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A mind runs free.
Gleefully prancing through the pastures of crippled thought.
Thought to have been here all along,
Along the thoughtstrings of my restless mentality,
Written within the pages of a book held dear.


A heart flies,
Dreaming of the dreams in which my soul runs free.
Jealously imprisoned,
Surrounded by it's falsities.

The grasses on which I feed,
Are made of my naivities.
Nutritious only in thought,
Scarcely getting me by.

Scraping away at every crumb.
The mind runs free.


Blissfully unaware of its imprisonment.
Dreaming of peace,
Unaware of its fleeting nature.
Wickedly addicted to the sensation.
The brevity,
Of being free.
Despite having never been at all.


The mind runs free.
To write these lines.
My endless ramblings.

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.
have no idea

i want to dye.
this space of mind.
several shades of red.
and lie in bed.
to myself.
and maybe say.
everything's gonna be okay.
will it really.

i am stuck.
in this space of mind.
several shades of invisible.
to this silent mind.

oh wait.
just kidding.

this soul of mine.
it screams in time.
with the drumbeats.
of this heart of mine.
that struggles.
just to keep me alive.
in spite of mind.

in times like this.
i just want to dye.
this shirt of mine.
several shades of red.
and lie in bed.
and just.

fall asleep.
forever and more.
and dream.
of impossible things.
that i wish i could be.
like happy.
The Dream,
The relenting call,
Here I,

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

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.

Yet I am young.

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

~Robert van Lingen
A somber setting of a light gone by,
As I wipe away the tears that I've cried.

A past.
A lesson,
That won't be forgotten,

I've gotten these feelings before,
But never quite like this,

I insist,
That you leave.

And let me breathe,
For a moment.

All at once, the step that I sat upon shattered and scattered my heart,
Pick up the pieces, this is only the start.

Welcome to my mind,
Where passion is fleeting, while I walk through the halls of my losses and I learn.

Stand up.
You've gotten this far,
Press forward.
Keep writing.

This is my art.

~Robert van Lingen
My problem is I fear.

I hold on.

I never know when to give up.

I blindly wave my hands in front of me in hopes that I'll find a hidden door to paradise,

Althewhile I fully expect to never find something that will allow me to stop wandering.

If that wasn't enough,
I drag the locked doors that I find along the way behind me in hopes that,
one day,
they'll magically open.
Anxiety written in a way anyone can understand.

What do you think when you hear that word?
Depends on who says it, right?

Love is the pit we fall in,
Now that might sound bad,
But think about it,
It keeps us protected from the world outside,
Stuck with whoever fell in with us.
There's just one problem...
The person we fall in with, doesn't let go of the rope.

So easy to fall in,
But when you're left alone in love,
This tunnel of beauty, passion, ecstasy, and peace...
Becomes your own personal hell.
Built by you,
For you.

How easily we fall in.
Someone tell me how to fall out again..

~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.
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.
Point light source.
Glimpse upon your reality.

Soft-spoken liars,
Emptying their forsaken breath upon battle-scarred ears.

Anticipation of the days to come,
Eases the empty mind;
Drain'd by warfare unseen.

The fight ongoing,
Rough-cracked skin boils in the sun,
Heat-stroked by the anxiety.

Retreat into the shadows,
You poor, blossoming flower.
All you need,
Is partial shade.

Your pastel blossoms will bloom,
With colors that will amaze and astound.

Feed upon the streams that drift by,
And at last you will shine as your heartsongs always knew you could.

Define your own beauty,
And become your very own,
Point light source.

~Robert van Lingen
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.
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:

I asked for more,
And so I received.

This accursed war,
With the loves I bleed.

The endless tome,
Detailing endless seas,
of loves,
that will tease and tease.

The dreams of which I dream,
Sing me the songs of a desperate ease,
With which I fell into the spell.

The boiling swell.
This passion's disease.
My subtle hell.

Heavenly visions of the loves I'd once held,
Turn to these disquieting reminders of the pains I've once felt.

I'd asked for more,
But so I received.

Bring an end to this everlasting taunt and tease.
and grant me this reprieve.

I may, one day,
Be allowed to sleep.
Stand on High,
Revel in the peaceful noise,

Stand on high,
Atop the pillowy peaks,

Stand on high,
Toss the pebble,

As one stands on high,
And forgets,
Just a stone's throw,
May send you crashing down,


~Robert van Lingen
Fear, Is a battle.
Fear is a Disease.
My disease.

Fear, puts me in places,
That I know I shouldn't be in.
Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why.

See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of.
It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death.

Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another.
Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt.

Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear.
In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can.

Trust is powerful.
But fear cuts deep.

When trust, faith, in someone is broken...
Well...we've all been there at some point.
When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken.

At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing.
Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there.

Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends.

But, in a few of us...

In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears.
Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail.
Trust is gone.
Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything.

Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes, it doesn't.

Fear. Trust.
They walk, hand in hand.
Toe, to toe.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying.
Her energy is not limitless.

At times like these...
Hope, is not enough.

Trust has died.
The only way, to restore the balance,
Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust.

It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't.
At times like these,

I need the trust of someone,
Who is willing to share,
With one, who trusts no one.
I encourage this to provoke thought. Is there someone in your life that matches this story? Are you willing to share your trust?
Watch the silent fire,
Watch me scorch my battered heart,
Ashes cannot burn.
My indomitable core,
Shaken to the Core.

I walk my past and it's sadly familiar.

I step the steps I've stept before and begin to shed a tear,
I look ahead and smell the grass I've smelt before,
Memories return with every step.

And I walked there and wept,
Quietly to myself.

As I walk the path I've walked before,
I wet the ground I've never wet before.

~Robert van Lingen
Chicken scratch,
Chicken scratch...

   Slashed against the page...

What is this rage?

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

~Robert van Lingen
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.
The soul mindless alone,
The whole yet to be filled.

Find one to another and breathe,

The soul mindless at home finds itself in the beating minds of the tormented,
Abashed to its own state of mind.

Signed the treaty to service of the lost.
Little do they know.

The chip, chipping away at the stone heart constructed nigh,
The stone heart slipping away from its own grasp.

Broken hearts cannot heal another,
Stolen minds speak no reason.

Find unto yourself reason for pride,
Your own heart must stand fast.

So that,
One day,
You may pave peace for another to stride,
And find their way.

~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
A broken heart defensive,
Shaken to the core.

My walls went up, Came down,
And went up once more,

After her my walls impregnable,
I built my heart of steel,

Until you,
Your enchanting gaze shattered any concept of holding back,
My walls crumbled and destroyed forever.

Now years past you left me bare,
My heart so broken to leave me in this hellish glare,

Once again I raised my walls,
But yet they fall.

Mortar made from tears cannot hold a heart,
Walls no more,
I've fallen apart.

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

I'll join the flight that takes me to where I hope I've never been.
Closer to the sun.
At last,
Abashed at the rash decisions of my heart,

The crash amassed the crass dealings of my past,
The class to mask the blast,


~Robert van Lingen
Fingertip upon the glass,
   Cracking the most painful smile..

Lift my head to gaze upon...
   the fallen.

Fly back,
   eyes dart around the room,

Unravel the sheets,
   Unravel my body,
   Stare up,
   Gaze. weep.
fall through the floor.

hanging by my hands.
   fire everywhere,
Cries in every direction.

A tug at my feet,
   A cold, blood-torn face says to me,
   "Go back."

All goes black.

Anger floods my veins,
I scream...
Blood pours from my fist

at the bar,
   watch her dance,
She doesn't see me,
   because I'm not there...

her smile is the most painful knife in my side,
Because it's not mine.

A sharp pain across my face
   Get it together man,

Black again, for just a moment...
   eyes, slowly open.
laying in my bed.

It's 8pm.
   guess I'll just sleep...

to float through the silence.

~Robert van Lingen
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
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,
Love is our cottonwood.

Further I give chase,
Further it strays.

If only it may fall upon my palms,
May I fleetingly hold and sway,

Until Wind takes us,
Far, Far away.

~Robert van Lingen
Count the syllables,
One by one,

The eternal tale,
Spoken lines,

Reading our silence,
Word for word.

~Robert van Lingen
Stumbling across the periphery,
Escapist tendancies surface henceforth and again.
Deafened heartbeating thunderously infectious.
Caution to the wind.

Caution, in the brittle spirit of intermittent heartache.
Slanting sideways in the wind.
Battered yet standing have,

Caution. The winds of change blow away.
Strung along the periphery.
Tighter than pianostrings.
Pluck, pluck away,
And listen to my songs for,
My crescendo has yet to come
Curiosity killed the cat,

But a cat has nine lives,
And I have none.

What can we lose but time?

I've already lost my mind

~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.

What happened?

~Robert van Lingen

A poetic prologue to One Year,
a short novel by Robert van Lingen
A poetic prologue to One Year,
a short novel by Robert van Lingen
In this way I see these too,
The cohesive clumps of rabid thoughts,
Running, scampering, dancing of their own tune,
Careless of any other.

I try to decipher this life where it all makes sense,
To everyone but me.
To breathe in the same winds as the hints of a summer's bloom,
means to me,
not the same as you.

Brooding at the corner of my unkempt bed,
Imagining, the latter days where I may have just stepped aside,
To cry inside,
but in plain view.
To decipher these nights where nothing makes sense,
Makes sense,
To me,
and to you.
In Response to: "Bad Poetry" by LolaPark
Transcribe my sine wave,
     Rays like the sun.

Describe the unending normalcy.
   waves crashing: one too many.

Laser-focused against the (g)rain.
        Tsunami enraged.

Defiance is my resonant frequency,
      sorry to disappoint.

I am the way.
Rage flows,
When the pains shows,
That others have to go through,
When there's nothing you can do...

****** eyes,
Bruised thighs...
All from they guys they've come to trust.
It's disgusting...

And the saddest part of it all,
Most won't even tell a soul.

Because they don't want to worry us.
Or maybe,
It's too dangerous,
To try and run away..

All I can say is,
Don't be afraid to try and trust again,
Because I swear,
You can love again.

Because, we can help.
Even if it is, just to listen.

~Robert van Lingen
I have lost it all before,
What's the difference if once more?

To you I gave my little trust,
Now you've thrown it on the floor.

Don't worry,
I'll pick it up, once and evermore.

I will reassemble my heart,
and my mind, and my core.

For I am stronger,
Than my pains of yore.

~Robert van Lingen
Coming to terms with the tears,
The knife shunt into my side,
The days wasted,
And the years gone by....

Who was I, then?
Where am I now?

Beneath me the ground shakes unrelentingly,
The objective to set me falling.

My heart stands up on its own two legs,
And walks away from the strength I'd spent years rebuilding,
Only to stare at what tore it apart in the first place,
Enthralled by the fact that it's all history,
But then he just speaks to the mind,
Then he, too, joins the nostalgic glare.

Now it's as if it were yesterday.
I need not open up wounds that never even closed.

I simply forgot they were bleeding.
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.
I don't trust,
   Trust me.

I only see what my broken mind allows,

All the times I'd need'd myself most,
   I wasn't there.

and still, I am impresent to be but what flows,

Please beware,
   my mind.

Never speak to me a promise.
   'tis but a lie you don't yet know you've told.


I don't know what I'm writing anymore.
   My hands move if but of their own accord,
whilst I watch the show.
   Every line is a piece of my story I've never read before.

So please ignore,
   if this makes no sense.
I am always tensed with what I don't know.
When my mind and heart conspire,
I scrawl,

I scribe my pains away.

~Robert van Lingen
Well ****.
Turns out money is a thing.

To live the "American Dream,"
means so many things.

Student Loan Refinancing,
Let's check that credit score,
Need to get rid of that jalopy,
Oh, and there's so much more.

Still need to do my taxes,
What bracket am I in?
Do I really like this job,
Or was this just a whim,

To try and make some money,
and finish that degree,
that'll probably accomplish nothing.

But, we just gotta try, right?

Meanwhile, I still buy nice things,
To try and distract my mind from,
These depressive things,
Because how can I survive,
By living in the corner,
At these oppressive debts,
that loom over my head,
because when I was 18,
I wanted to be something.
The dreams,
The ghost of you haunts me every waking night.

Get out of my head,
And let me free.

As I sleep, the fantasy is a paradise,
As I wake, becometh a nightmare, once and overmore.

The memory of it all tears my strung-up heart apart,
Get out of my head....
                    or come back to my eyes.

~Robert van Lingen
the drippling droplets,
escape like clockworks,

to fly,
and fall upon my mind
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...
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.

the tiny little strings in my mind.

dancing to a different tune each and every day,
the world plays my songs.

eyes wandering around the room while I play with my thoughts,
like the child I never won't be.

cross-legged and slumped over as the heated droplets dribble down my spine,
and fall from my weary lips,
that which are worn from the words I never got used to saying,
singing the songs of my each and every day,

coalesce the thinkings that have somehow let me dance to where I sit today,
forlorn petals fall from my branches in beautiful pastels, cursed to live in the winding winds.

Aday to each and every day that I sing and prance within my tiny little heart,
washing my pains away.

ill-weighed upon my shoulders,
as yet i dance some more,
beneath the turbid downpours engulfed in shades of red.

i wish't to see the blue,
the green,
the steam, arising from my skin.

narrowly weeping within my little box of horrors i keep by my side,
in remembrance of each and every day i have and will yet shed a tear.

haunted lullabies revel on and on,
each and every day,

i crave the pieces of the peaces i'd once known.
to here,

i shut my eyes,
and into the blackness bursts forth colors i've never seen,
and will never see again.
to see that which i've never seen.
silent shapes shaping away falling through my fields of vision,
and inform themselves to the visions I write today,
so here,

i simply continue,
to plick,
and pluck,
the tiny strings inside my mind,

and every day.

~Robert van Lingen
As I look up,
I remember how the whole sky was alight,
For but a moment.
Dead silence.
The sun staring down in a beauty you could never Imagine.
~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.

Close my eyes.
Walk blind.

When I look,

Am I there?

~Robert van Lingen
*physically tangible, yet purely emotional pain
The raindrips are dropping outside for a change,
some way I still feel them draining through my decrepit veins.

Thunderous applause for the storms that wage,
The wars that I've paid for with my strayful ways, day after day.

Come now,
Come play in the swaying waves forming aside my imminent lines,
The ones that play and play on,
Bouncing and rebounding around inside my mind(s).

Tip, typing away,
Fueled by the fires outside this time.
Each of these rampant keys seal away the pains that fray these frail heartstrings.

Filling the gutters with the utterances that speak the futile fightings,
Flying through the air,
With the nimbus lighting my way through the faintest of nighttime scenes,
Hoping these barely discernable dreams are the ones that will see me through the day.

Easing my restless heart with the chaos rains that thunder and pour,
They sway my mind to sleep.

that it will all be over soon,
or perhaps,
even today.
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.

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
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