Many people say that, actions speak louder than words,
these short little lines we write speak to us in a way a gift or a hug could never,
Actions,
do speak louder than words.
But words,
speak directly to our mind and heart:
bypassing the inconsistencies and shows us one's intentions,
words, do mean something

Mindpeace,
   My mind plays tricks,
Like the days,
   Coming.

I remembered that I forgot,
   And I smiled inside..
The thought of not thinking of you
   gives me a peace I haven't known in far too long.

For here,
   Is my first day since,
That I forgot about you.

Too many days,
   My haunted months threaten their return.

A cold winter,
   my old friend...

maybe now that I,
   forgot to remember you,

My winter won't be so cold..

Shall I paint you a picture?
With my pen and paper I may yet sing you a song,
With these scrolls I scribe, away to see my each and every perspective, prospective to today's little happenings,
blissfully ignorant to what happened just a few seconds ago.

You see,
My words are the arts,
You paint with your heart.

Love, Pain, Hate, Shame, they are all one in the same,
What keeps us sane?

The peace of which we seek blinds our eyes of the ease with which we bleed.
We cease to peace when we give in to grief.

This is the law of love and life,
With which we walk unto our paths that we ourselves have never known,
and never will,

Save the day,
We pave peace with our tears and fears for others to stride,
And find their way,

~Robert van Lingen

The crushing,
The Crippling pain,
I can see the path I need but the bars ahead of me just say no.

I step,
I talk,
I scream and walk through this torrid wood,
Made of one part memory,
And one part of fear.

The glear* in my heart hacks away,
Chopping not at the trees,
But at the writer here,

The endless edge of the forest,
Perpetually out of reach.

Breathe.
Close my eyes.
Walk blind.

When I look,


Am I there?

~Robert van Lingen

I might seem strong to you,
Truth is,
I'm just too broken to ask for the help I silently need.
How am I still here?
I'm too selfish to remove myself from the equation.
Why are you still here?
Because I lie to myself and tell myself that you are.
Because I'm terrified of losing everything I'll never receive.
Because I live under the assumption that I'm worthless because all past evidence points to it.
Because I'm broken.
And If I ask for help,
I'll probably break you too.
And break myself even further.
Because I'm afraid of everything.
Because I'm not,
Who we think I am.

Each and every time,
I hear that rhyme,
That song,

I become strung along,
Back to the little basement,
Where I spent my teenage years,
The look on my face when it was just you and I.

Though our adolescent love has faded,
we've become friends, even if distant,
and gone our separate ways,
My love for that moment will never be swept away,

You were my drug back when,
My mind was narrow then.

For I was your hero, and you were my Heroine.



~Robert van Lingen

You will read this,
We will cry,
At the silence,
Between you and I.

subside the restless, crashing waves.

free my mind from this prison.

i am tired.
i am lost.
i've lost all meaning of the word, hope.

now, i just survive,
but only just...

egged on by the pluck and strike of the dancing tunes i force myself to listen to,
just to distract myself from all the raging stimuli.

emotion-sensory overload

perhaps, it's time i tried something new.
to stare into fear, and run it through...

maybe the little white pills aren't the boogyman,
the monster under my bed.

the monster is in my head,
and perhaps,
this little white pill...
just may put him away for a little while,
one day at a time.

subside the restless,
thoughts in my head.


~~~~~~~

this is my therapy.
so that i can breathe.

this one's not for you,
it's for me to read.
but if you really want to,
so can you.

these writings,
these ramblings,
these, incoherent thoughts,

are many things to me.
i write for several reasons,
and I post my work for several more.

this, is my therapy...
this allows me to go back in time and, re-live moments, to re-think thoughts, and most importantly, re-evaluate my internal response and outlook of the situation, feeling, or occurrence.

my writing focuses upon my internalisms, my thoughts.
very few of my pieces are outwardly inspired. Very rarely is my writing based within my physical perception of what is happening around me.

I post and share, for several more reasons; some purer than others.
I share because I don't want others to suffer as I do at times, and perhaps, something in my writing will inspire a change in thought or feeling, or at the very least, allow someone to relate, and realize they're not alone.

I share so that someone, someday will recognize the true weight and reflection of my writing and be able to identify how, and why I am how I am, and help me better understand myself and the world around me, and minimize, or even eliminate this endless battle, and help me find the only thing in life that I truly yearn for:
peace.

i share also because i feel that my experiences and thoughts are common property. my creations, once made, are no longer mine to keep to myself. these words, these thoughts, these feelings are yours to do with what you please. love them, hate them, learn from them, or ignore them completely. Just as speech is common domain, so is my inner speech.

lastly, i share Because of my struggle... this is my selfish motive. I am addicted to the validation of seeing you all read my inner thoughts and react to it. It tells me I am not dreaming. It shows me that what I feel is, in fact, real and that I am not just a figment of my own imagination.

Why am I writing this?
to show you i am not merely a writer behind a mask, or truly a writer at all.
I am just a human, a person sharing my existence in the form of written words.

Thank you,
And may you all find a true, everlasting peace, and love within yourselves, and each other.

Eenie,
Meenie,
Miney,
Mo,

Catch a poet by his toes,
If he suffers,
Let him go,

Eenie,
Meany,
Miney,

Oh...

What is this curse I bear...
To always be aware of my doings,
But never knowing why?

I am a lost ship with no rudder or flares,
I am a roaming car with no wheel,
I am a scout with no compass...

I am,
a soul,
a heart,
a mind,

with no truth
no light
nigh even a tenuous sky...

when I lay these eyes upon where the stars would be,
Mindnumbing shudders grapple my limbs and slay me forth against the walls I'd built but only to keep my heart safe,
mindrunning awild as I can only see behind me.
Time, rushing away from these brittle bones.
I,
have no idea

Confusion's forsaken my thoughts to the long-lost brothers of insecurity.
Forcibly taken and tossed aside to hide within the lies of insincerity.

Kindred servant's lullabies:
Forgotten songs of yesterday,
Soothe me into waking nightmare.

Lead-shoed memories float upon seas made of stone,
Buried shallower than a grass-fed grave.

Anxious tensor userp my synapse's happiness...
Clutching my eversweet peace like a spoil'd child.
Hidden from view,
but most certainly there.

Dare me to escape the frozen steel I call home.
Wrought Irony,
Dragging my prison beneath my feat...

Misspelling's intentional because my feat?
Dragging my feet.

Asleep at the wheel,
my heart is steel.

Awoken stone cries gravel tears,
bruising my feet as I walk,
Talking as if the sensation is anything less than profoundly real.

Tangency is my thought process,
Clever distractions from the harbor'd fears:
just look the other way.

Case in point:
Confusion's forsaken my tears,
as my fears fade away,
if only to return another page.

Music in one ear,
Chatter in the other.

An endless stream of thoughts in the other,
A restless mind in the other.

Smother'd by the descending fogs of doubt,
Another moment,
Another fake smile.

I will laugh with you,
as I hide inside.

Otherwise,
under covers,
Today is,
Just like any other.

~Robert van Lingen

Tomorrow,
   To Borrow Time,
   To sign the lines that resign our lives away,

This is our time.
   Salute,
   And Stand Attention.

For We Are,
   The Next In Line.

~Robert van Lingen

Why are you running?
Pull down the sun,
Look in a mirror and see that it is you.

Why try to escape?
Wave away the clouds and fear no fear,

Why let your tears fly?
Dry them and step into the stars and you will see,
You are there.

Why chase the light?
When you are shining already.

You Are the Light.

~Robert van Lingen

Conjunctory synapsations dominate this space of mine.
Illogictorious messengers flutter across the grey matter.

Ellaborations swim down my being.
Painfulnesses take wing through the nervousness I call anxiety.

It is reading words that can be said, but that you cannot understand.
This is me,
My time,
My ramblings in thought,
I am,
Stranded in my mind.

The single thing I've been chasing for as long as I can remember.
Perched Gracefully upon my fingertips,
Only to fly away.

Leaving me on to watch enviously at its untouchable beauty, not knowing If I'll ever see it again.

One can only Hope.
Peace.

~Robert van Lingen

Who are you?

What is this?

What is happening?

Grappling with my defenses as I slip into despair and confusion, comatose.

Just as I feel all is well,

The gentle swells turn to tsunami,

Crash upon my shores.

The moors sink into the unrelenting waves.

I see you and I cry inside.

Why?

I don't know.

The mere sight of you still shakes me to my bones,

As I sink and drown I watch you float past in your bliss,

Sail past me, unawares.

Somebody save me...

~Robert van Lingen

The seance,
Between my heart and mind,
Serves to intertwine,
My thoughts I might find,
Buried in my heart,
The kinds that tear me from my feet,
Up till the moments I've died.

Every unwaking second,
Is a moment I find,
That my heart and mind,
Can be...

Alone.

~Robert van Lingen

I'd buried my only fear so deep as to make the Gods wonder,

I'd built my trust,
Back up from the rubbles of my decimation,
I'd trusted in one more than any other.

And yet,
You'd managed to find that too.
Well done, sir...

Once more you've taken my trust to a ****** ropes' end.
Again you've manifested the fear I'd kept locked away.

That's too bad.
Now There is none more for you to bring to life.
There are no more towers for you to topple...

Yet I stand before you.
I.
Will.
Not.
Fall.

You've no more stones to cast.
I will use your wretched ammunition as bricks,
And my blood as mortar.

It is no longer I who will fall.
You have nothing left.
I am.

am so,
alone.

i need a friend.
i want to talk to my friend

no.

Why?

you'll be a burden, she's busy.
she's got more important things to do.

then..who do i talk to?

me.

but, you're me.

I,
am so,
alone.

I am Patience and I am Pain,

I am tribulation and trials,

I am horror and I am happiness,

I am not myself, nor I wish to be so.

I am as existence is,

And so I wish to be peace,

I wish,

And I am.

Once in a day I wake,
And once in a day I fall away.

Once in today I looked inside myself to find the ways I used to be.
Once in one day I still cannot see who I will be.

Once in two days I fall astray and I forget what I've meant to forget to remember.

Once,
I sway to the sounds of my approaching sleep,
Everything goes away.

One, in this way,
I slip,
I fade away into the peace I wish I'd find,
Every other day.

~Robert van Lingen

Miles and Miles, the isles file away,
Walking past, walking fast, and I find myself astray,

Bleeding deep and needing peace,
Let fly one more tear,


I find myself in need of that which I never knew I never had,

But wait,
The novel forever unfinished,
Read me one more page.

~Robert van Lingen

Ideas cast in thoughtless gold,
Will rend no fortune's tale.

Though dreams forged with dauntless hold,
Will breathe truth preveiled.


~Robert van Lingen

Love blunt my blade,
Set in stone my firebrand,

And show me a new way.

~Robert van Lingen

Hold tight to hope's embrace,
   wait...

I've heard this line before.

   This corridor I've walked along before,
I walk along once more.

Breathlessly tracing my fingertips along the walls as I stroll through the halls,
  
   Feel the infinitesimal imperfections,
akin to the ones in my mind.

Mind the gap.

Ahead here,
   is a dead end.

the point I cannot see past.

what,
What is behind my wall?

~Robert van Lingen

Lights sputter,
Ringing in your ears,
Held tight in hope's embrace.

Tears pour,
Muffled screaming,
Everything you knew is gone.

Ground is shaking,
Dust in your fingernails,
Blood on your arms,
Curled up, you pray this isn't real.

A bright flash.
Silence.
Nothing.

What happened?

~Robert van Lingen

------------
A poetic prologue to One Year,
a short novel by Robert van Lingen

Broken Light,
  shattered nights,
My blight with which I dance and weave.

To and fro,
   my wonderlust flows.
My fascination with the fight.


The shortest distance between peace and I,

Is through Hell.

~Robert van Lingen

To write the fight is my way to speak,
To fight the might of life is my reason to live,

Set me free to my mind and I will never look back,
To myself I am the one and only.

I am in control.

To write the fight is my way to speak,

Breathe to me,
And show me who I am.

~Robert van Lingen

Who
                               Are
  You
           To
                                     Judge
                  Others
For

     What
                       You
                                      Are

              NOT

Little whispers in my ear,
Strike as silent screams,
My heart the amplifier.

Speak to me and I shall find meaning you can't understand.
Scream to me,
All I hear is death in my ears.

A gentle whisper,
A harmless little ripple,
Perpetuates in my torrid waters,
Becometh my reaper grim.

Your little words,
Whisper to me as I drown in the shallows.

~Robert van Lingen

If asking these questions,
Leads to the edge's ends,
Then so be.

This way I see,
Will no longer breathe life,
Into the clouded seas,
Of a scene,
That serves only to see,
To my demise.

It may be wise, then,
To just say goodbye,
And breathe the sighs,
of our relief,
To once again walk the streets,
Without using our hands and knees.

Then maybe,
Once again,
In few years' time,
We could say hello,
In and of a new light,
Once we've seen,
Who You and I,
are truly meant to be.

~Robert van Lingen

Count the syllables,
One by one,

The eternal tale,
Spoken lines,

Reading our silence,
Word for word.

~Robert van Lingen

This war I wage.
A new chapter.

I fought my battles,
I bled my blood.
I followed my orders and by God I marched,

Little did I know,
In this war I wage...
I fight on both sides...

I am weary, now,
Of this thing called hope.

Peace,
Solace is my addiction.

My continuous affliction with change foreshortens my perception of peace.

Give me a taste and I shall not waste a drop,
Send it through my veins to take hold,
And seethe.

Peace,
Solace is my addiction,

How I've turned such a beautiful word,
To poison,
And torture...

My beautiful affection to the untouchable, unreachable,
The next best thing?

I like to think,
To be loved,
To love,
To hold,
To shoulder your burdens and see a smile that just so happens to be my fault.

A ruthless addiction,
Such is Love.

~Robert van Lingen

The Dream,
The relenting call,
Here I,

I want to believe those fleeting dreams,
To move on and be,

But,
I am beguiled by the seas of everything I wanted to be,
Adrift on the forever of it all.

Writing the lines forming before me, ultimately trapped in time,
A relentless mind running blind in the wilds of what I will never become.

Unkempt,
Yet I am young.

I follow the beating drums of a different tune,
A strange mind,
Step,
Waltz to the curious muze.

~Robert van Lingen

Mental heart at rest,
At rest...

At best,
I must arrest my restless mind to slog through the rest of today.

At Rest.
At rest,
Birds nest of anxieties...
Come to rest.

SILENCE!

insolent mind.

Be, at rest.

Bound to a destiny encased in brass,
I await the fateful day,
Standing by,
Feigning my existence all the while,
Holding the beast at bay.

Chicken scratch,
Chicken scratch...

scribbles,
   Slashed against the page...

What is this rage?

This ink is my blood.
   Let me bleed some more.


~Robert van Lingen

I sit here, once again.
Gazing back to the past.
Head shrunken down as I wonder what could've been...

But yet I silence myself for the better,
   for it doesn't matter what could have been.
What I could have seen...

I sit here,
   quietly picking up the pieces of my yet again shattered heart,
even if it didn't take much this time around.

I'm, just trying to make the best of what could be,
Not so much concern myself with what shouldn't.

So,
   be still my stricken soul,
   and my scarred heart.

The path to peace is paved with pains,
And every brick I lay brings me that much closer.
In these stones I set, I send the sickness away.

And I glue together the weathered feathers of the wings with which I will fly.

Yet the sky is so far away...

All the more to learn along the way.

~Robert van Lingen