalker Creeping, showing over my bed Fingers reaching and creating upon my body A spiders web, of patchwork skin and slithering rivers of meandering memory (exhale) Silhouetted figure, not unlike A Film noir platform hanger I can almost see the footsteps in the clouded smoke, arousing from the tracks Hair that swings like a curtain call on a show ending A chance for reminiscing Too late, in memory, this shan't happen Is regret all that is left, at the end of this disparaging journey Over cloaked, and choked, with the thinnest of thread veiling my eyes Lined up with your cries I no longer see you, for it is spirit that keeps my smile Not the attempts at keeping good humour that ricochet from wall to wall The verbal game of squash, and I do not need to know what the world is wanting for dinner I just need the satisfaction of completing an unfinished thought. Breathing, keep breathing I am blackened, no longer in breath The midnight watcher, stalker Retrieved the soul, of another Black curtain, descending The play, now ending

0

Sep 23, 2016

Sep 23, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC

Poem Noir

It is everywhere The shadows of stretching retching black fabric Covering the bones and eyeing the sorrow growing It is disease and distress, at frayed edging Cloaking, grim reaper standing Lusting after the healthy Its shadow stalking in the happiest memories A midnight watcher, the anti-hero The detective, detecting from inside the mirror glass eyes Under the hood, behind the shutter, waiting for, surprise I am but a bed ridden snippet of life Found in carnal knowledge, lost in shadow and shameful abandonment And when the world calls time He has found me The figure The shadow The stalker Creeping, showing over my bed Fingers reaching and creating upon my body A spiders web, of patchwork skin and slithering rivers of meandering memory (exhale) Silhouetted figure, not unlike A Film noir platform hanger I can almost see the footsteps in the clouded smoke, arousing from the tracks Hair that swings like a curtain call on a show ending A chance for reminiscing Too late, in memory, this shan't happen Is regret all that is left, at the end of this disparaging journey Over cloaked, and choked, with the thinnest of thread veiling my eyes Lined up with your cries I no longer see you, for it is spirit that keeps my smile Not the attempts at keeping good humour that ricochet from wall to wall The verbal game of squash, and I do not need to know what the world is wanting for dinner I just need the satisfaction of completing an unfinished thought. Breathing, keep breathing I am blackened, no longer in breath The midnight watcher, stalker Retrieved the soul, of another Black curtain, descending The play, now ending

40

The second I spoke I heard myself through the look in your eyes When did I become so distant That I am now the self-centred attraction of your pupil’s reflection No more do I see the interchanging colours The door to your soul Where I am And you are And we are Through Not so long ago you held me close A comfort blanket for your woes Though when did I become so rough That you choose to wriggle and wrench from out my arms No more mutual embrace Body connectives Now I am And you are And we are Through Speak to me in silence When tone of death stare is enough to remind me of the jobs I should have done When did we become so lazy That we allowed spoken sentiment to dry up Replaced by quips and sarcasm Communicating only That I am And you are And we are Through Yes I am through with second guessing emotion And you are through with needy wanting We are through with petty squabbling We are through with dry expression I am through with you Just as you are through with me However we, most importantly Are finally through with ‘we’

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Sep 23, 2016

Sep 23, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC

I Am, You Are, We Are

The second I spoke I heard myself through the look in your eyes When did I become so distant That I am now the self-centred attraction of your pupil’s reflection No more do I see the interchanging colours The door to your soul Where I am And you are And we are Through Not so long ago you held me close A comfort blanket for your woes Though when did I become so rough That you choose to wriggle and wrench from out my arms No more mutual embrace Body connectives Now I am And you are And we are Through Speak to me in silence When tone of death stare is enough to remind me of the jobs I should have done When did we become so lazy That we allowed spoken sentiment to dry up Replaced by quips and sarcasm Communicating only That I am And you are And we are Through Yes I am through with second guessing emotion And you are through with needy wanting We are through with petty squabbling We are through with dry expression I am through with you Just as you are through with me However we, most importantly Are finally through with ‘we’

38