It's telling looking through
the window’s eyes ; 
a room with a paling grey glass view
befogs the clouds reign inside the storm
Often feeling misbegotten regret
for the unfiltered passing glimpses,
whetstone honed and splayed ;
raw hues of a latent life exposed

There's an uncertain hidden shame
in the unheard truth
starving out in the cold;
dwelling in a petrifying silence
of a common hunger
the lonely do ache
  
Merciless hunger pangs
manifest and shake
with an unrelenting bitter taste ;
loneliness grapples and grips
like a silent earth quake
rattling a rib caged heart — writhing
as Autumn bares the trees
  
A jagged ambiguous fault line
ripples through the hollow echo ;
a bolt of lightning caught in a bottle
strikes — silently contained
swallowing the unspoken words
in a greater good

This broken merry-go-round
keeps turning round and round;
the great mandala spinning on
like a worn out hamster-wheel
without a conscious trace
of going anywhere out there

The place you come from
is gone when you leave it —
even if you really never
feel you were from anywhere
but a thousand unmarked mileposts
from out here somewhere adrift;
a pilgrimage towards understanding
why sometimes I don’t know
if I know who I am — or could have been —
waiting on a threadbare prayer

One-day the winds of change
will shapeshift — bye and bye ...

"When the light that's lost within us
reaches the sky"


Jesse Stillwater

November 2018

She Sleeps
in a bed
of second hand
dreams.

surrounded by

raggedy Anne
romances
of no
depth or
consequence.

she is
a poem with
no ending
clouds with
no sky.



she sits

waiting for

heaven or hell

to finally

be done

with her.



maybe
someday
love will
give it
back.

the
key.

to the
place she
locks
all of her
secrets,

and hides

all of

her heart.

but not
now,

her broken
heart stands
alone,

the reaper.

watching,

while she
sits still


offering
only gentle
whispers.

of lonely

one way
conversations,

with empty

bottles

of wine

tonight.

I begged you
to unweave me from the confines
of this limited plane
and restitch me into
the richness of your tapestry

Instead you unearth my twisted roots
from the sanctuary of your soil
drain my crimson petals
unmoved as I whither away

I scatter desolation
a marred and stagnant bloom
Your unrequited love is conveyed
through the bitter winds of desertion

Autumn comes again, with her bare arms,
the depths are hiding deaf fountains of smiles,
the cold rains and fog wandering in the farms,
the warm sunrise was expelled, so he cries.

The secrets of waterfalls that carries their name
are reading my bitter soul as an empty shell,
my tears are flowing to extinguish the flame
of the clouds from heaven... so they tell.

I wonder if my heart will slow down in time
until the dawn of old age that puts a spell
on the sunrises and sunsets, in the meantime
I can take over the duties of the fall as well.

Until then, I remain an insomniac in motion.
Until flowers grow into the heart. I will not surrender.
I'll try over and over again, until tears make an ocean.
Tell me... when I'm going to meet my life's defender?

Totally shrouded in stark memories,
within the walls of echoing voices;
My bones are chilled and frozen now,
while remembering painful choices.

The sunlight fading into dusk,
with purple streaks of a bitter sky;
As one final ray of amber light,
gently streams into my tearful eyes.

The porch where love had been professed,
lay paint-chipped and desolate in gray;
My words are stuck inside my throat,
I struggle but there's no more to say.

And while the Autumn breezes blow,
through the bronzed and wistful trees;
Their sighs will carry our old sweet song,
among the damp and trembling leaves.

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor

Every couple of days.
She comes around.
She claims to not like me.
She looks the other way.
When she needs me
She knows where to find me.
Reaching with open arms.
When no one is around she professes her love.
There is no other.
She breaks my heart.
The start of another week.
She claims to not like me.
She calls late night.
Apologizing for what she's done.
I never felt so bad.
It's coming to an end.
In another couple of days.
Things'll be back the same.
The same old same old.
Both our selfish ways.
She knows where to find me.
I have no clue where she is