I remember the time when I would silently ascend your staircase and try too hard not to trip so of course I did. I would cautiously place my feet one in front of the other approaching your room only to find you asleep, hidden away in dreamland.
I remember the piano sang softly out from the speakers in your phone- lost somewhere with in your covers as well.
I remember I would stand there for a moment and see your peaceful face and even though you had told me to wake you, I always hesitated because I could hardly force you into the cruel reality of this world. I wish you could stay in the land that was blissful and bright, but not too bright. Your face was relaxed and your body curled up and wrapped within blankets and that is the picture I always see when I think of love in its simplest form. Not the love between a man and a woman, but between humans.
The warmth a heart has and the capacity it holds.
The comfort you may find in another warm soul, so inviting.
The love between two humans that is eternal and means nothing other than loyalty and sincerity.
That is love in its purest form.

My thoughts are  LOUD
And silence, --exists still--

Silence kills
It leaves open wounds
That stings as of strong alcohol
Sipped or chugged down

Leaving me to want to sink in
Wanting not to be saved
Wanting to escape this pain
I no longer want to feel

Wanting to break the silence
Every part killing me inside and out
But too depressed to even care
For the hurt that I feel within

The silence screams in the lonely heart.
Terrorizing fears fill the void vessel.
A loyal code with the sly predator.

No one comprehends, no one befriends.
Until the silence speaks with lethal force, no one can prepare.

The wind whispered words powered by popularity.
"If they don't converse with you, they'll converse about you."
The helpless soul flew, yes without wings.
From the concrete jungle, the industrial swing.
In one breath, the silence ended everything.

**Now the next day, they all knew the silent killer.

One day the skies opened up with snow
And one lost elf did not know where to go
He kept going in circles, around and around
But the skies kept putting more snow on the ground

He found himself in a Winter forest, dark and deep
He thought he heard the dead trees start to creep
He imaged eyes gazing like a terrifying light
Or was it the reflection where everything was white

The poor little elf was starting to get very cold
He wish he had stayed home, like he had been told
As more snow fell he began to shiver and shake
So scared that snow monsters might come awake

Suddenly a sound made the poor elf start to yell
He had heard a ringing, a sound of a bell
Then he saw a jolly fat man dressed in white and red
With reindeers that pulled him sitting on a sled

He offered the elf to come and sit by his side
Then they shot up into the sky, it was a special ride
The jolly fat man took the elf home to his mother
He was so happy when he shared the story with his brother

So every year he leaves mince pies and a drop of red wine
Something special for the jolly fat man to dine
He now stays in when it snows, whenever he can
And the once lost elf always remembers that jolly fat man



copyright Chris Smith 22nd December 2009

Merry Christmas to all on Hello Poetry

These four walls surround me,
and I find them watching me,
everyday, and I feel it.

I am fed and I gulp, to live,
I don't know what they give me,
everyday, but I don’t resist it.

I want to be free, to run wild,
even if for only a day,
everyday, I wish it.

I am a hamster in a cage,
In New York, a shop by a park,
everyday, and I hate it.

"One time, me and Steph went to South America and stayed in this motel.  We didn't have much money back then so we tried our best to just have fun anyway.  We stayed at cheap motels across the world, we never stayed there much though so it's not like it really mattered. But, we were in South America this one time and we were on the balcony smoking cigarettes, having coffee at 2 A.M. and reminiscing about our pasts.  She had such a heavy heart. She would tell me with a cheeky little grin "Yeah, I did a lot of bad things I'm not proud of, Tony.  I'm pretty glad I did all those bad things, ya know? Those bad things led me to you.  Those bad things **** well hurt, but they led me to you. Those bad things were worth it, Tony." And at 2 A.M., things always got a lil deep for her because she believed any time past 12 was a time to really think.  So, sometimes she would have a good cry and I'd hold her. I think that memory of us on the balcony in a strange new country having coffee, cigarettes, and chats really stuck in my head because it was a time in our adventure where you could tell things had their pause.  It was a memory that lasted longer than the few hours it actually did.  I still remember the taste of that cigarette and that cup of coffee. I remember the texture of the blanket she had wrapped around her slim, shivering body. I remember how meaningful her innocent tears were.  Yeah, the view was pretty, but I wasn't really concerned about what was beyond that balcony because I was too busy savoring her presence."

The reason why it's so hard for us to get paid and live on our words is because words don't cost us anything to give.

I sit on the street and pass out my writing.
All but a few keep on driving.

Do I just sit here and lock up my poems?
Throw them in a vault and never show anyone?

I sit in the market and pass out my writing.
All but a few keep on talking.

***** it. I don't care if nobody will pause to read.
And I don't care what they say about me, because words are cheap.

I sit on the pier and pass out my writing.
All but a few keep on walking.

Those who dare to sit and read, instead of speak while blind
Will find the value in a stranger's lines
Hidden just underneath.

I sit on a mountain and pass out my writing.
A hiker came by today and did something strange...

He started reading.

I begin to spiral downward with no
Safety net in sight or parachute on
My back. I look up and I see familiar
Faces of people who support me.

My family and friends become my
Ears and eyes, and guide me through
All the ups and downs and roundabouts.
They are my safety net and parachute.

“You can do it!”
“You’re amazing!”
That’s what they tell me every day
As my demons begin to slowly fade.

My demons fight harder and harder;
It’s David versus Goliath, an epic battle.
Good versus Evil, Heaven versus Hell.
My life is chaos and only time will tell.

“Don’t listen to them!”
“We control your life!”
My demons try to control my life and
They push me further into the dark abyss.

I’m free-falling, not the Tom Petty type,
Being ****** in like a black hole in my mind.
Welcome to the Twilight Zone as the light
Begins to fade in and out of my mind.

“Your life is precious!”
“You have so much potential!”
My life and my mind are not my demons’.
They will not control me, not if I can help it.

I realize that everything starts in my head.
I need to stop making excuses and listening to
My demons; they do not determine who I am,
Nor determine the person I will become.

“You can do it!”
“We have faith in you!”
“We believe in you!”
My family and friends break the darkness.

I see a hand as I fall deeper into the darkness.
Outstretched and Heavenly, I reach out for it.
Failing every time, I doubt myself and I begin to
Make excuses telling myself that I can’t do it.

I close my eyes and I tell myself,
“Stop making excuses!”
“You can do it!”
*“Just do it!”

I am awoken by a nagging in my head
its in my mothers voice
the urgency,
I don't know what for, its 5 am.
my submission doesn't speak.
I fill the air with the sound
of my nonsense, a rambling of dreams,
"dont burst the bubble, burst the bubble, burst the-"
a never ending melody.
Because there is nothing louder than this, I have wanted to crawl out of my skin long before I knew it was mine.
And theirs, not mine entirely, composed of DNA so imperfect
even the gods would've laughed.
If you ever want to **** something up to the point its unrecognizable,
give it to me, look what I did to my own potential.
Squander doesn't begin to cover it, almost out of spite.
and i must stop it before it reaches my eyes
it has a certain way of clouding them over
and I just dont want people to realize
that I am swallowing a lump
at the back of my throat
what seems like forever
trying not to get my eyes to burn or
dig my nails deep into someones throat
just to feel their artery and scream
"YOU ******* FEEL IT DONT YOU?
ARE YOU ALIVE? ARE YOU REALLY HERE?
YOU ARE ALIVE, ALIVE ALIVE!."
Then place the sharp bits of my nails
against my skin, hard
and not feel
anything
I struggle with self control
especially with ***
and drugs
and alcohol.

I yell too often, never loud enough to make them hear me.
I am afraid of my own voice
telling people to shut up
Jack knows its not a good thing if I whisper
last time I did I said
"I don't have a pulse, I cant find my pulse."
Before I freaked out and smashed that vase against the wall
and laughed at what a sad broken cliche I have become.
My anger came out in sputtering sobs

And he tried to hold me
because that's what people do in movies
cue the background music
but I didn't let him because I was never any good at acting,

and he never got mad when I hit him
I can hear that "Sshhhh" at the back of
my ear
Forever.
and I could wince at my own humiliation if I gave a ****.
I wont lie it was awkward he sounded scared
"aww dont c-c-ry"
thought I saw a tear there too

Any song can sound sweet,
if you tune your tone appropriately,
and add a lyric,
with a melody
and I have seen where there is a life,
there is a song
but some songs are not only a love song
that notion was a loop, intense, black and blue passionate song
was not romantic

She was a sad song
and I thought I would know how to make it better
like if I could be the only to love her again,
I believed that everything would fall into a melodious love song
but  I lost a few lines of lyrics
and there was bit melody missing that I couldn't find
and I saw too many scratches on the disc
I couldn't let myself be made no longer
trying to fix her entirety.
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen