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Cheyenne Aug 8
You keep dreaming of
The idea of love
You read, you weep it--endlessly seeking
But it's falsehoods that bread it
No wonder it's fleeting

And as it goes
In the madness you wallow
The empty, the still: a hard pill to swallow
With only the night to hold you tight
Nothing but wind caressing your skin

You want the man on the page
To love the girl in the mirror
You want the tears on your face
To purge, to erase
And make the flaws disappear

And it's not long before
You're falling once more
Can't find arms to embrace you
Nor lips to kiss you
And until mortals can soothe you
These abstractions must do

They're not but distractions
But they're all that fate has granted you
Jen Nov 2018
Outstretched
And
Exposed
To find
Yourself
In
The
Chasm.

Displaced
Consciousness
As if
A Phantom.

Holding your soul,
Close to your body.

Rolling
Into
A Cocoon
Of
Newly
Spun
String.

Rolling, rolling, rolling...
To where?

Towards
Undetectable
Cosmos.

Unending,
Then crystalizing
Over sudden sunsets,
Infinitely,
Across the horizon.

Moving towards
Abstractions
Faster,
As concrete
Fails to set
Within them.

Swept up
On the stairwell
Of a helix,
Waiting to
See where
It ends.

Caught up
In the never-ending
Space of Obscurity
That sometimes seems
Forbidden.
This poem might not appear to make sense at first.  It came to me as a visual image that suddenly popped into my head as I was thinking about how I feel about a life situation that I've struggled with for a while. It actually has dual meanings as after I wrote it some subcontious thoughts also surfaced.  I've heard poetry is good therapy and believe it. So the inspiration came as the sun started to go down as it does now at 4pm.  I was thinking about a piece of life, closed my eyes and saw myself exposed and naked laying in a dark, empty space. Then I realize it, and so my entire being rolls itself up in a cocoon for protection to find that my mind is very abstract and struggles in this concrete world, especially around a lot of people who are very concrete and black & white thinkers. It's time to find a new field but it seems like a big leap. Just thoughts and visualizations put to words....
People are funny creatures, who seem  
unsure about the poetry, that I compose;
their lack of understanding implies that
my poems are nothing, but a series of…
spiritual abstractions. Unable to gleam

the enduring Truth of Yahweh, with eyes
of Faith, they ignorantly dismiss claims
of what God has done in Love… for them!
Without Christians demonstrating how to
live properly, their spirits won’t rise

up and see the need for a relationship
with Christ; if we’re not enjoying some
personal victories ourselves, then our
effectiveness is… obviously diminished.
We should be content, bound in fellowship

with Christ and energetically living out
our Faith! Moral regulations don’t draw
people to God; however, His joy within
us does; let our Faith be strong, vibrant
and visible, whereby people shed doubts…

of Who, God is and why He’s worthy of praise.
Inspired by:
Eze 12:2

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
amazon (dot) com

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2017, All rights reserved.
Robert Ueda Nov 2014
Mirrors for mirrors
Diaries for dust
Dead men for militants
Martyrs for rust

Tears over trophies
Prizes for price tags
Lawmakers for lovers son
Lies while the time lags

Up is quite down
But two is still two
Question me not
I said I love you

— The End —