Alex - Hello Poetry

Alex Jun 11

The candle sits
The wax untouched, unfamiliar to its purpose
Like man... created to one day fade.
The wick gets lit… And the dance begins
The flame starts small but grows
Burns with desire, a warmth unmatched
It dances. As if for me and no one else
Unwavering…
With such beauty that words fall short

I gaze… my eyes fixated
They start to burn
I blink… but the flame is gone
The smoke it’s ghost
The smell a reminder of what once was
It was perfect… if only for a moment

I love candles. A melancholy story repeated over and over again. For with its beauty and strength it’s equally fragile. I often light one and watch the flame. It gives me solace for all it takes is a wick and a match for the dance to begin.

Alex Jun 2

Blues and Greens

Blues and greens… add a warmth to pain.
Drown scars like water
A solace in an otherwise vast emptiness

I love to draw… but like my writing it lacks skill or conviction

The following is something I did using procreate. My attempt to Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait

https://ibb.co/L90Rvw8

Alex Apr 22

Misery Loves Company

To wake before the sun
To sleep without the greeting of the stars
In a room. Full of memories yet void of life
It’s the mind that holds one back
The faint echos of chaos
Despair... A word I know all to well

I find the fragments between such pains my only solace.
The fatigue of my thoughts its release
For man in its complexity is such a simple thing
Made of flesh and bone
And nothing else

Alex Apr 21

Conversations of Rain

I sit...
On porch swing earnest...
The heat from my tea escaping
The dark clouds reshaping

I close my eyes...
It starts with a single drop
As a word does in a book
Then...the symphony erupts
The course takes shape

Like conversations in a busy room...
Thunder takes the stand...
Demanding silence...
And with its thoughts gone the rain begins again...

Lightning and wind reaching out to be heard and seen.
But my eyes are still shut...
Will they open to a calm? Will they open at all?

Ask the rain... for it speaks in my place...

Alex Apr 20

The forgotten rose

It sits…
The colors at one point bright
Now fade and soon turn grey
It stood once…as high as the sky itself
But now… hunched over
Burdened by time and neglect
For it was deprived
And deprivation is all it has to feed on.

I love seeing plants at coffee shops. But more often than not they sit without water and sure enough die. I find it ironic. For the amount of condensation from their cups could be measured by oceans and seas. To be within reach to such a fragile and beautiful thing yet so far away.

Alex Feb 21

Breakups

With each lie a crack forms...
Each act of deceit...a fragment lost
A pain that's all to familiar...
All that's left are tears...
And alas no amount will quench your thirst

Alex Feb 21

Cherish each day

Such is this
For we wake to a day that’s not promised
And waste it without humility
And each day that fades so does the candle’s flame.
For when the room falls to darkness
The melted wax is what remains