Finally...to have experienced genuine love!

...a captivating whisper of tender words
...a knowing glance of enduring confidence
...a gentle touch charged with intimacy

If only that lovely couple would pass by more often...

Stroll along the riverbank
With a cautious mind
You'll see the mist ahead
Till your eyesight goes blind

When society bares nothing but hate
Making you feel alone and unwanted
Your brain will begin to compensate
An easy way out or a harder way in
It is your will power that takes it on the chin
That keeps us present

Questioning your existence isn't recommended
But questioning your purpose is welcomed
Someone’s close by to speak
Lets pray
They know that a meaningful silence
Helps more than uncongenial words

The sun rises and gradually begins to kiss our skin
And the mist begins to fade into a vast nothingness
That silent presence is obliged and before you know
That mysterious someone was your own reflection
All along it was your own person that pulled you out of it
Dragging yourself away from uncertainty and towards
Content.

-Joshua L-m

When I was a kid happiness wasn't a decision, it wasn't something you learned from textbooks or teachers, it was a given. And it wasn't given to you by some magical means you just had it.  But as the years slip by, we find we too are slowly slipping, and more and more we have to try to reach for that something we were not given we simply got. And as our fingers brush bravely along the line between bliss and destruction, the definition of happiness is lost.  We read the news in reverse, so the man with the gun removes bullets from the chests of 20 children and their teachers. And the man returns home and becomes a boy in a time when mistakes were forgiven.  Because it seems as we get older the world gets crueler and if its unbearable now, how will ever survive? Because reading the news in reverse won't make those children alive, but perhaps if we open our eyes we will see.  We will see the reverberating effect of hate but don't let anyone tell you its too late for kindness.  The day Kyle decided the world wasn't ready, we finally were.  According to Newton's third law: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, but  when his body made contact the ripples eventually stopped.  And I guess emotions can't be bound by laws because the ripples of pain in the hearts of people he touched never did.  Its been 57 days, 1 hour and 22 minutes but the seconds keep passing as if nothing ever happened but it did.  So smile like there's no tomorrow because time cannot be borrowed and you can't give it to someone who's gone so make it your own.   So rise and shine.  Make this world a better place, even though we are just particles floating in space, we’re gonna be here awhile.  Because maybe happiness is a decision, but I’ve chosen.

There is always a first,
a first we admire,
a first we never let go of,
a first we try to let go of.

A first kiss,
creating the sensation only one man could,
releasing the butterflies,
roaming freely.

A first love,
showing your heart its true potential,
creating a path for all that is to come,
building the barriers to later be torn down.

A first cigarette,
the feeling of freedom,
your world becoming calm,
the first rush only to lead to the next.

A first cut,
the sense of pain yet recovery,
a mean of freedom from what is held inside,
the newest escape yet the last resort.

There is always a first,
every first has its end,
the end is only where we can truly begin...

Click the link if you'd like to listen to me speak this poem.

https://soundcloud.com/venniekocsis/the-separating

I have stared at pictures
of my face with
closed eyes

I have imagined
this is what I would
look like in a coffin

so I will be burned
turned to ash
sprinkled into the
soft earth of this Mother

so they can remember
the sound of my laughter
when I visited the trees

Some say "oh, that is so morbid!
how could you think like that?"

I reply, "how can I not,
when I know I'll be back?"

I am but just a blink
on this thing we call a life
when I return to stardust
I'll sleep a thousand nights.

But for now
I trudge the wreckage
of a complicated pain
to see if I can
build the strength
to return this way again.

How does one hold on to hope,
dying in the snow,
huddled 'round a barrel fire
as the sarin seeps the ground?

I say I am a washer,
some ask me what I mean
I have invisible knapsacks
strapped behind my knees

I have wondered why
I'd choose this kind of life
to feel the saddest parts
of a human's broken heart

Sometimes I stare at photos
I don't recognize myself
not the upturned nose
or the slight overbite of my jaw
I stare at foreign eyes
who was she before
she was forced to survive

I remember planets
where I sat beside the blues
places just like this one
without the sorrow

It has always felt abnormal
to be inside this skin
like my soul has always
fought a war
with being in human form

I have gazed at my face
in colorful gradients
long to kiss my lips
and feel their softness
to know just once
what it is like
to stand on the outside
of a bullet riddled body

I would hold my cheeks,
look at myself so sweetly
in all the ways I imagined
would happen if I was loved
unconditionally, fully,
wholly, without expectation

I have stared at the darkness
like it's a Hearst
where my dead flesh would rest first,
carried through dimensions
back to the before
if I could just have the courage
to step through that door

It doesn't feel familiar
being in this place
with the indifference,
the passivity and
the down turned faces

It's not to say I
don't have moments where I'm happy
but how can I skip through rainbows
when there is so much weeping?

I feel each time they ache
like it's my very own heart
like they're a piece of my existence
their shadowing lingering
in my footsteps and
I cannot catch a breath
for the intensity of
their desperate loneliness

I have stared at my hands
folded across my chest
the way my fingers would interlace
before the skin decays and breaks

the way humans display
other humans
to feel better inside
about the way
their loved one died;
pomp and circumstance
taking precedence
in lifelessness

I have images stamped in my head
my eyes black and absent
the way they'll be in the end

take it back
put it in concrete
make a chisel with a code
so deep
they'll have to go to
great feats to figure it out
because there are two choices
love and doubt

and in the end
neither will matter
it'll just be you and the stars
and the echo of grief
evaporating into the mist

and you will see your face
on white paper
with words about
a second of an inch thick
before you become separated
into a remember when

let the shards fly
sink into my skin cause
I'll be back this way again
but until then

I wonder what will be
written on my epitaph
she felt too much
she let the sadness gush
she whispered in the silence

No, No
save the stone
instead, make me flame
in my last moments let me shine
and be light
then take me to the sea
where the waves will bury me

and I'll return home
to tell them of a dying planet
and the few eyes
who have not yet lost hope

v.k poetry
copyright @ dbv publishing 2013