Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
asdarknessclosesinaroundsensesandallseemsclusterfucked
thosewhodr­eamseesomethingelse
tendtomakeanewcreation
[]    []    []    []    []    []    []    []    []    []




Fait­h is believing without seeing

So how does one have “more faith”?

How exactly does one believe?

Belief is...the elusive wraith...



Do I say in my mind, “I believe, I believe!”,

And eventually find that it’s true?

Or does it require clear-cut demonstrations?

And if so, what evidence will do?



Some faith is required when the teacher explains

Four divided by two equals two

But then in the classroom of any good teacher

This assertion is proved to be true



But what of the esoteric abstract assertions

The proclamations about the unseen

(The help that is given by clergy or guru)

Are they true, or designed to just grease the machine?



How does one do it? How do they have

A “personal relationship” with a dead man?

Or a living GOD who lives on the throne,

But chooses stone silence as part of his plan?



Or is GOD there, screaming His head off at me?

While I am just too dense to hear?

Oh why is there so much trouble receiving

The message from One who created the ear?



I want to, I want to, I want to believe,

And someday I’ll find it’s all true

Meantime, I’m sitting here, heart on my sleeve,

Blurting my hurt… *and so blue
What weeds
cannot be taken out
none
all things
can be shaped
to perfection
depending
on how you define
perfection.
His speech is rough,
his work is smooth.
Wait.
Don’t make him talk.

His tools can maim
or make an angel.
He has wrinkles like wood grain,
memories like wood scraps.
Wait, and he’ll carve one.

The stories come
gnarled, with knotholes.
Listen.  
He chuckles like a chisel
working old walnut.
Dedicated to James Adams of La Honda, California

first published in Indian River Review
Love was grand
Then went bad
Love was happy
Then turned sad
Love was worship
Churned to scorn
Love was life
Burnt and mourned

Love is worth
All it tolls
All the warts
And all it's moles
I'll do it again
If only I could
With all the bad
And all the good
 Jun 2016 Daniel Salvatore
JDK
If you feel impotent in a world that doesn't move in the way you'd prefer it to; a world that is progressing at a rate that you can't keep up with. That it's spinning on despite you, and you see it as a personal attack, as in that it's spinning just to spite you, and this makes you feel desperate and alone and bitter, and these feelings swell up into a boiling hatred that makes you want to commit ******, in order to make yourself be heard in a world that ignores you.
Please, do the world a favor, and **** yourself first.
P.S. You're the worst.
Oh, rose why did you cut me by
Your thorns that caused me pain and make me cry,
There’s something that I really don’t understand,
How could you be like that when I give you everything that you want.

On the desert I used my tears for you to grow,
And I know you saw it how it flows.
It was like giving someone hospitality,
And after doing it they just have killed you right away
It was a feeling like someone’s already dying,
But you’re still asking them to stay.

My heart have died in many ways,
The pain was becoming more painful more and more each day.
I never thought that you will be like that,
So much beauty you contain,
But too much pain you can bring.

So I realized killing myself for you,
There’s nothing I could gain,
And think that from the rough and rocky place I came,
I should already go to the plain.

I'm sorry my most red rose of all the kind,
But it seems for a long time I now realized that I was too blind.
So now i'll take the opportunity,
To give you the life you wanted to be.

Because the more I hold you more tightly,
The more I cry and want to die nightly.
Thinking about all the things that I’ve done,
And you just for taking it for fun.

So goodbye my red rose,
Ill just face this hell with my eyes closed,
Remember that I love you with all my heart and soul,
I really don’t want to say this but I'm letting you go.

— The End —