Liam: Favorites

Jun 2014 Liam

Evelynn Hohenbrink

I miss you at times like these
when I'm getting ready for bed
like you should be here when I lay down...
just falling asleep with me

I miss you at times like these
where your scent lingers on my jacket
on my clothes
in my mind

I miss you at times like these
when I hear your name
and find that it was in reference
to somebody else

I miss you at times like these
when even from a distance
you still manage to make me
laugh and smile

I miss you at times like these
when I wake up in the middle of the night
and you're not there
your arms not surrounding me
in comfort and warmth

I miss you at times like these
where I can still feel your chest
your steady breathing
as you rest beneath my head

I miss you at times like these
when my body aches for yours
with only memories to recall
the stolen moments

I miss you at times like these
when I think of you
and my heart can't help but
skip a beat

I miss you at times like these
when I'm alone
and I don't want to be.

I miss you.

Jun 2014 Liam

Say It

Jun 2014 Liam

Evelynn Hohenbrink

Say It

Should I say it?
Should I wait?
My feelings flow quite easily,
but these questions are much harder.

God knows it's a sin to dare say it first,
but I can't help and almost say it
every time we say goodbye.
I know that's probably really bad,
but I don't care
Because with you....
no one compares.

I also can't help but doubt
that I could possibly keep you.
I mean, with all the obstacles in our way
it's not like we should be together now...
but we don't wait.
I can't wait.
It's literally impossible at this point.

I want to say it.
Because I know I'll mean it.
But uncertainty makes one hell of a delay in the process.
I don't know if you actually feel just as strongly.
And that scares me.
It does with you more than anybody else.

Maybe I'm just kidding myself for wanting to say it.
For feeling this way.
Because I shouldn't,
but I do.
And there's not a **** thing I can do about it,
until we're face to face, that is.

I want to say it
but I shouldn't.
I want to say it
but I can't.

Should I say it?
Should I wait?
My feelings flow quite easily,
but these questions are much harder.

I love him.
Don't tell anybody.

Jun 2014 Liam

Flowers

Jun 2014 Liam

Joshua Haines

Flowers

I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.

Jun 2014 Liam

A Definition

Jun 2014 Liam

River Raras

A Definition

Art:
Bending or breaking a set of rules
Until the broken system
Finally resembles you.

Jun 2014 Liam

I, insomniac

Jun 2014 Liam

Sia Jane

I, insomniac

I think sometimes,
darkness falls
&
we are in it, regardless of
circumstance or event,
regardless of whether
we are adored, loved, graced
& promised.

Pain isn't external,
it sits deep in me,
a lump in my throat,
an echo in my chest,
&
it is real
&
raw
& it digs.

It removes any of the joy,
flattery, content others
may take for granted.

It buries deeper
&
deeper.

Right to the core,
the soul.

It screams
&
silences your whispers.

I wish to sleep
& I fear I may not be able
to keep on top of
the endless digging.

Deeper.
Each hour that passes.
I tell myself sleep is for the weak.
A mental battle between my own mind
&
reality.

I crave the rest yet I,
detest the fear.

Sleep has become an enemy.
Bitter sweet.
Compassionate yet punishing.

I lie there some nights, waiting.
It is incessant most nights.
I fight the need to sleep.
I can cope without sleep.
Days at a time, of course.

I can exist on the air I breath
&
little else.

And so they fade, one into another. I lose sense of reality or the realistic patterns of life. I exist in my bubble & as much as it is hell, it is a cocoon of detachment. Feared but lost within this mind.

Insomnia is the bully. It has tortured me since my teens. Who knows if its lingering presence will ever liberate me, my mind, my joy, my life or my dreams.

Hope is a cynicism at these times. All the love & praise & wonder I am presented with on this thirty second birthday could merely be lost in a nightmare of what is most probably my own making.

The ******* within me always seems to win this war.
We have a love hate relationship
&
we have for many many years.

© Sia Jane

I haven't been around but hopefully I am back now I have applications out of the way. You can always visit me: www.facebook.com/Siajanewords

This is from last year, and the battle I can still have, with insomnia.

Jun 2014 Liam

In the mirror

Jun 2014 Liam

r

In the mirror

I had a father,
he was a kind man.
I'm not the kind of man
he was.

I try hard,
sometimes I fail.
I still look for him
in the mirror.

He fought two wars;
didn't make him strong.
He did that on his own;
he fought his own wars.

Looking back
now that he's gone,
I have to stop and wonder
what was in the water.

My old man
was the kind of man
that someday I hope to see
in the mirror.

r ~ 6/14/14

\●/\
| My old man. Happy Father's Day.
/ \

Jun 2014 Liam

On Becoming A Redwood

Jun 2014 Liam

Sjr1000

On Becoming A Redwood

How this could have
happened I will
never hear again
but it happened
all the same
exactly this way.

I was walking in
Prairie Creek
surrounded by my
soon to become silent
companions
when I noticed
events so
strange.

I dug my feet
into the dirt
they soon dissolved
and roots were
sprung
a nervous system extending into
the soil, oh the sounds the
smells I felt.

Where my skin once was
bark began to emerge
my fingers became tiny
clones of myself
each speaking different
tongues I could not comprehend
I made out these
words "our time has begun. "

I became a Buddha
on the road
a three quarter
smile on my lips
as my body grew
towards the sun
a thousand years
was now mine
and to it I did
succumb.

I watched the
generations pass
Christs come and
go and come again.
It all meant nothing
to me at all
as long as I have
this fog that nourishes
me and creatures living
in the canopy.

I stand at peace
for centuries
a thousand years
and still my life
is a five minute
dream filled with all
possible intensity
and former attachments
as the impermanence
of the illusion of
time was plain
to see
as human lives whirlwinds of
experience
dust devils
blew by me.

Lightening and fires burned me
but I survived.

Now that I stand in
this silence
lost in the meditation
of dreams
a solitary tree
the last standing
a brand new species
born of evolutions breeding
runs on the ground
dancing on my grave

I remember that
first day
the beginning of my
thousand year awakenings
I think it was only
yesterday.

Jun 2014 Liam

Adroit

Jun 2014 Liam

PrttyBrd

Adroit

You are an artiste
painting with words
shading with wit
coloring with vocabulary
and adding texture with subtle metaphor

There is melody in the emotion
elicited between the words
between the very letters
that you weave into the heart
into my heart.

3D pictures forged in the mind's eye
tacked to the soul
with each line
with each word
with each letter

You are an artiste

61414

#art #joy #emotion #talent #artist #artiste

Jun 2014 Liam

prototype

Jun 2014 Liam

a m a n d a

prototype

confused by the specimens
of my life
the cross-sections
on display
lined up neatly
for me to mull over
in the dark.

#life #time