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Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
Sulking decay that brought me dismay...
Know that I address you not:
Not by the sun that glistens
Or the skies that gleam...
But simply due to the epitome of discontent.
I am not your slave,
I am not your toy.
I am thinking man.
A man quite capable of life,
Life, that you seek to rob so many of.

What you are, is something keen;
Something vile and agile that roams the earth.
Demon? I can't say...just all things wrong
That beckon heaven to resent it
And even hell to spit it out.
You are obstinate.
You are warm.
You are comfortable
Because you are death...
Standing still in fear of life,
You tempt humanity to join your plight
But I see what you are...
I've felt you crawl down my spine...
I've felt your gentle hands caress
This face I've asked the shadows to hide.

No...I won't bear your plague,
I won't accept your reality;
Dear, Bitterness, you are not mine.
Miguel Ponton Aug 2010
We'll spend our days in writing...
Throw away the warm nights.
We'll wander the earth wondering,
If we're ever meant to be alive.
Will I call out to heaven...
Crying, tears as knives to those below,
"Did you not hear me the first time?
No charming third or second hopes...
Was I meant to live and cringe at
The image of true love..."

Imagine if there's no magic
To connect these weary minds.
Imagine if it's a bit more tragic,
Like spilling guts on cold floors.
My name was known once as dreamer...
Now it's a chuckle-short of dull.
My name was known to have meaning
To someone whose eyes are so full.

And if I could call out to heaven...
Crying out, as loud as the thunder:
"If You won't help me,
I'll help myself...
Please tell me,
Where can I find You now?"

Regret, my shiny vision...
Glistening like a midday sun,
Undo the man you see before you
And make him wish he was alone.
Regret, this deep incision...
You slice right past my bone.
Now limp, I still search for
That heaven,
That hides between every crack.

And as I call out to heaven...
With my hands frail,
My vision blurred:
"You are not what they say You are...
You're always that thing I can never know.
Your thoughts always evade me,
Yet as I see You, I call you 'Lord'."
If I could just build a kite...
So You could strike me with
Your word.

Electrify this one night...
Show me what all this pain was for.
Miguel Ponton Nov 2012
Treasure hunter's madness; a lost unkempt fury
That torments once sane minds to revel in the theory of the chase-
Once strong men, now leveled at the sight of it,
A long-winded soliloquy:
Have their hopes dissected in autopsy
And ultimately, surgically...removed.
We feel right for chasing dreams, but what seems
Like the very aspect of innocence is a dead body
Mauled by some bears a bit too accustomed to Time.

Man wages wars with calloused hands,
Because heat, blood, and sweat mix till corroding.
In it's defense, this body forges armor
That only goes soft in the comforts of dull times.
My hands feel like brick, in the sparked moment
Of spontaneous adaptation.
An Anomaly, that I can be,
Has become the very face I can't help but to wear.
For we were madmen to leap forth and attempt to claim
What was lost to dust and gravity...
The curse of romanticism made sure
That...we didn't stand a chance.

So...
A dead man holds a dead weight
In the middle of a gold mine.
Had he the mind to look up for a second-
His misery would there on...persist.
Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
Lines that find odd places to go on your face,
The plot we've revised and moments we'll hold
Not to waste.
How hard we've tried, sealing seconds
Covered in the disgrace...
A year in limbo, shouting guesses at a wall.

I can't know you, figuring you out kills me;
Every new bit of info drags me into
A chasm that makes short of my will.
Drowning further till no light can reach...
Shivering cold depths where the pressure
Crushes bone.
I've searched here for you,
Indefinitely at my expense;
Indefinitely against my will...

For love too tight, the grip doesn't wane
'Til sanity can arrive, it even short circuits the brain.
The folly of man is that we allows this to happen
Dying slowly every second until we no longer exist.
No tombstone for our memory
No memory of our resting place
Dust and air, is all that remains
Holding so many meanings, it means nothing at all.

But I got out.
Free.
The way the light reflects on the surface of ocean waters...
Divine, truly...nearly drowns me above the sea.
Free,
Never falling, almost standing but missing the ground.
Free.
To a place where stone can bear my name,
To a place...where I can be remembered...
And not the shell of something else desired.
Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
Would you remember me?
If I placed my gaze here, if I looked at you like this...
If I stole your attention...and your kiss,
If I tugged at your heart with every willing bone...
If I kept muttering your name deep in sleep.

Would you remember me,
If I convinced you the sky was red
And turned around to make it blue again?
Would you remember me,
If I whispered my timeless wisdom to you,
My useless, ageless thoughts-
To a resolute mind, and the core of true
Intelligence?

Would you remember me,
If I felt you.
If I touched you in ways none other could
If I trapped you in my arms
Clouded your mind with lust?
If I reached to what's deep inside of you
And felt that essence with my bare hands?
Would you even recall my name?

No.
You won't.

Would you remember me,
If I put all of my life's energy
Into that moment I could see you smile;
If I fought, and bled for the days
That I'd wake up by your side,
Daily?
Would you remember me,
If I loved you, truly,
And showed you that such a love is real?

No.
You won't.

So let me drift and finally be a man of my word,
Let me wander past all of what could make me absurd.
I'll remember you...
And you won't know me...
But every dent of where my fists have gone
Will remind you of all that's wrong.
Miguel Ponton Jul 2010
Busy busy...
Fake it.
Write a line and steal a vow.
Wreck the moment,
Wreck the instance...
Come into focus when I'm about to run.
Last minute reveries,
Last second thoughts.
Last time for chances,
Last call for the alcohol.

No chance for time.

Intrepid healer,
Skillful physician,
Intimate playmate,
No aide.
Memory won't serve you well,
Though in memory
I stand a chance to run.
I'll play doctor
But I'll actually have success.
I'll fit into a role
And I'll not make a mess.
I'll disappear but I'll always be here...

I'll wander to places that hold more
Hope.
And dream of stars that reside
In our realm.

No chance,
No time,
No seconds,
No lasts.
Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
The love made itself into a thick paint over my door;
It dripped and clawed at me, never drying, never ignored.
Always some hazard that would fall and leave a stain on me...
A screaming red blotch
On solemn, cold, ebony floors.
It's always been disturbing, like blood;
Drawing the wrong crowd...
Filling the beasts with hunger...
Causing more damage than it really should.

I laid awake at night, it's every drop opens my eyes.
From a once subtle detail,
It grew to be a hammer that strikes steel.
My ears would ring, adrift in hypnogogia,
Where the ceiling is where my feet go
And rugged earth, is my limit;
I would gasp for a breath of sanity
Head pounding,
Heart sprinting,
To realize I'd find none of it
From the "love" that drips.

Today, that "love" is dead.
It's constant pursuit of earth and stone
Is nothing more than a barely visible
Scratched-out stain.
Yet I know even less sleep.
I know that my ceiling is not where my feet go,
I know that the earth is not my limit,
But rather, the sky.
I'm beginning to realize just how long it takes
For my frail body to succumb to coma,
Comatose for barely an hour
And when I drift,
I hear that hammer, and I hear that steel.
Such a thing dared to push to me to madness,
In it's presence, in all of it's falling glory...
Yet in it's absence, I only know comfort
When I caress the stains
With my hands...
Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
Who is it that puts this blanket over me...
Warmth consumes me, only sky I see.
Fading colors of moonlight and the stars,
They all know my name-
For I'm coming to them, back home.
We've cried too long on this earth,
Oh it seems we don't belong:
Come and chase the stars with me
In the blue haze of the midnight sea.
Floating forever with diamonds scattered
Under the only Eye that sees me...
We look up to find His face
Amidst the dark, there is beauty.

There are too many dreams I'm forced to wake up from!
Leave me alone! I scream...
Let me hold onto something...
Besides...nightmares.
Let me hold onto you!
For when your eyes look up to me
I'm driven senseless, not confused
I'm not afraid anymore...
So in that do I face the day
For in every night,
I dream of you...
I dream of you...
Angel.

It's been everyday
At the fall of the light,
The shining beacon of hope,
Stands to face us all.
And through every moment I wait
At the cliff's edge for you,
If only one could paint this scene
Whispering thoughts of mine to you.
But there's just one night that...
You're not here-
The stars fall near, I find fear!
For the window cracks and I see
The Lies I believe.
And tears now flow amidst the cold
One grey night for me...
In blood red color tones...
How I miss you...

*This is an old old poem of mine, must be some 5 years old by now. It's so deeply engrained in my memory now that I didn't even need to look it up again. I even made a song out of it...which is another trip all of it's own.
Miguel Ponton Jun 2010
Fire.
Warning...warning...
Fire.
An alarm.
Fire.

Instinct and will, two separate things
Fight or flight
Or precise choice.
This room crumbles around me
The fire licks my skin,
I grow red to its touch,
It's calling brings me chills.
Should I attack?
Should I run?
Should I put it out?
Should I resist?

I sit still.

Instinct and will, two separate forces
Both battling, both toiling
For control, for power
Over something that wanders,
Something that wanes
To every new opportunity
And every bright gleaming moment.
Fire.

Fire,
I'm melted to the bed.
Fire,
Her voice rings in my head.
Fire,
I recall all that she's said...
Fire...
Simply, I don't act.
Fire!
If I could just fight, and pin you to the wall
We'll set raging fire against dying embers
By racing hearts and unyielding grip.
If I could just FIGHT, and look you in the eye...
...my flesh wouldn't be burnt
From indecision
And lack of will.

Instinct and common sense,
I've replaced you with thought.
I long to have you back...
I wish you were here...
Until then,
Be certain
That I will not stay where fire lurks.

— The End —