theo-holland
American
I will reach out to you through the rivers of Hughes and the love of Neruda. I will write to me with the loneliness of Dickinson and the dark of Poe. I will see beyond the progress of cummings and Whitman and set forth into a far long land of future. / / Please don't find my earnestness displeasing.
i need to leave
this place of mine
land of eternal sunshine.
i must get out
as the free men shout,
lest my imagination be bereaved.
so i travel to the banks
of the Mississippi and sing softly
the songs of Hughes and Wheatley.
i travel to the shores
of the Atlantic and hear cries upon the moors
of Pope and the Bard, ships who sank.
but i hesitate at the grave
of Da Vinci in le Val de Loire
and think of my final hour.
i hesitate at the end
of a journey well spent to contend
that life without love one cannot save.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 3:28 AM UTC
carry
your memories
in a glass box.
read
your thoughts
aloud and shout.
throw
your ideas
without regard to gravity.
help
your hands
to feel unknown shapes.
open
your mind
to the infinite and
truly it will be,
your soul,
free.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 3:01 AM UTC
there is no greater joy
than conversing with a stranger,
completely bereft of
inhibition and
experience;
there is no greater joy
than conversing with a lover,
completely sure of
trust and mutual
fragility;
there is no greater joy
than conversing with the wind,
completely sound in
your mind and
thoughts.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 2:51 AM UTC
solace; We
took it from our parents
and the time We
never had to spend in
sadness; We
thanked no one for
it although such luck
was surely not from ideas
suppressed; We
lived and wasted that
life on the paltry
which We thought without
struggle; We
believed in ignorance
and reasoned through excuse
that We were beyond
such; We
are the inheritors of
the world and yet We can't
claim one bit is because of our
success.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 1:56 AM UTC
my soul breaths.
it rises and falls as the
red tides do
on the western shore.
my soul breaths,
just as the leaves
of the deciduous must
redden and fall.
my soul breaths,
the songs of the lonely
mournfully
whispered over the piano.
my soul breaths.
unique.
inevitable.
longing.
universal.
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 1:44 AM UTC
trust me she assured
in the fading glow as though
trust came tied with thoroughly tested
knots intertwined with love.
hear me she pleaded
as the past abruptly revealed
itself in the present and communications
became pantomimes in the dark.
help me she screamed
to the night stars who shone
glowering at her lusterless attempts
to be elevated and live.
hi, its me I whispered
to her as the sun crept through
the morning curtains and caused
her smile to glow.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 3:40 AM UTC
I read somewhere that time
or their time or her time so
this magnificent quote, i thought
was not the same to any one person
and when i came across
i should take my time
how my time was different from your time
caught on a crisp autumn breeze and no more
slip by the most fluidly, scarves
and live for the times that seem to
subject to time than am I.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 3:20 AM UTC
a brother
does not leave
at the calling of a nation
or a religion
or...
a brother
can not simply
say goodbye with a hug
and some words
and...
a brother
would not lie
by the omission of a fervent
faith in God and
His hypocrisy
but...
I
would know all
these things had I been
a proper bother
his brother
...
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 2:05 AM UTC
See me.
More than the imagined in your mind,
more than the prescription from their lies,
do not let them create me without your vision.
See me.
My body stripped bare of its coverings,
my body stripped down to the simplest from,
let me be sculpted so in your thoughts.
See me.
And do not fear my vulnerability,
and do not shut me out of your mind,
for fear of my passion and your calm.
Understand me.
Through your eyes gazing without fail,
through your eyes I will fear no evil,
only hear the softest sigh of love and sight.
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 1:45 AM UTC
I hear the ocean,
the crashing of waves on ravaged shores,
the power of currents flowing
on towards new worlds.
I know this power,
the veil made of vast bodies,
one of ******* and the other of war
both of frontiers unexplored.
I hear the ocean
and know its power
of fear and hope,
for waves ebb and flow.
I bear witness
to the eternal duality of the oceans’ existence
and wonder
whether we are any different.
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 3:02 AM UTC