Aléxandros Goré: Favorites

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Forecast

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Pushing Daisies

Forecast

Where has the tide gone?
Why does it no longer,
Form a pool around my feet,
And send my aching body,
Into a fragile glass like state?

Where has the rain gone?
Why does the water,
Not fall from the parting clouds,
And crash down upon,
My broken bones?

Where has the wind gone?
Why does it no longer,
Wrap it's wrath around my core,
And wind so tightly,
Around my vacant soul?

Where has the sun gone?
Why am I left alone,
In the absolute darkness,
Unable to feel warmth,
Diffuse across my skin?

Why can't I feel pain?

Why am I so numb?

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Sunshine

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Pushing Daisies

Sunshine

I miss you,
More than the infinite,
Timeless number,
Our hearts cannot define.

I miss you,
The waves of efficient,
Self worth you gave me.
The feeling of clarity,
You stretched out,
across the shore.

I miss you,
Now the wind has changed,
And you no longer,
See me as who I know,
I could be.

I miss you,
Being your namesake sunshine,
Now I blend,
With the greyest skies,
And you just lie,

You just lie.

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Interjected

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Pushing Daisies

Interjected

You tell me,
I need to breath,
As you watch,
My rib cage heave.

There's comfort,
In your clouded eyes,
But I ignore,
Your feeble cries,
It's pity lined,
With bitter lies.

You tell me,
I need to breath,
I hold my breath,
And watch you leave.

*you tell me,
I need to breath,
And suffocate,
My self belief.

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Picture book

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Pushing Daisies

Picture book

I like to watch them,
as they fold gently,
Into newly found realms,
Of softened happiness.
Scents of lavender,
and milkweed,
Blaming their aches,
Until they fade away.

I am selfish enough,
To seek comfort in them,
I am selfish enough,
To pretend I am part of them.

Part of this ever growing bubble,
That is verging on delirium.

But I am not,
I know I am not.
This I hope,
Will be unnoticed.

It's easy to mimic,
Or fake your behaviour,
If the outline of what,
You hope to achieve,
is merely,
A heartbeat away from you,

It's easy to colour,
between the lines,
Even if my pencil,
is shaded melancholy blue.

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Waste

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Pushing Daisies

Waste

I am your paper plane,
Soaring gently through,
The thermal winds.

Gradually losing momentum,
Being crushed by the force,
Of your atmosphere.

Our love is crumpled,
Even before I hit the pavement.

I am your paper boat,
Sailing soothly across,
The hidden tides.

Slowly beginning to sink,
Down deeper into the murky water,
Your raindrops creating a swell,
A tidal wave of depression.

Our love is unrequited,
You'd never cry for me.

I am your paper kite,

Your paper bird,

Your paper rose.

Each object useless and fragile,
Easily broken and destroyed.

Yes - they may be beautiful, some more than others.

But ultimately they can be discarded.

Ultimately I am not beautiful.

Each object can be remade again,
All you need is another piece of paper.

And I guess that's all I am to you,

A worthless piece of paper.

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Gone

Jul 2014 Aléxandros Goré

Hilda

Gone

Time hath ceased.
All clocks stopped.
Where you passed by
in dew kissed meadow,
void of thy presence.
We hear no more
at our door
thy gentle knock.
After thy passing
and before
persistent loud cry
of Whip-poor-will.
Now that is still.

Silence.

**~Hilda~

— The End —