Just one look


You’re a luminescent light in a dark grey world.
No bling necessary; it pales into insignificance next to your beauty.
Metal on hand, that piece does not suit you.
A classic band of gold I think you would suit.  You suit me.


There is no need to advertise your full time commitment.
It is clear from your beauty, you are already meant,
For another to love, but all sane men would look in the hope,
That there had never been a tan line on your ring-finger…but no.


These eyes do not lie or deceive.
True feelings left to their dreaming,
Of what might have been,
If only there could have been a way;
And one day I will forget you…but not today.


No other has come along who could ever replace,
Or compare to thee.  They are less than could be.
I know you will never be mine,
But all wandering minds are fixed on thou
And all of thine divine beauty.


In a far off land lives a travelling man.
He once saw you as you passed by his window.
Since that day he has scaled mountain tops and mined his way,
Through all the gold, always asking, do you know?  Do you know,
Who she was?
Once seen, never gone.
Unfortunately you will always remain,
Lost.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Whether it’s 5 p.m or 5 a.m, I laugh as loud as I want.
Laughter is a stream of gold cascading through the air.
It is the end all, the ultimate painkiller.
The path to redemption.
Laughter.
Well, it is 5 a.m, but I’m not laughing.
I’ve been reading stories
Of sadness and sordidity,
romance and restlessness,
love and loneliness–all for hours on end.
So much for lightheartedness, there’s none of that here.
I’ve been reading amateur-made stories
That still tug at the deepest recesses of my depression.
One in particular inspired me to write a certain story of my own.
It was sad, it was juvenile,
It was beautiful, it was nostalgic.
The prose in that story should only ever be thought of
In the most proper manner:
shrouded in a hazy mist of wistfulness and bittersweet longing.
Different hues of glowing colors,
Images of fog.
For so long I thought I was through with this part of my life.
The part where I felt so lonely that I could drop dead of touch deprivation.
But it has returned.
Nothing will do to stop this acquired disease.
Mine is a loneliness, such as a thirst
That cannot be quenched with mere drops of water.
It becomes a way of life.
O’ joy, where do you reside?
Oh, forget it. You’re lost on me.

Let's hurt deeply each other,
then,
bind up wounds
we received
to become strong together.
Tell me
that you had been late,
So, let me oppose the fate.
...You do hate
and then disappoint me.
I am already ready
to build up a fortress
made up of the masses of stress...
I don't intend to be clever
as I am myself
more than ever.
You are my part - the missed element,
outside me
which complement
my personal deficiencies.

Has it really been this long?
Being a child that never cared
falling asleep to that old song,
the lullaby my mother shared.

Have these four years really passed?
Since I felt that aching rise
around my chest, hoping it lasts
by telling all those little lies.

Has it really been four months?
I saw it happen, all over then
letting the bullet slightly pass,
right through my heart, to softly rend.

Has it really been four weeks?
Since the wound had opened up
again, with the slightest leaks
of light, in my darkened mind.

And yet... I find it quite disturbing,
the fact, that I've been holding up
from suffering in brighter dark,
I guess it's time.
That makes you strong...

How I try to count my blessings,
They do little to ease my saudade,
Look to the past
For some consolation,
But the past remains resistant,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

Twenty years to destroy an existence,
Is all it took,
To steal my contentment,
Look to the past for a glimmer of peace,
To the past for a little release.
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

On one level, I feel so blessed,
Cleave to life with all my strength,
There’s so much to be thankful about,
‘Til I sink back into deepest night,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…

I miss you so much,
even if we haven't met before
You don't even have
the slightest clue of who I am
And I am not even sure
you'll get to know at all

I miss you, unknown.
I miss you fiercely and wholeheartedly.

I miss the idea of you,
the concept of your soft curls against my cheek,
my face tucked into your neck.

I am the longing bull,
huffing and grunting impatiently
with ardent eyes, mouth full of fervor
for your crimson presence.

I am the sailing boat, the fisherman,
humming with quiet and unmoving anticipation
for the melody of your song to ring through space.

I miss you.
I miss you in my fingertips and in my brain.
I miss you in my knees and in the depth of my ***** and
in my ritual I roam through sunny days looking for your cool hands
and on the cold days I freeze on the inside and I do not speak.

I miss everything I don't know about you.
I miss everything I thought I knew about you and
I miss not knowing
and wanting to know.

at times the guilt of it all churns my stomach,
to know that letting go of you may burn me on my soft edges
but might keep whole.
the sting of the brutal realisation that your light is not mine to melt my wings for.

still
time after time
I simply miss you.
I miss the idea of you.
I miss you, unknown.

Você me deu tantos sustos
Que agora a realidade parece confusa
E eu não sei o que sentir
É uma angústia, um novelo de lã que usavas para tricotar minhas toucas
Enforcando meu peito.

Teu amor me aquece nesse inverno tão gelado
E a única promessa que te garanto é de sempre levar meus casacos
Pois sei que deu que fará frio na televisão.
A lembrança do teu toque e cheiro são tão vividos
Será que irão embora contigo com o tempo?
Ou ao menos isso deixarás para mim?

Tem um potinho do teu molho de macarrão no congelador
E tantas fotos suas com um grande sorriso nos álbuns lá da sala de casa
Não consigo acabar esse poema
As forças que tinha usei tentando colocar o pé fora de casa
Acabaram nos meus olhos vislumbrando a janela.
Vi um mundo vivendo
Pessoas passando igual a antes
Seguindo em frente
E ninguém está de preto. Ninguém chora. Ninguém sente o que eu sinto.
Porque não te conheceram
Aí dessas pessoas infelizes
Que não provaram do teu carinho
Do teu amor
Aí dessas pessoas infelizes que vivem e passam
Enquanto eu não aguento viver nesse mundo sem você.

As lágrimas me consomem
E eu nem tenho mais lágrimas para chorar.

On my way from DC to Manhattan, the sky an odd indigo.
Got some donuts from the local bakery, which I'm munching on.
Some girl sits next to me.
After a couple hours she dozed off, and I whisper to her:
"You might be stardust, but you're no nebula."
She can't see the window through my silhouette.
I hate that inky nothing, I hate that
shadow, I hate
that silhouette.