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Aug 2018 · 4.4k
On The Same Beach, 2015
Paul Marfil Aug 2018
The afternoon is telling itself
in the way we are gathering

sand between our toes,
crushing sea shells into

tiny pieces of chalk, gashing
the shoreline and seeking salt

wherever the water drags itself
to forget our footprints like a memory

it never wanted. The last streak
of sunlight falls on us like a lowly

spotlight, the sky a wounded animal
heaving itself into a shade. Behind us

is a river that houses a secret you
never wish to talk about. So we shy

away from its mouth still pouring ***
and tattered petals into the sea.

Here, the wind comes to speak to us
in a cold acoustic — Nick Drake, or

Bon Iver. The strums of a daydream are
undoing your hair. We sink our hands

into the water — our fingers getting cold,
saying it is okay to miss heat. The ocean

is holding us with shy wrists. We tread
quietly in its palms, carefully dropping

the names we've been trying to forget.
Everything gets swallowed up eventually,

even the day. We fall silent, our words
drowned out by a chorus of tides.

Soon, the horizon will raise itself
towards us, and all will be lost beneath it.

And the tides will fold themselves
to meet us once more, blanketing our feet

in the foamy cold. You then tell me how
kicking a wave has become a habit, how

you once thought that one can bring
your anger to whoever hurt you first.

So we welcome the night kicking
each wave that comes to us.

We know the waves will kick us back,
our anger rolling to greet us back, too.
Paul Marfil Aug 2018
The moment my hands come
                                      to meet in prayer

     know that I am holding
        two broken fists             held together 

                    by lola's rosary beads            
       so tight against my skin        
                                             
you will mistake them
                          for blood clots.

                                 It is difficult to pray
  inside an unfinished church:

       A welder goes about
                              joining iron

                                 the way one gathers
his ironies before prayer.

  The sound he makes becomes too
           shredded it could be the sound of

metal screaming for mercy. At the back
             a woman stretches her hand

like a five o' clock shadow. Something
           holy stands frozen in time. Say pray

for us. She lights a candle.
                      When the fire went out, she is

pressed back into the dark. The last time
                         I was asked to write

            something for the Lord, I ended up
worshipping my own silence.

                           There is a sin a knee
          could no longer carry. I am sorry.

     Forgiveness is a room
                         with a door left ajar.

                                                    You are
         inside that room.

                   I know my chances will expand
          like an earthy bough, I know

one of them will break
                at the welcome of confession.

           You are...     

Perhaps **** is for those
               who used the wrong adjectives.

                A churchman opens a window,
   pours out a summer's worth of light—

    see it fall between the pews like sand
                 between one's fingers. Here

            where there is no light, anything
that shines will feel like a judgement.

Tell me how can one hold a prayer
          the way an empty hand can hold

     so much waiting. Tell me how can one
not weep in the shadow of a gospel

and see the light where it is aimed at.
              Somewhere down here

                    there is a worn down piano
            that never doubts

         the hand that plays it.
                                  It could be me.

     Perhaps at the worst end
                            of having a choice

          is the consequence of guilt. Perhaps
this is how things should have ended: us

        raising an amen
                                      
                     ­                         to our lips.
Aug 2017 · 305
This Cold Place Is You
Paul Marfil Aug 2017
Enter my stasis: hands groping in the dark
Yet cannot grab nor call for help. My fingers

Are meshed by frozen teardrops, my feet do not
Trust the floor below. Such kingdom I have made,

Enough to put their walls to shame. I have everything:
Between the fortune and the fame, I stand. All the world’s

Marvels come here and do not come out. You can check out
Any time you like, a song once said, but you can never leave.

I have everything, but the single thought of you—of not
Having you—has turned them all to ice. I am married

To this arctic cathedral. I sleep beneath the sheets of satin
As cold as the hollow infinite you placed on your lips.

I do not wish to stay, but the wrist is shy at the welcome
Of a blade. At times, I would sling a sentence to the sky

To shake off sunlight from a cloud. But you would come
And tempt me with December’s air. Oh, my sweet despair,

You are the eye in the ice, the sharp drip of a frozen spike
That hangs from my ceiling. Darling, I wish to be unthawed.

A frozen kiss had sealed my lips. I cannot holler for help,
For in the land of the blind, the silent man is lonely.
Jun 2017 · 380
Nape
Paul Marfil Jun 2017
Wind kisses her hair, then
Her nape would sigh
A soft hello.
Jun 2017 · 305
Storms
Paul Marfil Jun 2017
Droplets of rain
Running down her skin.
Storms in my eyes, let loose.
Jun 2017 · 1.3k
Morning Dew
Paul Marfil Jun 2017
This morning, my hand
Caught the first drop of dew.
I think I just held your hand.
Feb 2017 · 538
Insomnia
Paul Marfil Feb 2017
When you
Can't sleep
And the night
Feels like
Bitter wax
Slowly dripping
On your morning's tongue
Jan 2017 · 913
In Shadows
Paul Marfil Jan 2017
Some nights, I would set sail
To a thousand words on paper,
And one by one, they would get lost
Beneath the rip tides of your skin.

In sentience and in sleep,
Darling, you are only as real
As the last verse I wrote
On the crumpled walls of dusk.

While the world slaughters dreamers,
I watch you, begging the moon
To drop pieces of itself on sea foam.
I am a ***** to your every step.

Tucked underneath crystalline sighs,
The stars would come out to put up tents
In the corner of your eyes, their light
Guiding the way for misguided missives.

Moored to your voice, I listen
As you speak in the language of waves,
Your words undulating with my metaphors,
But stirring holocausts for the heartbroken.

But you are here, and the lines between your eyes
Get tangled up with thoughts bred by midnight.
Your hair, your hair, they tessellate and play
With the colors of honey and amber.

Perhaps, if one were to ***** you open
The light of a thousand adjectives
Would come seeping out of your skin.
I am but the shadow it will cast.

And in shadows, they whisper
That dreams can get lost
In the vacancies of the night.
Every night, with you
I set sail to my words
To find them
And lure them back.
Sep 2016 · 491
Winterbreath And Your Name
Paul Marfil Sep 2016
I dream of Glasgow’s neon glow,
Of splashing lights on trees and snow.

I dream of Stockholm’s wintry air,
The way its snowflakes kiss your hair.

I dream of dinners at Amsterdam:
A glass of Shiraz, some prosciutto ham.

I dream of places, somewhere far
Where sunlight’s kept inside a jar.

Where nights are long and winters reign,
And the cold, cold silence speaks your name.

Speaks your name.

Your name.

Your
Name.
Aug 2016 · 536
Thought Genesis
Paul Marfil Aug 2016
It comes out during sunset:
Sky blushes orange,
Moon scares the sun.

It gushes out in different forms:
A bit scattered at first,
But then becomes one.

It dabs words onto paper:
Sewing syntax
On fabric fantasy.

But it leaves without warning:
It's daylight drowning
In nocturne melody.
Jul 2015 · 1.2k
She's An Ocean
Paul Marfil Jul 2015
"To me, she's the entire ocean. To her, I'm just a puddle, ***** and lifeless."

"You should give it a try. You know, test the waters, explore the beauty of the ocean."

"The beauty of the ocean is indeed very enchanting. But if you don't know how to swim, you will drown and eventually die in the depths of its beauty."
Jul 2015 · 1.2k
My Dahlia Is Red
Paul Marfil Jul 2015
I once had a dream
Though I’m not even sure if it’s a dream

I was in this forest, see
It was cold, damp, and foggy
With me was my Dahlia, dressed in white
My oh so pretty Dahlia

She was just standing right there
Far from me, and we both couldn’t move
As if time had died for the both of us
And she was shaking her head
Uncontrollably, violently, shaking her head

I knew she was crying
Wait, was she crying?
Or was she just bleeding through her eyes?
I don’t know, but there was blood all over her

Then, right in front of us was a wolf
Black fur, eyes drenched in vermillion
It—or he?—was staring at me, growling
And then, it—or he?—began to grin

I looked the wolf in the eyes
They were fiery, like windows to ****
And the wolf kept on grinning,
Its sharp teeth like demonic horns

I don’t know, but it seems like
The wolf is there physically in front of me
But its soul—or his?—was trying to **** my Dahlia
To ***** her of her innocence
Not to mention her clothes

But of course, dreams are severed by waking up
And I did wake up, to the smell of decaying flesh
With dried-up blood painted all over my skin
I turned around, and there she was
My Dahlia, cold and lifeless

Like her heart
Jul 2015 · 461
Bandana
Paul Marfil Jul 2015
Today, I bought a bandana
She's beautiful
She's protecting my head from the rain
She's keeping me warm
Well, maybe just a little
She's also kind to me
Especially to my wallet
Oh, I love my bandana

Are you my bandana?
May 2015 · 376
What Is Pain?
Paul Marfil May 2015
"What is pain to you?" She asked.

"It's when you can't accept the fact that the person who was once dying to have you is now dying to forget you."
May 2015 · 3.0k
Frozen Teardrops (Tanka)
Paul Marfil May 2015
They danced underneath
the frigid December sky,
their eyes like the stars,
and their hands held together
by warm yet frozen teardrops
Apr 2015 · 3.5k
Forgetting
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Sometimes,
Forgetting is like
Peeling off your own skin
Apr 2015 · 2.1k
Tears
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Memories can be suppressed
Thoughts can be controlled
Emotions can be concealed
But tears,
they always come out
when they want to.
Apr 2015 · 229
Sorry, Not Starry
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
It's terrible
How the stars suddenly disappeared
When the lights came back
So our city had just experienced a blackout. Got nothing to do, so I went outside and watched the stars.
Apr 2015 · 2.5k
Monster
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
I didn't believe in monsters
'til I saw myself
And the mess I've made
Apr 2015 · 276
They Consume You
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Sometimes,
memories take on a life of their own.
They eat a little piece of you inside,
then they grow to consume you
whole.
Apr 2015 · 409
Entangled
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
"You know what? When you left, I've found myself in this extreme state of emptiness and misery."

"Oh yeah? How was it like?"

"It's like having your soul being dragged away from your body."

"That's just sad. You should get it back."

"I want to, but I can't."

"Why so?"

"Because I think it's still entangled with yours."
Apr 2015 · 294
Man In The Mirror
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Man in the mirror, you are not me
You are not who I am supposed to be
You're a monster, and I cannot let you win
I am not your *****, and I am never your kin
Apr 2015 · 607
Like A Dream
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
It's like a dream
I know what's happening
But I've got no control
Over the situation
Apr 2015 · 605
Dear Woman 2.0
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Dear woman,

Please . . .

Drown me in gasoline
to wash away all the memories
and then set me on fire.

Then gather my ashes
And feed them to your heart
To satisfy its utmost desire
Apr 2015 · 769
Memories
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
"What happens after we die?" She asked.

"Well, I'm not sure, really. But what I'm sure of is that when a moment dies, it gets resurrected in the mind as a memory."

"Will I be just a memory to you someday?"

"Maybe, but some memories are better than others. And when I become a memory too, I will find you, and together we will go to that one magical place where memories become moments once more."
Apr 2015 · 3.1k
Fragile (Haiku)
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Hearts are fragile things
So we need someone who can
Hold them with caution
Apr 2015 · 4.0k
Gray Skies
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Skies are gray
          Never blue
Here I am
          Missing you
Apr 2015 · 10.4k
Dear Woman
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Dear woman,
I want you to skin me alive
And then bathe me in alcohol
Apr 2015 · 339
Eternal Now
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Time has no meaning
whenever you're near,
And the gravity of your love
pulls me closer
and closer every day

There is no past,
there is no future
There is only you,
And you are my eternal now,
A perfect glitch
In the fabric of space-time
Time Love Gravity Space
Apr 2015 · 4.0k
Ocean Of Stars
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Oh how I wish
I could drown myself
In an ocean of stars
Apr 2015 · 356
Lost In A Chatter
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
"Demon, where did my angel go?"
"Don't ask me. She dreamt of love. You chose to run away."
"I don't remember running away."
"It's because you aren't you anymore."
"You're a demon. How can I trust you?"
"You're a human being. How can you trust yourself?"
Apr 2015 · 798
The Sweetest Silence
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
"I could still hear her whispering in the wind, her soft voice gently caressing every single molecule in the air."

"But I can't hear a thing," his friend said. "It's just silence."

"Then it's the sweetest silence I've ever heard."
Apr 2015 · 421
Kafkaesque
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
I hate my dreams . . .

I once dreamt of rain
Rain that fell,
but didn't touch my shoulders
And it rained during night time
Night time that shone
Darker than dark

And in that dream I was waving
And each time I waved
They knew it was me who's waving
But they never waved back
Never

And the moon, and the stars
They hung like pupils in the sky
And I watched them
As they watched me
But never did I laugh
When they laughed at me

And I was fearful
Because I hid in the shadows
Of closed eyelids
Until slowly, my eyes began to part
Only to realize that in waking up
The darkness was still there

. . .  and I hate that even more
Apr 2015 · 201
A Forlorn Haiku
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
No such poetry
No specific set of words
Could bring them all back
Apr 2015 · 305
Bleed
Paul Marfil Apr 2015
Come, and kiss me
Let my heart scream
And its scream, you must hear

For once, I have dreamt
Of this fantasy, you and me
suspended in our own atmosphere

For not so long ago
when time was hollow
when we were distant then

I've waited, frozen
in icy fire, for you to come,
for the fire to end

But since you're now here,
come, and listen,
for this is my desire

Unbutton my shirt,
take it off,
then toss it to the fire

Now, this is crucial
for all I know,
pain, it will not assuage

Rip my chest off
Reach inside
And dismantle my rib cage

Now, see my heart,
see how it beats
for a love so true

But look again
and see how it bleeds
whenever I'd lose you

— The End —