In the shadow of these city life
your shine gets dimmer
and your beauty seems duller.

In the midst of these city lights
your nothing but a shadow who
follows
the mundane rules
neglecting you dream
to create.

Some nights
the moon throws its light
like an old man
who can't hold his liquor in
and spits blood in the morning

Someone ought to kick some sense
into me, if they did I'd hum
like the body of a fiddle

I propose we all strip down
and take a swim with my friends
the dragonflies, but no one will listen
to what I have to say when I throw my voice
like an empty bottle deep in the forest

When I think of all the dark
and swift things of my rivers,
I wonder why time the old boot -
legger hides his maps and goes
on traveling the low roads

Alone I can tell you there is so much
beside the point of the thorn of the rose
and why the moon is with me always
whenever i choose to go it alone

I drink from that blue jar of time
and breathe the breath of sweet infants

Believe you me the dead shepherd
we sent up the river in a faraway land
in a time so long ago still holds us
all by the holes in his hands

You can see the dark clouds up ahead,
my cloisters I am always walking through them
with you children of the lost dreams,
and with you fifty-something snow-headed men

We have just collided with our lost sons
on the high road of morning, we are rising
dust like the dirt on our children's graves
saying nothing to our brothers the stones.

Back into the car
I watch you walk away
A few minutes pass
My niece is crying.

I think inside I am too,
I already miss you.

day one: you asked me if i was okay as i tried to hide the tears that were spilling down my face. i looked at you and my heart stopped right there and whispered, "hello old friend, I've been waiting for you"

day two: i woke up to a good morning text. i knew this was the beginning.

day three: we threw rocks in the river and you laughed as i slipped off my shoes in the dark and waded into the ice cold water. i told you how it made me feel alive to have it biting at my skin

day four: you told me it was a bad idea, that we weren't allowed to do this as your kisses led there way from the nape of my neck to the horizon of my lips

day five: i realized how beautiful you were when you spoke about the things you loved, how your smile threatened to consume your whole face.  but i also realized how beautiful you looked when you talked about the things that hurt, the things that you would never forget no matter how hard you tried

day six: i thought i would know you forever, in whatever sense that meant, i thought you would stick around. i realized how delusional this sounded after six days of knowing you. but you said you would stay.

day seven: the urge took over and i gave it all to you. every secret my body held, the words spilling off my tongue and into the space between us like a waterfall. like i said the urge took over and i gave it all to you.

day eight: you didn't value me enough to even whisper an explanation.

day nine: we were a story cut off mid sentence. with no happily ever af....

I saw your face in a crowded place
The rest were just shadows and a blur

Your head carried high
Your wandering eyes
Strangers lips no longer smile
But when I look closely yours were

**DRAFT

I'm that record player that keeps going on,
Playing the same old, outdated song.
I'm sorry.
All my poems spout the same cliches now.
Hell, I'm the embodiment of those cliches now.
I don't know why I'm suffering from the disease
Years after my exposure to patient(s) zero,
But here I am, sick, bed-ridden and sleep-deprived,
Scratching sores I thought had long healed up.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I don't see colour anymore,
Just the monochromatic shading of decay.
I don't know how to pull myself back up again,
Can't remember how I did it the first time.
I was a ticking time bomb without even realising it,
And I don't even know if I've exploded yet,
Or if this is just the precursor, the countdown
To ripping apart everyone in my vicinity.
I'm sorry.
They say pain makes for the best artists, the best art,
But I'm too repetitive to make anything good.
Even the violent strokes of red have turned dark grey,
And they get darker the further down the abyss I go,
Where the darkness is so dense that light can't penetrate,
And I don't see the nightmares that have come back.
I'm sorry.

If you hate me
          Or
You like me
       Both are
In my favour
Because.
If you like me
I'm in your heart
If you hate me
I'm in your mind.

I was loved but never cared for
I was adored but never maintained by
I was touched but never really played

And when his love has moved on to another
What once was adored, now left in the corner
Can I ever play a melody, how I wonder

After what seemed a thousand centuries
Ages that never came to end
Reason beated sentiment
My will is strong again

Recovering from my damnation
After months of infinite pain
My power to let go
Finally made its effect

In my heart, I knew it all along
I did not know when, or how
But the end of it was coming
It was happening after all

Finally the day has come to say
Goodbye, silly heartbreak fool
We won't meet again
You're no longer in the spotlight
And you won't be again
I speak directly to you and this time I'm not flying
Every bit of my dignity is firmly standing

Give me peace in mind
To prepare for newer days

Give me a little challenge
Not to change,
But strengthen ways

Give me some respect
And I'll return you the favour

Give me a little time
And one day I will no longer
Hate her

But I everything I ask,
as simple as it may be

It will never be handed over
Because nothing is for free

When I have next to nothing
You won't hear me complain

I help others, praying
Others will soon do the same

This world unkind
Yet we write our own destiny

So I keep my strong smile
Because happiness is ahead of me

I never witnessed a kiss
a holding of hands
arms around shoulders

I never experienced
a Mother and Father
in unity

I suffered lack of sight
and suffered deeply
a wounding

Some poets here
namely true orphans
I give this poem to.