I was hungry
and you fed the tiger
back and forth.

And then a fierce
battle commenced between
lie and truth.

In temple of eyes
deities were disappearing.

There was no signs
of large fig tree, under which
you can sit to become wise.

Your umbrella and muddy galoshes

Elvish child of Spring, dancing in the rain.

Lovely as the innocence of being chaste.

Laughter banishing all fears so dark.

On faith, on stars - the color of remembrance…

Wondering if it’s raining where you are?

This world is not real.
Is it in my mind?
Are we part of something greater?
What are we here for?
Who am I?

We used to stay up
and watch the sun play peekaboo
with the skyline
and sit in the street
at 4 AM discussing everything
and nothing.
Breaking other peoples showers
in the night
and making love on their mother's
Dining room tables.

Now I resort to ep's and
YouTube videos, just
to remember the sound of your voice
or how your fingers move while you
strum your acoustic and massacre
your drums.

You have made my stomach tense with laughter
and my eyes rain
and you have made me love.

But this will be my last
Poem for you.
My last ode, my last confession.
There will be no more soft sweet syllables
or angry goodbye lines.
There will be no more heartfelt repetition
or cheesy, sing song rhymes.

We have lied
and we have cheated
making Misery moan with pleasure.
We have martyred it,
buried it,
and given the eulogy.

We used to climb to roof tops
and watch the lights dance
across our city.
We used to know each other.

Surrounded by people
Yet still alone
The lone wolf traveler
Isolation-prone.

Socialism isn’t her thing
But she pretends it is
Masked she is
But she is not a hero.

Nevertheless
She wants to be heard
But she whispers
Hoping that he will hear.