Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
AC Brooks May 2010
tear filled eyes
i can’t rub you from my being

a new day breaks
the sun rises
my heart sinks

i've lost you
AC Brooks Feb 2011
This mornings dawn, seems like no other, its rays of warmth, orange, red and white light piercing the cold concrete and steel edifices of the seemingly emotionless city, like monuments, giant headstones for the barren beings and misplaced souls that roam in these empty spaces, scrambling for their cut, their nut, their basket full of eggs. Unaware, most, I am sure, of the event. The suns new day, taken for granted and brushed aside, no time to notice, no time to love.

Habitually numb, alone without thought or reflection a new mood a new emotion stirs, rises. In this moment I see only you, your eyes, opening to me like this day’s sunrise. Your eyes, your being engulfing me, exposing me of my weaknesses, my flaws, and my faults, you accept me you understand me ultimately, you love me.

Like the city being warmed by this new day’s sun, I am warmed by your radiance, your touch. I am reborn and my life is anew, I breathe you in, hold you in my lungs and in my arms. In this new day’s sun, it will always be, only you, only me.
AC Brooks Feb 2011
In these days of past,
contemplation and unease have consumed my anxious mind.
My puzzled heart at the base of such reflection, stirs.
Confused, bewildered, bemused.
With the pain of the past slivering my hearts now thickened hide, aches to be held.
In your hands I wonder, can I let go of yesterday?
In your hands will my heart be kept?
In your eyes I see loves yearning for itself,
reflecting your caring heart and child like soul; in your eyes I see happiness, contentment.
In your eyes I see my loves love for me.
Still this befuddled being seeks loves reply to pains of past.
I look to you with hope filled eyes.
Your innocent smile, your love filled gaze.
With but a whisper from my loves lips,
loves promise.
Armor falls to flesh and my loves love sets me free.
In your hands my heart will always be.
AC Brooks Jul 2011
Lightning dances on my walls
shadows of the past race with the roll of thunder
faces
places
traces of you
daughters are made on nights like these

The cool breezes of my youth move through me
memories
hope
you sat on my lap and my boyhood dreams were answered
you smiled at me

this tempest will bring new life
new hope
and dances of our own
AC Brooks May 2010
Dark is this waste, this heart
This boundless void, this useless heart

Take away these dreams these plans
Replace them forever, grasping hands

Weak is my faith, my love, forever lost

Take not my hurt, my loss
My pain, my righteous reason to blame

These building blocks of me
This wall, I’m sure you cannot see
Your waves, your love cannot be

Cold now I sit inside, only me
You, your love,
Will never be

Broken is the heart I give, to thee…

Forever now, in this dark,

I am set free
AC Brooks Oct 2011
you realize
you are alone

snow falls in the sun
water runs backwards
and not all that is love is true

the moon’s dance on the mountain
is as beautiful as we have seen
but as such
we don’t believe

the biggest brown, green and blue eyes
still dance with whoever is next

the softest touch
how we wait for the touch
is still just touch

this whiskey dance
this drunken salvation
certainly

You realize
You are alone
AC Brooks Oct 2011
short it was but certainly sweet...
the taste of the wine, salt, shivering heat …
the racing hearts…

frozen moment in my lovers loves most uncertain task…
task not so deep, my lovers love I am sure runs deep,
quivering hand and slightest touch,
my lovers love, oh so salty, salty sweet…

this first kiss…
so very short…

my lost lovers love
how now
I do weep…
AC Brooks Apr 2010
This morning’s wake
You my love
Still dreaming

My loves skin
Enlivens
Entices
Tempts

Dreams spin from your sweet lips
To catch them with my own
This life with you, absolute

With stirred heart
I watch
My loves slumber
So sweet

Finger traced
Kissed lips
Loves eyes open

Forever in this
My love
Forever with you
AC Brooks Jul 2011
could it be that the night
without you
might be darker
that without you
the night is colder
that without you
I am just less than complete

your warmth just a memory now
your touch still here
just out of reach
your taste lingers on my lips
I breath in the last of your scent

I miss you

this time will pass
but without the haste I crave
your next touch so far away your next kiss seems but a dream

but I will dream
and again and again
you will be mine
AC Brooks May 2010
It rained here at work for a short while... made it a wee bit muggy...

But the smell of the rain mixed with the asphalt and dust stirs memories of walking my way home from Wyco Elementary. I can feel the water making its way through my cheap shoes and my Wrangler blue cords are soaked. The rain washes my stringy hair into my eyes and I can feel the slightest breeze on my face. In these moments there are no worries, I am not home, I am not at school, there are no peers I have my freedom and I am alive.

The slightest scent of sage and rag **** loft in the air and only the laughter that resonates in my mind is louder than the rain against the earth.

The lush green lawns of the area before my home soak up the wetness like vast green sponges and I wonder what a lawn might feel like.

As I near my home anxiety and nervousness rise inside me. My dad is home, he’s not working today, and maybe it’s been a while. I should not have been this wet.

The rain washes the dirt from our yard where grass should be, might have been or one day, I dream, might be. A brown river that matches my own despair runs into the storm drain. So many dreams I think, go the same way.
AC Brooks Oct 2011
I’m unsure,
uncertain,
scared.
What happens next?
That light in the seemingly never ending darkness seems to have diminished; a wavering reminder of where I want to be, who I want to be, who I am seems but a distant fading star. Coldness holds me in this place in this darkness and lonely in this, this life I grasp for what’s real and it falls through my fingers, these stained digits of hopelessness clenching at nothingness.
White knuckled in despair,
I see you.
I remember your touch.
I remember your taste,
the honeyed kiss of your lip,
of your skin
I drink in the sweetness that is you.

The blinds clank against the window and I am startled to a dazed wake.
I rub the last look of you from my eye and swallow the last of your taste…

Again just a dream,

how I wish I might sleep forever….
AC Brooks Jul 2011
To you
To have breathed the same air

To have grown and loved and touched

So lucky in youth

You said I write about love

I say I wish I knew how to keep it

These silly days of letting go and not letting in

So ******* the lovers
We can’t hold on to the kiss

But we can hold on to the heart
We hold on to our chance
Our faith that you, are there
the right one
You are there, and you are looking for me,

I am just below the trees
AC Brooks Jul 2011
Who’s going to take your mind away

tonight

Brown eyed, blue eyed, green eyed devil,

angel

Loneliness has no bounds

Dreamt of you
a dance riddled land
Black silky this and lacey topped that

You smelled of dreams and tasted of desire
Untouched
Oz has no rules

The softest skin has no feeling
Your loveless being
Mannequin dream

music danced in the air between
you and I
This hearts song to your def hearts beat

Seems the suns set, seems my suns set
Seems we have no meaning
Whiskey washed, this hearts dream

A green eyed, blue eyed, brown eyed devils scheme
Your tongue sets me free
Your touch

I will never be free
AC Brooks Oct 2011
As I pull the blade through me
my own clutched hair in hand
life, blood and breath move from me
to weak I cannot stand
not a care I have for you
the mirror speaks so grand
to laugh now I hear you
so far a beastly band
your love I hold before me
in this cold now dying hand
cold steel is my fortune
loves toll takes me from this land
AC Brooks Apr 2010
It seemed fitting that the gray clouds of winter moved in again this morning.
Their imposing march on the city has mirrored the suffocated feelings of my heart today. I’ve pushed you away. The sun dimmed, shut out by the dreary gray, again matching my own emotions. Love, desire, compassion pushed to deep to feel.
Engulfing the concrete and iron at will, the bitter cold bites at the city, it bites at me, and it starts to snow. The flakes, like dreams tossed from the gods, float from the dismal heavens, why can’t I catch one?
The snowy dreams blanket the wintry ground, so many wasted and blown by left to die.
The hum from the highway resonates in the air, a soundtrack for winters grasp, the sad song that plays in our head as we watch love walk away.

Content, your brown eyes, only they have seen me. Your milk white skin and freckle laden body dances in my mind. As if it were but a dream, it seems so long ago that I last touched you.

My closed off heart aches. To weak to let you in I wrap it in self pity and sorrow. I cool its warm center with jaded thoughts and memories of the past. My soul’s winter, created by my own weakness, seems so long, so cold, so alone.

Your name whispered, floats from my lips and into the cold, I wonder, can you hear me?
AC Brooks Jul 2011
It seemed fitting that the gray clouds of winter moved in again this morning.
Their imposing march on the city has mirrored the suffocated feelings of my heart today. I’ve pushed you away. The sun dimmed, shut out by the dreary gray, again matching my own emotions. Love, desire, compassion pushed to deep to feel.
Engulfing the concrete and iron at will, the bitter cold bites at the city, it bites at me, and it starts to snow. The flakes, like dreams tossed from the gods, float from the dismal heavens, why can’t I catch one?
The snowy dreams blanket the wintry ground, so many wasted and blown by left to die.
The hum from the highway resonates in the air, a soundtrack for winters grasp, the sad song that plays in our head as we watch love walk away.

Content, your brown eyes, only they have seen me. Your milk white skin and freckle laden body dances in my mind. As if it were but a dream, it seems so long ago that I last touched you.

My closed heart aches. To weak to let you in I wrap it in self pity and sorrow. I cool its warm center with jaded thoughts and memories of the past. My soul’s winter, created by my own weakness, seems so long, so cold, so alone.

Your name whispered, floats from my lips and into the cold, I wonder, can you hear me?
AC Brooks Oct 2011
he wondered to himself,
quietly,
sitting,
the cold air of a new season sitting on the windows ledge,
how did you know it was you i wanted,
that i waited for,
for so long,
i was the side way walking crab,
afraid you might see me.

now i want nothing more...
how i wait for you in this dream...
AC Brooks Jul 2011
Weakness stares from the mirror,
Sad,
Sunken,
Rubbed out, eyes
Dissecting every move

Judging
Me, my thoughts

How do I know you?

This drunken dance of fate
Of chance
Of doom
A ritual
A ceremony
A sacrament
A habit…
A chance conversation with the one reality that does not escape me

Cue the tears the terrors the trembling hands,
Razors make no noise

Bent to break and sick in the soul
This burden is sure to take its toll

It’s the light,
Now I see
It’s the light that reflects this soul

Turn down
Turn out this light

Take away this burden
This tired
This troubled soul

Take away this being
This thing
This me
AC Brooks Jul 2011
I am as I have been taught.
I want, I crave, I desire.

I am your son your daughter, your late night pink pants with feathers and bonds

This side ways dance, this exasperating prance
This to late for TV glance

What now?
Shaven, cleansed brushed of thought of sight

Taken of these, every day fixes

Am I now not fixed?

Do I not sing the song of your loves true loves lust?

Oh the horror, the thought the predawn hard

Take this and make it yours
This love this is me my love…my fix

Dance in this dark with my new every day fix.
Dance in this my everyday dark.

Selfish you, yours,

Oh this
this is
Love
AC Brooks Jul 2011
these whiskey tales
of love

told tales
love
desire

these things floated
maybe just a breeze

forever cant be seen from youths ignorant heart

senseless beat
broken lies
this heart

tongue twisted tales
yours
of love

this twisted heart
left

cold in this
there are only memories

these wasted whiskey dreams
surely

just drunken tales
AC Brooks Jul 2011
That fake forced smile, so much harder to crack today, sits on your face as if drawn by a carnival face painter. It seems the weight of the world sits on your shoulders; you want to do as Ayn suggested Atlas might do and shrug. The words don’t come easy but you string together false feelings, greetings, forged hellos, and jesters of alliance that have the sincerity of your televised evangelical preacher demanding dollars for your soul’s security. You walk among your peers eyes forward, hiding emotion and grief. Trembling inside you make each step carefully as if gravity itself is God pulling you to your knees.
You try to remember your loves smile as you kissed her good bye. She’s off to start her day. The world at her feet she strides with unfathomable opportunities for her young life. She is the reason you walk and breathe amongst this empty humanity. But even her striking smile, brilliant, brown, glitter laden eyes, and young shimmering skin can’t pull you from this overwhelming failure. Boxed in now, feelings, kind words and well wishers don’t penetrate. The light at the end dims and reason takes foot. Nothing makes sense.
The phone rings, your plastic smile is turned back on, you’ve got a machine to grease.
AC Brooks Jul 2011
a day dreams wake
slow moving soul

broken promise
till death
no longer a part

this wicked wasted dream
so many gone

vacant eye
whiskey scented breath

sun swallowed, the dusk’s clever taunt
wicked wasted day
this day’s dream gone

whiskey emptied bottles
a soul
this souls subtle song

no longer a part
this wicked whiskey song

no longer my heart
in your wicked day dream song
AC Brooks Nov 2011
If I could write music

I would write the symphony that is you
but only the sound of your heart next to mine could play it
only your lips on mine would sing it
and only in your arms could we hear it
AC Brooks Jul 2011
milky white
skin
a freckles skip
tales of love

curled
you’re in my arms
in this time
the world moves forward

your hair falls from your face
my hearts eyes
open
this mornings light

this last kiss
always
one more
kiss

toes
touched
a foots dance
tip toed sheets

finger walked
freckles
tales of love
to many to tell

a dreamers dream
AC Brooks Jul 2011
I guess, sometimes life gets blurred
Everyday drivel
Maybe just me

Who really knows or understands what this , this love is?
This love that love, love of flesh and greed, money and deed….this is our new love.

Is it understanding, or taking every part of your loves love for truth, for the “word”.
Is it taking our loves, loves hand, their heart and placing it in our own?

In these days of our dust, our lust, and our money hungry ways, how could we know love?

We lost our way and we are dredging in the filth of our fathers to find our way

This wall to wall carpet and brown leather chair…is this love?

Is love this twenty dollar bill…
Lip locked and loaded for this days pleasure…

This is how we show love…
Touch this, this way…

Love I think hides behind the eyes
Big brown, blue, green globes of truth…

Wow … where did my globe go?

I want again to know truth; I want to know the warmth of my loves love, the *****, and the heart beat of loves true love.

Or just a drink…
Whiskey
Maybe two
AC Brooks Apr 2010
The snow lofts on the cities cold air. The drenched earth, to cold to drink in the wet, spills pockets of slush and snow onto our paved plastic world. The cold slows the city down and the skirted girls are bundled in their polyester puffed shields. A still, tranquil quietness presents itself and the heat from the coffee escapes the cup much like we might imagine a soul departs its host. With chilled dried hands the vain cover their hair and curse the moist air. The homeless huddle in quiet desperation hoping to fight mother’s winter’s rude return, her warm ***** of summer seems so long gone. My transparent reflection on the glass separates me as I gaze into the gray dismal sky and dream of walks, gloved held hands. Pulled together at the heart, the cold does not pierce loves warm undying barrier. I imagine her porcelain skin, blushed cheek, and red wetted lips as the chilled air crystallizes the sparkle in her sea green eyes. She sees through me. I don’t exist. With empty cup and left tip, I wake from this dream, put on my armor and walk past my life back to where reality and angst wait.
AC Brooks Jul 2011
What inspires me?

A kiss
A touch

I guess the primal feelings the primal emotions…
Hate, greed, vanity… love

Guess discovering the difference, the polarity of each…
I love to love
Hate to hate and am so vain…

I lost the difference.

What replaces touch?
What replaces love?

Hate
Deceit

My god I wanted nothing more than love
We want nothing more than touch

We dance these days to the beat of our peer’s heart…
Forgetting

We belong, we matter…

It might not matter that your eyes dance in my dreams
that your skin was once wrapped around mine

We touched
We were in the same moment and we breathed the same air

What inspires me?

Loneliness

Whiskey
AC Brooks Jul 2010
Grasping at sand,
this dark hole,
this empty being.
this cold lifeless soul.
I see your eyes.
The one I hurt.

Again, again and surely again,
the tears will make play.
With a kind wipe, of your porcelain skin,
I walk, with the last taste of you, away.

With foot drug pace, I am pulled where I belong.
Into myself.
Alone.

Passed from my lips,
with a wishful whisper,
again your name.

Love, has me lost.

— The End —