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 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Psychosa
The quiet star once sang to the moon.

It sang of her beauty;
It sang of her light.
It sang of the way she filled the night.

Through the galaxies,
the quiet star sang.

Its voice was of warmed milk and honey,
putting even the moon herself to rest.

Yet the moon belonged to the sun,
and the quiet star was only a song once sung.
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
cder
Do not approach me
for the use of my body;
I am more than that.
Standing in a sea of people
As a lone island
Floating around
In the endless nothingness
Drifting away and drowning
Falling apart
And piecing yourself back together
Over and over
And over again
Every single second of the day
Wishing for it to all stop
Helplessly knowing
Nobody will ever hear
Your silent cries
...
Noone could ever save you
Because how could they
Ever save you
From yourself
...
It's hearing yourself talk
And move
And smile
Maybe even laugh
But knowing
It's all an act
With noone to yell "cut"
At the end of the scene..
Because your whole life
Has become a giant play,
Where there could be
A thousand people
And a thousand lights,
There could be a thousand claps
And a thousand great nights
Still all the while
You'd be a thousand times lonely
Drowning in the lights
Drowning in the laughter
Drowning in yourself
All because
You've become too good
At acting
Like you could swim
...
Depression is killing yourself
Slowly
Every day
Every minute
Every single second,
From the inside out
Because you don't know
Who you are anymore
Except for an empty body
Defining disappointment
And a burden
And a void of fake
All wrapped in one.
...
Depression is Loneliness
Depression is Acting
Depression is Drowning
But most of all,
Depression is Me.
Excerpts from a journal entry a while back. I forgot I even wrote this as I hate going back and rereading my own material but I found it and it described how things have been lately. It hasn't been edited but some parts have been edited out... feel free to leave your thoughts.
Life has its valleys but it has its peaks too even if you can't see it, so keep holding on. And if you ever need someone to talk to I'll always be here to throw you a lifeline...

(Front page 9/16/17)
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Elemenohp
I watched you fade away,
At a quicker pace
Than the bruises you left, on my body.
The distant hollow of the high mountain pass
swallows the setting sun as it steals away southbound
behind the coastal mountain's tangerine sunset hued silhouettes
Mulberry plashed shadows pointing northward
across the evergreens outstretched dimming,
beneath the waning fade of each fleeting eventide

Sundown ebbing asunder the wafting daylight,
each gloaming of the day, helplessly a moment sooner past,
transfixed further south beyond yesterday's passing azure
The lazy days of summer escape unbounded,
nomadic as the sea I've seen sail away before;
evanescent as the beauty of the bloom summer days beheld
and the memory of the fragrance they exhale

The nebulous weight of the gravity is consciously denied
by the truths a human heart beholds
A moment’s epiphany afflicts like a rogue wave in a calm sea;
the only thing my heart ever wanted remains out of reach

Everything my heart needs consciously surrendering
to the poignant passing moment's beauty,
the falling sun at distance sets more suddenly now
Lost in the undeniable certainty
life's imminent season's change

Eyes drawn stubbornly from presence to a sky so far away,
knowing there'll be no restitution for the welling sense of loss...
A bitter sweet song mummers in the silence of the absorbing spell,
summer's sun stained pages of watermarked soul scribbles,
time tattooed reparation for the indelible ache
of a harsh grey winter loneliness

Perhaps too familiar, this whelming Déjà vu
that tears my soul;     that tugs at these roots
but cannot sever their sacred grasp
But for now, eyes fixed to the sun's
inevitable tightening tether hence —
to wear weary each fraying thread's  impending break

Each sunset leans a deeper angle southward
as it slips down through the firwood shadows;
illuminating other faraway latitudes
far beyond the distant horizon skies

The preordained continuum unfolding what will be ...


someone you used to know ... September 11, 2017 ... 7:30 PM
the hands of time*
do tick on by
in the process years
passage quickly by

our clock's cogs
speedy of haste
there's not a spare
minute to waste

a youthful soul  
racing along
then into old age
comes a final gong

the hands of time
do tick on by
in the process years
passage quickly by

life's every moment
strikes a chime
until they reach
a conclusive prime

days on the rapid  
circuit decrease  
as momentum's lap
will so cease

the hands of time
do tick on by
in the process years
*passage quickly by
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
nivek
challenged
called out

I would rather be hated
than falsely loved

Pray my art, my feeble attempts
at poetry

leaves you feeling
discomfort

that way I would be honest
and you would agree.
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