There is a longing somewhere deep deep within me
Deeper than the hurt
Deeper than the pain
Deeper than my depravity
Deeper than my darkness
Deeper than my own human will
That longs to sing out
That longs to shout
That longs to cry
That longs to long to long
To hold onto something permanent
That longs for an anchor in this ever-screaming sea
That longs for a line tied around my waste as I seemingly cascade down this sheer mountain side
That longs for a compass in the evil dense of my thoughts
That longs for a glimmer of a door in a windowless room
That longs for a hidden key in the floorboards of my captors dungeon
That longs for a drink of something wet and not dry
That longs for something more stable than the stilts to which my feet are tied
That longs for something more steady than the sways and swifts of the tower to which I have been hoisted
In all of these things and more I am a survivor
In all of these things and more I am a witness to they’re in-permanency
In all of these things and more I am a survivor
Only because of the revelation of something to which I can cling to
in tragedy, that is convinced it must continue to move
"The Longing" -JP
i used to love that poem
until you heard it
and got mad at me for writing it
and it makes me angry
because your just now realizing
that this is how I've perceived you my whole life
as a man who's never had anything stable
because you screwed with women
and abandoned home at sixteen
now that you have something stable
you're terrified of losing it
but yet you get angry
when the truth is told to you
that your grasping for stability
like sand running through your fingertips
you hate that poem for it holds only truth
and that's why i love it so much
cuz' I've learned from that poem
I've learned that you can't accept the truth
Walking the tight rope of what could be,
she's captured me,
and pulled me into her world.
At this point,
I would normally cling,
to any sense of constancy and normality,
that I could find to stay grounded.
Feeling my fingers bleed,
as I try to hang on to the edge of this cliff, anything I can do,
to maintain the composure I find in solitude.
But there is something about this,
that allows me to free fall without fearing,
"what happens when I becomes we?"
A sweetness in her smile,
and a light in her eyes,
that envelops me in a warmth,
I have yet to feel in a lifetime filled,
with chills and dark spaces.
She is the calm within my storm,
the moment I was waiting for,
and although it takes me by surprise,
every time I think about how willing I am
to take this dive,
the idea of my life before her,
makes me wonder if I've ever really felt alive...
Because there simply is no comparison,
to the feelings that swell,
when I find myself lost in these moments with her, the energy,
so clearly tangible,
It builds a world around us,
that nothing can penetrate...
No matter how often I see her,
the memories are enough fuel to keep me,
A parachute as I fall,
knowing that even when I hit the bottom,
she will be there,
waiting with open arms.
It hides itself
Better of late
That old companion
In my shadow
Coiling inside my brain
Only cr e e p i n g
Logic and common sense.
A lord of fear
Playing my emotions
Like a violin concerto–
Out of tune socially
But then I see her
In her vulnerable position
Who props up my remains
Who takes me back
To simpler times
And youthful joys
When the hooded cobra
Was in embryonic form.
This one constant in my life
Keeps the cobra at bay
But it waits just outside the camp
Whispering just low enough
So I can't make out what
It is saying.
But how can one make out hissing?!
When you were always told
That you are fine
Maybe a little neurotic sometimes
What can you do
Be reduced to a catatonic state?
Where can you hide but in your shadow?
--Daniel Irwin Tucker
A stable young man with a stable normal family life.
They eat together every morning, afternoon, and night.
He’s the song in my head that I’ve always needed: stability.
Nothing is stable
Because I'm use to instability
This ground is not fertile
So get use to infertility
I might be able
And not have the ability
Everyone one needs saving
But there isn't a savior
Through many of labors
We try to find loyalty
Which is funny because
We're all used to enemies
Nothing is labelled
Its all under the table
Nothing has flavor
But it still taste good to me
You want to love like you're dying
With no time to wait
And all hearts at stake
Die like you're living
Forget all the hearts you break
When I'm tired I seem to be the most calm
When I'm stressed I feel relaxed when I'm anxious I keep on waiting
For my paranoia to detach
I tend to want to get high
But I embrace the night
Like an introvert I'm in my mind like I wear its design and material things are measured in time and all the time I seem to whine
Just to be extra ordinary
Lord I'm wary
I wonder what's going to happen next weekend
You inspired me to write...
But I only wrote quietly.
I have no need to anymore...
And I love it.
I really hope one day that you find yourself again, because you are so lost. And I guess...
You'll never have just one moment of clearance and wake up to truth.
As I was showing you...
Jealously will tease and torture you the precise amount to keep you clueless to your lack of... focus, stability, and peace.
You must learn without me.
A fire that burns isn't love.
And an ex-lover that curses...
just the other day i was driving to coeur d'alene and this old red jeep with the top down (even though it was raining) passed me on the freeway going way over the speed limit and i swear to god if i didn't know any better i woulda thought it was you.
they tell me that you ain't nothing special, that you're just like the rest of them. i can't help that i see you differently than everyone else, i can't help that they don't see that you have a field of sunflowers growing within you and dying to break free. you're more than just the dude whose always down to drink booze and fuck around. i was always skeptical of any seemingly good thing - they all fucked me over and last august i didn't do anything but drink while lying face down on the grass and if i'd had anymore whiskey i would've drank myself to death and you're the only good thing in my life that's stayed. i can't help that being around you reminds me of sitting on the rooftop at dusk in tehran and watching the city lights turn on, one by one. i regret 70% of the time spent wishing that we never met so that i wouldn't have to deal with this. you don't notice how much i care and it breaks my heart cause i just want you to know. i really want you to know.
You are of the spring
Only light rains
To flourish greater life
Neutral with pastel hues
Sweet smell of honey suckle
A comfortable dusk falls upon you
Almost such a rebirth, anew
I am of the winter
An extreme bite upon the lips
A cool breeze which sends shivers
White blanket covers bright greens
A brisk wind, abrasive by nature
But oh, what a sight to see
Although only tolerable for a day,
You are of the spring
And I am of the winter
You force me to melt
Have you shiver.