The World Is Dead
I awoke to an eerie silence-
The sun had not come up,
No birds littered my trees.
Nothing new was born this day.

Unsettled, I opened my door
Too afraid to look at anything-
I blanked all of it out,
Except the floor.

Weeds furled tightly
Around my already sinking ankles.
Ironically, giving me the strength to stand
And face the pain I chose to bear.

There was no point
In taking a single step,
If the world had halted
Where could I possibly go?

Instead, I retreat
But am forced to stand tall.
Reconcile my differences
With God I am at war.

I am not safe,
But I can hide.
Pretend
Nothing ever happened at all.

Perhaps even survive
In a world
That has no meaning
Anymore.

Or take a walk,
And admire the death
Of a thousand wilting trees
All the time smiling contentedly.

It was me that destroyed the world.
I just let go
Followed my storms
Letting the hurricane ensue.

I shall not blame him, or you.
Just pretend I am happy-
Do something different
Make everything new

Forget the past
Deny the future
Hope and pray
There will be another day.

All I ask
Is that I am not obliged to stay.
(Gerry Aldridge © 2017)

Something has left me.
I know exactly what it is
And why it left.

Such a clean cut:
Expected, frontal, yet,
Has taken me aback.

I am lighter:
Logically if a piece of me were missing,
I would feel less weight.

I think you could run a train
Right through me
And it would not reach the end.

As the space inside me grows,
Less of me exists
And I am slowly vaporising.

Emptiness swelling,
The last of me melting
Into a wisp of the never was.

The universe became us
Dissipating the lies
Until the day we are clear, blue sky.

Diving Into You

Diving into,
Basking and even,
Risking drowning in.
Those sensuous folds.
Breathe it in
Make love
With our skin.

More **** than carnal love
Is your smell.
The one I crave,
Beg to absorb
In. deep, long breaths deep in.

The scent of you
Does more to me
Than ever a touch
Has dared to do-
Nothing so far
Has connected me
More to you.

Your scent that lingers
Forever in the air
Testimony to the fact
Of the honesty we share.

Perhaps a stone laid
For the day we dare.

Myself.
I went out,
Stripped naked
To the cold.
And looked at all
The pieces of myself
I had not yet sold.

Satisfied there was
Still enough of me left,
I went back in
To the warmth
And safety
Of my nest.

With such an affliction,
I will have to wait
Until I run out of reality
Before I write fiction.

And with such an addiction
How is there any hope
Of ever ending
This beautiful conversation?

Portuguese version with a slightly different ending :)
«O meu colar de gotas de chuva
Primeira: Porque tens as mãos molhadas?
Segunda: Eu estava a fazer um magnífico colar de gotas de chuva, quando de repente todos os pingos se transformaram em lágrimas.
Primeira: Tentavas criar uma realidade que não poderia existir além do teu sonho.
Segunda: Eu só tentava fazer aquilo imaginado
Primeira: Infelizmente, isso significa que nunca será…

My Raindrop Necklace
Primeira: Why are your hands wet?
Segunda: I was making a beautiful raindrop necklace, when suddenly all the beads turned into tears.
Primeira: You were trying to create something that could not exist outside your dream.
Segunda: I was only trying to make what I had seen.
Primeira: Sadly, it does not mean it will ever be,