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Eric Logan Aug 2012
In the late hours that feel like mornings missed
You'll find a mind busying itself with chaotic thoughts;
Shadows of the past, troubles of the present, and dreams of a brighter tomorrow.
The burden has shifted in years past
To grander futures and love yet to live.

Even with the fair change in weather I find sleep impossible.
To have traveled you must have once been somewhere.
From that point I've surely walked far
But the shadows that follow feel impossibly tall.
Every time you shine light unto them, new shadows form.

As a form of survival we do our best to integrate and homogenize.
You wear a smile, try to believe in it, and swallow your pride.
No matter how many times the people who love you try to shine light into your dark corners
You can never quite forget the way a brilliant light fades, and eventually vanishes.

With these pieces of history properly organized in my mind
I can begin to reconcile my experiences with the world around me.
Every person and interaction an opportunity to be an even brighter light to others.
I could do no greater honor to the memories I have of that light
Than to take in it's essence and share it.
That is the closest a human can get to living beyond death
And I plan to live a life worth remembering.
Eric Logan Oct 2010
Natural phenomena make for great metaphorical explanations
Of otherwise indescribable realizations.
When you've reached an epiphany about your own situation
You are dawning upon a new understanding, a new revelation.

And perhaps its this very satisfactory description
That drives poetry as a healthy natural addiction.
Words which could never be expressed with proper diction
Spring to life in pages written as if fiction.

Far too often we find ourselves relating to the feeling of blue
But a color in fiction can feel so much more real and true.
A not so hidden and blunt allegorical, yet personal clue
Banishes our inner animal, and allows us to begin fresh, anew.

What is this community we find in isolation so well described
That encourages others to respond as if obliged?
The common understanding rains as if prescribed
To be the antidote to the gnawing emptiness to which we are subscribed.

Some inner purpose is behind why I rhyme
Driving me to an inner peace that is sublime.
Those who wait for sunny days that are prime
Write poetry, the ultimate victim-less crime.
Eric Logan Sep 2010
A haze.

I'm breathing so heavy.
My eyes are half shut.
Why are my legs so far away?
What is this creeping sensation,
Eating away at consciousness?

A blur.

The world is on mute.
I hear people talking, but they aren't saying anything.
I can hear myself talking, but I'm not saying anything.
Or am I saying things but not really talking?
I just don't know.

A glow.

I can perceive my condition.  Rationalize it.
Shunt my thoughts into a presupposed state.
I know what is weighing down upon my brain,
But the feeling is too fantastic to even begin to care.
Normally I'd be talking, but for once in my life...
I'm content to just listen.

A buzz.

I don't worry any more about what people think of it.
I am expanding my knowledge about reality,
Just by perceiving it differently.
Perhaps I am altering my mind, but I have to ask you,
Is any other form of learning anything else?
We are all modifying our minds, at all given times.
I consider it just a way of igniting that creative flame.

I am ******.
Eric Logan Aug 2012
I came across a flower once, alongside the path I was traveling.
Every photon that bounced off that flower seemed to glow.
I saw the footprints where others had trampled near it.
So I found a new place, somewhere safe to grow.

In time, the gifts I could give weren't enough.
A beautiful plant needs the sun and a place to show.
"To the windowsill, somewhat removed but close."
The rain can sustain you, and from there the sunshine will flow.

Before I knew it, the time was drawing near.
The flower was ready, it's time to go.
I returned that sunflower to the very same road.
To be visited, loved, admired, and to always know.
Yet to live free without any interference.
So that someone else in need might find peace in your roots below.
Eric Logan Sep 2010
Phrases.
We speak in phrases.
Catch-phrases but never release phrases,
And phrases whose meaning are yet unknown.

When in Rome, you do as the Romans do.
Conquering, pillaging, living above the crowd,
Or something like that.
When asked what I mean by what I say,
I've long since learned to stop pretending,
That people will ever understand.

An ideology will forever only be as strong,
As the ideologues and the actions they make.
I dream of a world based in love,
Rather than the pain and suffering it sustains itself in.

Perhaps your entrance back into my life is convenient,
And even a bit over-expecting of me.
But it means a whole lot to me,
That the banner from which you ride forth,
Is white, bearing the mark of peace.
You approach with the intent of love.

Many people in this world expect protection,
From forces yet unseen.
I just as irrationally expect my actions to guide me.
But rather than leave it all to the feelings I hold,
I'm learning that a selfless love is all that will ever set me free.
You give me hope.

If it requires me to be patient,
I plan to see this one plan through.
For far too long I've been flaky,
And afraid to commit to challenges I don't yet understand.
So long as at the end of the day all that remains,
Is that I'll be there, holding your hand.

No explorer ever found anything new,
Until they took that very first step into the unknown.
You are the only person who has yet made me believe,
That blind faith is any kind of virtue.
Eric Logan Nov 2010
I remember that feeling now
The part where things set in just right.
The warmth of your body
Pressed tightly to mine.

For a long time, some years now
I've been searching for that illusive belonging.
Eroding the sense of hopelessness
And bringing me back to life.

It's the silly stupid things really
That endear to me most.
The way you smile, and how your eyes sparkle
Even the way you laugh.

There's something about it all I can't quite place
I'm sleeping so well these past few days
I don't regret waking up when I head out, and
I don't sigh before drifting off early in the morning.

Is this what happiness is like?
It's not like this has even gone far at all
Just one date actually.
Some would say I'm overreacting.

I think it's just the sign of hope really
That inspires me to brighter moods
My temperament continues to improve
Each and every day I get to know you.
Eric Logan Aug 2010
Hello one time lover.
The time sure has passed.
"How have you been? Where do you stay?" I am aghast.

How could it be that we've arrived at this day already?
Was it not enough to haunt me every day and every night?
I spent many hundreds of hours not sleeping over you.
Tossing, turning, and lamenting over what I now see is true.

Try as I may I don't see resolution near,
Face to face with reality, it's your arrival I fear.
What do you say to someone who can't possibly understand?
Do you ignore them? Hold them? Ask them for their hand?
Which choice will be worse; To act or not to act?

I suspect you've prepared yourself for this day, as have I.
Selfishly I'd like to believe you are as unsure and asking why.
There is a sense of terminality in the coming days,
As if the sun itself would stop burning and the stars lose their blaze.
No thing I say or do will change your mind,
And yet I still feel compelled to try.

People like to say that in ten years from now today won't matter.
I couldn't disagree more.
Ten years from now you won't be here to see what is in store.
I will be devoid of your companionship and understanding apprehension.
Your love and never ending empathetic comprehension.

I cannot change the way the wind blows,
Nor can I prevent the way you come and go.
The world has changed, but one things remains still.
I loved you then, I love you now, and I always will.

Goodbye one time lover.
Like grasping sand, herding cats, and bottling a storm,
You continue to evade my grasp.

Everything burns, nobody makes it out alive,
And above all, this feeling will pass.

I hope.
Eric Logan Aug 2010
Perhaps it's hyperbole and a bit cliché
But I'm finding it hard to think of what to say.
I don't know what rhyme or rhythm
Can cure this gaping hole and the schism.
I am changed.

It begins with an honest and open hello
"You know things I'm surprised you know".
The words fail me in times of late
Thinking of how you've taught me to appreciate.
I am changed.

I might be in a sense, over-dramatic
Over-optimistic and enthusiastic.
To which I believe credit is rightly due
To the seed of thought planted by you.
I am changed.

The thought of perspective begins to trouble me
Terrifying to think of all the things that I might see.
But even if we were to part ways this very day
I will forever know and be able to say,
I am changed.
Eric Logan Aug 2010
My name is peculiar and I hide in plain sight
Behaviors irregular, thoughts full of fright
Concealed with nothingness I do declare
That little concerns me but my cold blank stare.
I hide in plain sight.

Few would acknowledge this out of place modality
Yet even fewer would accept the beauty of reality
Pleasant notions press upon my mind
Of a denial of living I've long left behind.
I hide in plain sight.

I watch the crowd so easily blame the frailty
Of the human condition of their own false morality
They blame the future for the past's transgressions
In a logic I've discarded since my own adolescence.
I hide in plain sight.

Marching onward they trumpet their cause
Beating their drums and judging without pause
To challenge them is to draw out their repulsions
A set of reactions that amount to little but convulsions
I hide in plain sight.

I dream of a world ruled not by hate but by love
Without reliance upon the sanction of one above
A land in which the pursuit of truth prevails
And honest expression of discourse unveils, that
I hide in plain sight.
Eric Logan Sep 2010
I cannot help but notice
That I've been here before
Staring
Blankly
At the wide open door.

Your outline glowing
From light obscured
You drift so effortlessly
Out of silence procured
Only to say hello.

Your skin, like lilac
Tenderly inspiring bliss
I chase after
Only for you to leave me behind again.

In your eyes you conceal
A world full of wonder
Your greatest asset, your passion
Loving
Burning
Your fear will be torn asunder.

All I ask is for you to let go
To trust in the things that I know.
To consider all of the things I can bring
And to know that I will love you
More than anything.
Eric Logan Nov 2010
There's a pretentious air
In the way you presume I care.
How could it possibly be fair
To treat brother like mare?

To pass on your obligation
Is to inspire my frustration.
The thoughtlessness and abdication
Resumes hateful thoughts of vindication.

One asks not for reparation
Or from friendship a vacation.
Just a token of creation
Of an equal-footed communication.

I won't hold grudges, or hate
But you've been tense as of late.
You've been jumping my words to conflate
The words for your anger I use to negate.

Could you just chill out?
Nobody is out to get you.
It's hard to be a friend
When even enemies get more respect too.
Eric Logan Aug 2010
Excuses
I've spent so much time living in excuses
Talking about love but thinking of uses
Dancing around the idea of understanding
But insisting, resisting, and being demanding
Nothing but excuses.

Adversity
For so long I've pretended to suffer adversity
Crushing, caving, into the depths of uncertainty
"You'll never leave this town"
"You'll never accomplish any of your dreams"
**** them.  How can anyone know the real me
More than I, the real me, know the real me?
I'll show them adversity.

Apathy
If I've ever known a greater pain it's a lack of accomplishment
Knowing you could have done better
But instead you're back in the lab wishing the way things could have been
I don't know if time passes us by, or
If we really just never found ourselves moving again
I think I know the future
Though I'm too afraid to realize it
But that will change.

Loneliness
If life were as simple as a computer interface
I could point at you and click
I could drag you into the recycling bin
And bring you back again
But life requires more than mouse and keyboard
It necessitates mistakes and learning from remorse
We learn through trial and error to separate truth from fiction
But my mistake has caused this painful interdiction
I will move on.

Resolution
Like everything we've ever learned in this short life
Our only opponent stares us straight in the mirror
Not one person is the master of my future
But my mind, and using it to see the world clearer
I will change the world.

I will change the world.
Eric Logan Oct 2010
Like a vampire
This feeling ***** up
All of the life.

It creeps upon me
And rests inside me
Perpetuating strife.

It's not your fault.
You couldn't have known.
It just makes me sad.

All of those memories
My entire life
I miss you dad.
9-9-05

We miss you.
Eric Logan Nov 2010
There is an aching within my bones
A sense of lacking for which I must atone
Thoughts of timelessness in truth and reality
Supplanted by a faith in thoughts that have gravity.

Pass the torch from which passion burns
And fulfill the emptiness for which my mind yearns
Give the shattered ego thoughts of contradictions
Spurning ever forward understanding as it's jurisdictions.

Walk forth through brimstone and flame
The husk of my body in which thoughts become tame
Growing knowledge becomes less and less sufficient
A testament to the love I find within me deficient.

Back and forth the extinguished lantern swings
Throwing darkness upon all of the lighted things
Knowing not when to feel the warmth of love
Gnawing inwards from the lack thereof

Time will only tell if this feeling should subside
Or if the strength of passion will ever abide
To press onward to a bright tomorrow
Lest I spend eternity pondering the meaning of sorrow.
August 17th, 2010
Eric Logan Aug 2010
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

How many hours have passed?
She's taken a thousands breaths
On a couch in another room, another world.

I wonder what she dreams of.
Is she sad? Is she glad? Or is she mad?
Breathing alone never really told her tale.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

It's getting late. Or is it getting early?
The hours are growing shorter before I must wake.
An insomniac's night quickly becomes light.

When you can't sleep, you aren't alone.
A million sounds normally tuned out become music.
A gentle cacophony against the light ambiance of machinery.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.

I've been trying to sleep for five hours.
Eighteen thousand moments of silence.
Eighteen thousand moments of reflection.

The sun is rising, and hopes of sleep are fading.
The world is waking, and I'm finally drifting.
My eyes are nearly shut, it is time for rest.

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Toc-

Alarm.

Time to do it all over again.

— The End —