Stairs to the downside

Bridging the hopes of the heart

Your old love and my soul

Pushed further apart.

What makes a philosophy?
Is it the locked brain
Or the evergreen ribbons of change?

The racket of the crowd
Or the edge of sanity on a hot, summer night?

The high ride of obssession
Or the fluid ride of emotions in the vacant room?

The bed sighed.
        It had been awake for a while now.
Bathed in harsh electric light, I too,
        Could feel the weariness of my dead eyes.

But sleep refuses to alight!

Countless silent nights I have spent
Tired, withered, weary
But still
             Unable to rest.

White noise
White lies
A thin white cat
Rubbing against my thighs

Grey skys
Grey storms
The grey lane between
All that is right and wrong

Black hearts
Black eyes
A black crow
Feasts on rotting mice

On the tip of my tongue
A tiny spark
That could ignite
All of my future

The pristine expanse of glassy bluegreen
White foam tumbling into nothingness and resurfacing
Long shrill notes that rent the misty air
The high oceans, bedecked with flair
There a glossy fin, there a sleek twisting tail
Boundless eyes, with many a stories to hell
Drowning in freshness, in the midst of human greed
Tis the creed of the mighty ocean, from humane shackles freed

The pearl that I dug out
From the heart of the ocean
Loved not me, but the dead oyster

Clouds swirling in a grey palette

Blue meandering round the edges of the evening star
Shards of dusk disappear into the horizon
Drop by drop
Tears gather in my trembling hands

The damp smell of rain masks the stench of misery

Stretching my voice
Until the very corners of the town
Ring with sonority
Up from the cliff
I shout to the unspeakable

And back to me
They send their silent answers
On invisible breezes
That carry the cries of the unheard

Then from the cliff
I sing their woes
For everyone to listen to
And for the masked leaders to heed

I was twelve
Twelve when I saw my parents fall out of love
Twelve when I was told that my face looked better from afar
Twelve when I was taught that being a feminist was silly
Twelve when I heard that I wasn't meant to cry aloud
Twelve when I felt that it was time I died
Twelve when I decided to cut open my wrist

And then I started to write
It is now on pages that I bleed

The notes of an old song
Float to me from the east

I gaze upon the emptiness of my heart
And forget my love for you for a while

I rest in the musical silence
Free from love's sad woes

           And then, my friend
                          I open the door to my heart
                                          And once again I fall in love

I hate you
For the mellow smile that lingers on your lips after our fights

I hate you
For the faint scent of November that clings onto your shirt every Saturday night

I hate you
For the arrogance of your elegant hands every time you hold me

Why can't you be like to me for once?
Why do you have to be wonderful, so high?
I'm so insecure
So insecure of your laughter
Of your lively eyes
That I don't really know what I might do
If you were to go away, if you were to die.

Like a belt of leather
Steel hooks sliding into the notch
Adjusting until it is just right
And then
Smack!
It is shut

Knew how to love
Until her heart grew tired

Knew how to dance
Until here feet became sore

Knew how to sing the night into dawn
Until she lost her voice
And then she faded away

I stare ahead
My reflection stares back
                         Bit
                              by
                                    Bit
We merge into each other
A mask over the pre-existing facade of reality
I have merged directions
And now
Can only gaze at
A blank canvas
Resounding with
    
                              Emptiness

I fail to understand myself
Fail to comprehend the future
The world keeps turning
And life goes on.

And with life I have to run
As it rushes past me in giant strides
I seem to fall behind, so far behind
That future to me is nothing but a blur.

But I shall keep on running
For it is all I can do
Run and run
Until my sky turns blue

I get to see her when she runs in the rain
Soaking wet, water dripping off her chest like sweat.
I sit in the car and as she goes by,
I look at her approaching, then I look at her die.

    And I keep my head over the politics of the humans
    So that right and wrong doesn't tear me apart.
    In this unknown place, many souls I have known
    Seen their journeys end, seen their miseries start.

   She runs down the street unaware of my inhumane gaze
   Unaware of the world, unaware of her place in
   The depths of my immortal heart.

Your name like an admonition
Drowning the music
Stooping me in silence

Bless the heart of this weary soul
Walked for miles without reminiscing about home
Feet soiled with grey dust
Lips sealed, emotions gathering rust

For this seems to be the last one.

The unruly boiling cauldron of genius
Escaped from the grasps
Of the ignorant
And that was the last time
We heard anything about it

I wish now
That I had persisted
Wish that I had held on
But I gave up my dreams
For the sake of a phantom I couldn't see
Nor touch, nor hear, nor feel

But I succumbed
And I fell
Down to the depths of my own hell

I've come up again now
Have gathered the broken pieces of the days I wasted
And have pieced them into an amateur mosaic of dreams

And I know I'll hold on this time
Even if
For just a little longer.