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A seed of Love that never found
The hallowed path to fertile ground,
The fruitless trees, the orchard bare ---
Bitter pain of unanswered prayer

A tired heart, trampled by Love's feet
Dolefully yields in utter defeat;
No eyes gaze upon its despair.
Although unseen, the pain is there

An outstretched hand that no one holds
As night's obsidian cloak unfolds;
Mournful sobs permeate the air---
O, what pain! And no one to share

Hours of blissful happiness
Followed by guile's fatal caress;
Wretched pain of Love's sad farewell . . .
O, what stories the past could tell!

Though such reminiscing brings regret,
Still, the heart whispers "Never forget,"
And so to Love's treachery we're resigned,
And journey on  . . .  with pain close behind
From one night,
To daylight,
My mind in a haze.
My body in a daze,
My soul full of shame.
As not one moment,
Can I live in present.

For past,
Is where I stay.
There is nothing but darkness here
And rot that fills the air,
Every day I cross murals of my yesterday
And memories I cannot bear,
Dwindling and shattering asking
To why I'm so fragile.
Fragile
I've lived inside a broken shell,
Cracked and leaking
spilling on those who come too close,
I always run away
But no matter how far I go
I cannot escape my fate.
Fate
That binds me to this self-loath
Where flies are my only friends,
This stench that I cannot endure
But now I know too well,
A slave to my misery
A king of this empty hell.
Hell
To offer up my life to the noose
that hangs around my neck,
never tight enough to end this
But with every breath I clench
Reminds me of my worthlessness.
Worthlessness
A burden to my own mind
A wall to my questions of being
Hollow yet overflowing
I've seen enough to know
This tunnel has no end in sight
The light has failed to reach what’s inside.
The Myth of Sisyphus was a heavy read, and I am not recovering from it.
Hunter Dec 2023
It commenced not in the ordinary,
No, it carried a profound yearning,
A yearning to be cherished, not reviled,
To be esteemed, not deemed average,
To experience something, not nothing.

Gradually, it evolved beyond that,
Becoming my sole wellspring of joy,
Aware of the inherent imbalance,
Yet, akin to all my remorseful attachments,
I found myself unable to let go.

Indeed,
The concept of letting go eluded me,
A foreign notion, seemingly distant,
Yet, akin to the frigid days of February,
I understood it would conclude someday,
Nonetheless, I persisted,
Holding on tenaciously.

As the days stretched out,
Snow gave way to melting streams,
Blooms emerged from their wintry cocoon,
And akin to the scorching heat of summer,
My affection blazed brighter than stars.

Picture winning a grand lottery,
That's how it felt,
A sensation of prevailing in life,
The notion of letting go never occurred,
It seemed unnecessary.

Then came September,
A month I abhor with fervor,
When everything crumbled beneath,
Love waned,
Evaporating like recollections of better days,
And the embers of letting go flickered anew.

Fear settled in,
Reluctant to relinquish,
I convinced myself it would mend,
For I acknowledged,
I couldn't let go.

Fourteen,
Fourteen,
Fourteen,
Etched clearly in my consciousness,
That's the date it unfolded,
The day I dreaded,
The day I was compelled to let go.

Anticipated as it was,
Those phrases,
"This isn't healthy,"
"It's irreparable,"
"I'm sorry,"
Tore me asunder.

Here I am,
Penning this poem,
Still in pain,
Still shattered,
Rife with remorse.

Such is life,
A journey void of utopian conclusions,
A cycle that persists,
Until the day we depart,
Until the day we dissolve,
Until the day we finally let go."
B Nov 2023
Your mom still calls me pretty
even though I pretend you don't exist.
I know I've loved you forever
built a house and a bed out of sticks
then burned it all down
like a candle to the wick.
Look at you with such admiration
and I start to feel sick.
Sealed by doom, in 2017
healed by your lips.
Seeking out a brand new lover -
it's you that I miss.
Made out of nerves like second hand china,
always shattered like this.

I hope you'll choose me
repair me, take me to your place
know this rejection is something
I must finally meet face to face.
Calling on your landline, late and weary
it's like screaming into space.
Drove around in a circle
because you always know what's right
with the windows down, I'm blinded
your smile so unbelievably white
and I wish I could stop feeling
like I'm such an ugly sight
maybe then you'd want me
and I'd have less to write.
A M Ryder Apr 10
You see that?
That's a whole
City on fire
The war will
End.. soon
But before
That, a lot
More people
Have to die
George Krokos Nov 2023
You and I will most likely be gone as there'll be hardly anyone else around
without a building left standing, to be seen, anywhere near on the ground.
There'll be chaos and destruction wherever one may happen to look about
with the screams of women and children heard from afar in pain no doubt.
The voices of men crying together with words mumbled in resignation
addressed to a deity that had been forsaken long ago in condemnation.
Days of the future foretold now are passing under cover of a blackened sky
with the smell of smoke and ashes slowly rising from the ground to pry.
The earth as it has been known in people's memories now exists no more
and former things of beauty loved been shattered to pieces on the shore.
Hopelessness and helplessness are words to express the current situation
with no effort on anyone's part to make amends in a general desperation.
The howling of many dogs and other creatures can also be heard as well
with the sound of rolling thunder fading in the distance is a story to tell.
Flashes of lightning seen in the clouds above add a surreal touch to be
made out or viewed like it's doomsday come at last for those left to see.
With the earth itself trembling from all the current devastation around
there's no one to speak words of comfort to subdue the noise profound.
Like a worst case scenario the images will be etched in the hearts 'n minds
of all those who've remained alive, in one piece, the way that true guilt binds.
__________
Written in Dec'22. I once read a similar poem by a female poet many years ago on another website to which I commented saying it was too negative and pessimistic but these days views expressed on such topics are becoming more commonplace even with me trying to imagine what may never happen. Or is it happening now? Hmm...............
George Krokos Oct 2023
What could've been never really was
but all of our hopes weren't quashed.
_____
From 'Simple Observations' - S.O.#476, ongoing writings since the early '90's.
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