Forever unending time scribes inside my mind the lies and self attrition,
Eating, chewing away.

Through to the day,  my dues I pay,
And forever unending time remains.

Besieged is he that breathes to thee.
Laying in his lonely steppe.
Battered, shattered, but somehow remained a whole.

To my mind, designed by he unknown,
I silently sing and pleade,
Peace,  please.
Just let me sleep.

~Robert van Lingen

Life is a river flowing.
With many curves,
The ebb and flow of the channels and estuaries.
The paths change over time.
Big life events are the floods that completely reshape our river. For better or worse.

When one area becomes too difficult to navigate, we branch off and try and find an easier path.

As we get older, the river changes from a large, deep, slow-flowing river that we seem to drown in forever, and slowly transforms in to the fast, shallow stream; we can finally float, but things are moving much faster.

And all rivers lead to the ocean. Our enlightenment. Our freedom. Our peace. Where our legacies become little raindrops,
To start the journey all over again.

Panic at the door,
Knock, knock.

I feel my waning mind,
My breath distressed as I try not to answer,
My heart beating in ominous tune.

The anxious wait,
Streaming thoughts turn to screams,
Thoughts darting here and there,

The incessant drumming,
Don't open the door,
Or everyone will see...

~Robert van Lingen

It's a sad state of affairs,
When I pray for a freak accident,
So I don't have do deal with,
What I'm scared of:

Me

Fast and slow our life flows,
A way for you and I,

Show me your phantasmal eyes,
And I will read your epic trye,

Lest you stare into mine,
And be lost for all of time.

I'll move on,
But I'll never not miss the moments,
The look in your eyes.

I'll move on,
And I'll forget to forget the memories we share,
Of how you cleared my melancholy skies.

I'll move on,
I'll regret to regret the wrongs I've done,
And I'll shake them loose as now I've learned.

I'm moving to moving on,
On and on my eyes float by the skies we stood underneath as we smiled and we forgot,
We forgot how to hurt.

I'm moving on.
But,
I'll never not love what we once were,
And what we used to want to be.

~Robert van Lingen

The silent war between lovers' lines,
In the midst of endless time,
I find nigh, I am high,

To the core, in my endless mind,
The kind of hearts, that pry and pry,

Curses shouted to the wind,
Verses, written to the page,

A fast, and slow calling, just barely out of reach.
Touch my fingertips and look into my eyes,
As I slip, and fly away.

~Robert van Lingen

O Sun,
O Moon,
Will I see ye once more?

By word I marched,
By order I bled,
There is a stale silence in this winter air.

I am last standing yet not unscathed,
Pain writhes through me,
But this man yet stands.

I carry on to see her, Sun.
I carry on to see her, Moon.

Sun shines on my heart and heals wounds all.
Moon cools heart and calms souls complete.

Without ye I may not carry forth,
Carry forth this weight of mine pains.

Yet shall I see these divine again,
The hurt shall be lifted,
The aches dispelled,
And Happily will this man live with his Sun and his Moon 

~Robert van Lingen
II-II-MMXII

I fornicate with the future,
And I lay with its lies.
I stand by and try to understand,

I demand the utmost respect of myself,
As I find myself the sole recipient.

Yet sometimes I stare at my treacherous glass that show'd me the image of someone who isn't quite like myself.

I berserk blindly into the unknown.
I know not little of what lays behind,
Though in retrospect of my mind,
I do indeed know what makes me blind.

What blinds my eyes,
Is what I cannot see in a mirror.

It is my heart.
It is my mind.

My heart is the home of squandered potential,
Depression sets in,
Cement the state and fall away into my usual state of mind.

The mirror I trod upon is the unfalling foe,
Introspection's regressions feed the deathless ranks of anxieties,
With but nothing left to say,
Nary a hopeless smile althewhile.

Pop another pill to drown tomorrow's sorrows,
With today's having a long way yet to go.

Silence,
The mystery,
Sight unfollowed.

The absence of noise may be just as loud as not,
Due to the voices we use to fill the void,
Anxiety.

It is easy to remember the noise,
But impossible to forget the silence

What now?
Lies or Confusion?
Misunderstanding or Malice?
The truth is all I seek.
Give me something to believe.

Taint the starry sky.
Where even the truth speaks deception.
Believe this,
Believe nothing.

Who are you?
Why am I?
What were we?

Do I love?
Do I hate?
Feel or Fall?
Give me something to believe,

Taint the Stars.
The memories are hell and heaven entwined.
To one side I walk,
To the other, I cry.

Give me something to trust,
Yet what is this word?
To Trust.

To Muster the will to move along and turn a blind eye to the past.
To us? Trust speaks in tongues.
It's hieroglyphs read nothing we understand.

Taint the sun,
Its blazing light turns to showers of fear.
The rain turns red.

Show me something to believe,
Grant me reprieve,
N'er shall I see the same.

~Robert van Lingen

Typing...

This is it.
The role of the dice so maybe I can finally sleep,
Hopefully these are the last words I write so my heart can slow to the creeping I wish It'd be,
So I can dream of things that I will never have to have the pleasure of seeing again.

Write the word
   No need to rhyme.

This is my home,
Please take a seat and have a cup of tea.

Sometimes the words flow like honey,
So sweet and lovely.

The ink is my solace from this mind,
   However mostly healed,

   However...

Spill the peace upon the pages.
  My pen is my heart,
With black ink blood..

Please sit with me a while longer.
Speak a toast to the everlasting sonders of this beautiful life we live,
This sacred space of ours.

My mind is restless.

Invested in which what wherever I breathe,
   Philosophy.

Once I awaken,
I will truly enjoy this place and times therein,
Until then,

Please come again.

If a picture is worth a thousand words,
How many a memory?

I could read your eyes for a thousand years and it would be only the start,

Suffice to say,
I've written more than a few.

~Robert van Lingen

Words,
Are the believed truth.
The selfless intentions we've lost ourselves within.
Abhorred by those who don't understand.

Words,
Are the language of our endless thoughts,
Torturously imprisoned if left with no other choice.

So,
Speak to me your sins,
Your loves,
Your pains,
Your means,
And your end.

Spout your soliloquy my direction,
And I would revel in the limitless interpretations of your thought.

Words are LOVE

~Robert van Lingen

Here I sit,
In my most simplistic extravagance,

Upon summer's yond,
My eyes lay atop the sunset with desperate ease.
I am in Love.
With the Feeling.

I sway within the songs of peace,
Sing to me forevermore,
Lest I sink into your,
Your nightshade song.

~Robert van Lingen
Beautiful, yet curiously dangerous

To shed my fears
I bleed my tears away

I caught myself,
Staring at the sun...again,

It pulls me back,
To places better been,

I am but a moth,
   Chasing the stars,

The light ablaze,
   phases me away from my pains,
   and draws me closer, closer again.

I wake up hours later,
   In shock,
   disgusted with myself.

I walk to the lights I see that blind me,

"Come closer,"
"Come closer,"

I am lost in my own skin
My eyes deceiving.

Tonight,
I'll join the flight that takes me to where I hope I've never been.
Closer to the sun.

The fire inside,
The ******* lies behind.
The years I loved and dubbed the best I knew,

You do know what you've done.
**** the memories,
I don't want them anymore,
Here, take them and disappear.

Every little lie.
Nary little fib.
I feel sorry for the other guy,

He'll learn in time,
All you know how to do is lie.

~Robert van Lingen

I do suppose,
That little pill,
Has done its deal,
in sealing me away,

or at least,
the part of me I wish I'd never see.

The lack of write,
represents my lack of fight,

bittersweet.

i love nothing more but to speak,
these little lines.
these broken skies, however,
never suited me well.
This isn't goodbye,
just,
see you later,

when there's something,
something to fight.

Come,
Wintre's blaze.
Burn my inferno dear,

Sweet, Sweet release,
From Summer's peace.

Firestorm follow my tendency,
To recluse, unwholly,
And leave myself behind.

Wither, wintre's faces beckon,
My heartfelt sorrow's near.

Tis' the season,
To hold my sanity,
Dear.

The day I wept,
Today I slept,
I swept aside that which kept me awry,
And I breathe a sigh of relief to those who listen.

The days I wept,
Long passed,
Long avast are my tears, the yearning and the burning,
Fears abound.

A year's past and I have found that which I thought I had all along.

Yet, today I am not blind to agony, the fight,
I remember that which I lost of myself,
Now regained in a new light.

Her name?
Peace.

-Robert van Lingen

tick,
tock,
the drippling droplets,
escape like clockworks,

to fly,
and fall upon my mind

Look at me.
Stare,
Into my bloodshot eyes.

Death,
You follow my every step,
I don't even care.

Claw my skin and take everything from me,
I stare through fate with a straight face.

Go ahead. Do your worst. I'll never be afraid.

I live within the walls of pain every day, and maybe that's why I'm still here.

I'm not afraid to die.
I'm not afraid to cry.

But...
Don't, you, DARE
Think I welcome the fateful pair.

I spent my years with fear,
Throughout my days in pain, with death knocking at my door.
Then I lost so much more.

I cast fear aside,
Petrified what may come otherwise.

I'm neighbors with death.
I live with pain.
And I don't care.

The only thing I hate is,
I'm in love with loneliness.

~Robert van Lingen

In a day I fall,
To these walls I scream,
NO MORE!

Yet they play their sadistic songs,
Play my piano strings, dear, keep on.

You,
You who hated me for my past,
Abhorred me for my pains,
And yet you play.

Play on and slay what's left,
This man who bore his bones to you,
Who bled his last drop to show his love yet,

This blood isn't red enough for you.

~Robert van Lingen

I'm not ready,
   to hold a heart.

I've been too long apart from my own.
Today is just the beginning.

I'd love to see love in another's eyes again,

But,
I don't know I'm ready,

To hold a heart,
Unprepared,

Will tear apart,
   the very bones and thoughts,
   you thought were yours.

So be ready.

Hold your own heart,
   Until it no longer burns.

Do not lay your aflamed heart in another's hands,
Just to watch them burn.

Be ready.
Set free the flames that be,
And breathe deep the air you've never seen.

Then you may hold a heart.
You will hold them together,
With only the unburning flames of a true love...
A love,
That costs nothing.

But today...
I am not ready,
To hold a heart.

~Robert van Lingen

Tap the keys to ease my restless smile,
Shut the mind's eyes and let the strifes melt away.

Peace, my old friend,
Come visit me again,
Your keys hidden in Song.
Opened,
Hoping to hear you every now and again.

~Robert van Lingen

Should you kindly tell your tales,
I may blindly slash and flail,

Send the ink to paper and scribe the thoughts in immortal time.

Returned to worsened thoughts,
Caught in the spiderwebs of restlessness.
Inchworm caught in the trap.
Presuming its imminent demise.

Toothless dogs of emotional wars fought on the daily,
Screaming in my broken ears,
about how little this all means.

Heat-soaked heart drowning in my anxiety's waste products,
just looking for some direction,
someone to mention my name,
in just a positive way.
perhaps I'm deaf,
so please speak up.

I can't even hear,
my own cries of fear,
so please speak up.
I want to see,
that is what I mean,
is more than nothing.
Please?

Drudging,
Struggling,
Muddling through the days nary yet to be realized.
The dreams of ensnaring rose-water skies.
That faint red,
So beautiful...

I am fragile:

Tissue-Paper skin,
Silken heartstrings.
Yet I still can breathe.
This tenuous breeze.

Glass bones,
in my glass home.
One stone,
is all it takes to breach,
My glass throne.

I am Fragile:
Please, shout at me,
while I can barely see,
what "me," really means.

Please, tell me I'm wrong,
So I can guess why,
I'm going to cry,
A broken song.

I am the fragile song who beats in amorphous tune,
to no one else's beat.
Who's piano strings are plucked by someone else's keys.
And who's instructions are in the other room.
Locked with someone else's key.

I am Fragile:
Easily broken or damaged.
Flimsy or Insubstantial.
Delicate and vulnerable.

I am the frail,
Who lives on the sheer strength of will.

The written battles...

I cry, inside.
I scream, on the other.

The feeling of separation from that which I should not have been,
has me feeling more alone than I'm used to.

The feeling of lostness and anger transpires in my bones and
flows its way through my already pained veins.

This, I suppose, is my reality.
To find my way in the place I've never belonged.
And might just never do...

I lost the only one who had a mind anything near my own,
The only one who knew my pains...

But even she left me behind.

On the days that I don't mind,
It's as if it had never happened.

On days like these...
It tears me apart like no one ever sees.

What does "family" even mean...


~Robert van Lingen

Hello?
Oh...I'm sorry, nevermind..

Retrospect.
The dangerous game,
I play for pinks,
With sanity in the stakes.

Royal Flush,
My house is full of jokers.

Brokered a deal with the thoughts who spoke whisper'd cutthroat scenes.

Intraspect:
Everyone is perfect.
Except for me.

My forgetfulness is a more successful entity than even I at times.
My trust in regretfulness often gets the better of me.

But yea,
I hunker down,
surrounded by unforgetfulness of the lack of silence.

When I get drunk,
I become one of you,
I become but a human.
I become one of you,
Just a normal one to be.

Say long to the anxiety,
I become one of you...
Normal...
Normalcy soon feels like a disease far away from what normal really seems.
I'm not really me.

Be one of me, Heathens.
Then you might see me be the creten that seems so far out of the current scene.

So, ha,
When you drink,
Who are you?
Because when I do,
I may not be me,
But I sure am the best version of whom I see,

I both hate the feeling,
And love who I see,
I am this distorted scream in the mirror to which I owe my very being.
To whom do I address this to? Certainly not you.
Just the future me,
The sobre boy who cannot really be,
A sane human being.

I've built my wall so tall such even the most relentless assault could not topple it it all.

I've planted forests on either side so long ago they have grown and now I know,

Not even where I built my wall,

Or how tall.

With every stone you throw,
and my blood as mortar,

I will build my tower to the heavens.

Stay the waves of doubt,
  Away from the endless days,
   Of famine and drought.

The helpless mind may wander,
   To short-lived slumber,
No longer to squirm and squander,
Among the days and sonders of yesterday,

But will yet stray and ponder,
   His ways to gaze in wonder,

His safe and sound,
   His pain asunder.

Silent fireplace,
    cold stone hearth alludes to its purpose,
sitting eerily still.
       Teasing its fleeting warmth.

     The silent rumble of nothingness penetrates the peaceful silence,
Silence to itself,
   With this little lamp to my side,
providing just the right kind of light,
        to see me through this write.

Shutting my mind's eyes and breathing the endless ink blots of my thoughts.
     Thoughtless sighs squeeze,
  past my anxieties,
    and carry to me,
a tantalizing hors d'oeuvre of peace.

~Robert van Lingen

Flower breach the cement,
Arrest my lament,
My beautiful heart, rescend into dark intense.

Just. Stop. Talking.