When my mother died
her head was empty
as a metropolitan museum
presenting a special
exhibition of nothingness.

I can only hope that
she enjoyed the final show.

I know I didn't.

   ~mce

Bears lions tigers, thieves swindlers liars, your soul burns to feed hells fires, but thats not widely known, sorta like the feelings not being shown, a trip to the other side on my own, told me if I respected life I would leave it alone, but this addiction has grown, can't even hear my soul moan, a king being overthrown, what it feels like anyway, waiting on death any day, I'm a lost cause is what so many say, just a nod and okay, followed by whats the next play, and did you know the last called just the other day, told me I could be saved if I would just pray, hung up and threw that book away, I guess I should stop because this isn't making sense anymore, passed out with my soul covering the floor, woke up to death at the door, asked if I knew what was in store, I'm sorry if this is a story you've heard before, I truly do not mean to bore, the vast emptiness in my eyes is something they just can't ignore, I remember when this trip **** was nothing more than a key to unlock the doors in my mind, came stumbling back but sadly I left myself behind, maybe its something I will one day find, but til then its one tripped night after another, for my past sins my future self will surely suffer, started searching for death right after we buried my brother, I know one day my memory will be gone like yesterday, tomorrow isn't promised is what I've heard many say, but I just keep abusing life anyway, waiting on death any day, the root of this madness is quite simple if you would just look, just another page in yet another book, under the weight of the world you never shook, on that cold november night my idol isn't the only one death took, because I was right by his side, told him I was always along for the ride, even after me they still won't decide, the nights I cried, all the times I lied, and after all this time I still haven't tried, but we both know thats not a truthful line, but I swore I would never surrender mine, but I was at such a dark place at the time,

Memories of late night rendezvous at the park, now we're no more than strangers in the dark, when you look back at your life will I have left a mark, because you were the only thing holding my life together when I wanted nothing more than to tear it apart, if you've seen your end where do you even start, will I just be another faded memory gone with the breeze, can you tell me how the ******* replaced me with such ease, screaming to an empty sky death take me away please, I wonder if you know that you will always have my heart, don't you see it  was yours from the very start, looking to my side I can't believe what I'm seeing, tears fell as I watched you fleeing, you looked me in the eyes as you lied and destroyed every fiber of my very being, honestly I know I can survive without you in my life, but to do so each dark day must end with a tripped night, knowing all to well that each trip has the potential of becoming a one way flight, in my darkest hours you were my only source of light, thoughts of you and the life we planned were the only reasons I had the strength to fight, with a pen in hand the future was ours to write, but that was before I discovered all the lies hidden just out of sight, to be honest I almost decided to join him the very next day, I'm an addict that's prone to self loathing and heartache what more can I say, I know i have only myself to blame for my life going this way, I knew the chances I was taking all to well when I began this journey, but I never even imagined you being the one to burn me,

Are those parts of my folly?
Those words that I carve to end up with a poesy
I love my hobby in a way that it's kicky
In a sense that in this world, I am free

That a pauper can be a hero daily
For in reality, those events happen in paucity
But it's my wish that this occurrence will not be of perpetuity
For most of the poor possessed a heart of humbly

But really, of most battle poor can hardly get the victory
But it's always to them belongs my sympathy
That If only I got the key to end up their poverty
I will not think twice, simply I'll set them free...

Written: June 30, 2001 @ 8:12 am

Mysterious Aries

Words threaded are no better than dirt
If no one could feel the emotion of joy and hurt
If human heart metamorph into stones
How could a sparkling poem will hit home?

Seems poet dwell beneath the surface of the ground
Watering each other plants, praising each other sound
With instinct to prevent extinction, in order to continue to roam
But if we are on the underground, how could we hit home?

Doing both selfish and selfless acts
Photographer of fictions and facts
Every detail of life during white and gray
Hopefully, the images we captured will hit home someday

10/16/2015

Mysterious Aries

The door framed
Her silhouette;
The only light
Casting in
The window
From the moon.
A hand held
To her lips,
But it was so dark,
No one could tell.
All they could see
Was the gentle bob
Of her head
And shake
Of her shoulders
As silent sobs
Coursed through her.

The door framed
Her silhouette;
And the night
Played a symphony
Of sounds--
The crickets
And frogs
Each greeting the next
As the cicadas chirped
Their own Hellos
In reply to
The wolf's lone howl--
Which masked
Her gasping breathes
As she lost control
Of her tears.

The door framed
Her silhouette;
And she fell to her knees
Unable to stand
Anymore
While the weight
Of her world
Pressed with great might
Until she cried Mercy
And surrendered.

The door framed
Her silhouette;
And I could only
Watch in the mirror.