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Donal Blanchard May 2012
The morning took me in her arms,
wrapped me in her misty folds
And waking with her once again I felt not so alone

A feeling I had often, the walls I'd built would hold
the others all with out me, kept them all away
I thought that's what I wanted, to be so all alone

My journey to this keep of mine was long and slow and sure
I did not know where it would lead, but each day
I kept moving closer

Behind my walls, and in my keep, I felt safe all alone.
Soon the echos of the emptiness played upon my mind
I heard each noise unto itself as if it were a din

I toiled at my walls, worked hard to build them strong
Keep out the din, keep out the pain, keep out the sun
Sat in a room of hundreds, and sensed I was alone

Pain finds a way, it always does.
It prays on the alone
And so my keep brought me company unwanted while alone
The pain I worked to keep away
seeped through the mortar
seeped through the stone
seeped through the ceiling
seeped through my walls

And I was alone
with pain

Hemingway taught us that the sun also rises
The lost are redeemed
The heart is resilient

One came that could not see my walls
I was laid bare before her
My soul was open to her touch

One came and I began to realize that pain could be replaced
if only you take down the walls and open the heart

The morning dawns, the day renewed
And waking with her once again I felt not so alone
Back roads like my image seem destined for only past reflection for ive burnt the image within the depths
of a dirrty song and a broken soul.
Track marks warm feeling can you embrace my day eternal and gather my sense for just one more write.
Can i hold it togather just for one more night?
Im sorry i cant speak within these confines lets give madness a manic spin in a shallow crowd.

As a dim lit room the wine will flow sangria's fire can you replace that which I no longer control?
It used to be freedom now it only is a action like some trained monkey or circus animal i know the routine but never do i thrive as once i did befor.

As for passion it's as dead as my voice that echos within this tomb.
Do you know what it is to die twice.?
I never did thirst for the norm and now im overwhelmed by rejection it's so very hard to run on junkies leg's.
Page I can only spoil your plessure for the well has went dry leaving only a fool with a tin cup to die of thirst beside you.

Another summers play ive passed more thoughts unwritten to a audience of stars .
When words dont connect there simply empty call's apon the wind.
But a fools  yerning is but a role and this play has been cast for another.

I hope you understand that which makes me only question in a paranoid late night haze.
The nightwatch no longer my own time has come for me to step aside.
Tru1 Nov 2018
So, this is what I get.
I think sitting all alone.
All those times I took advantage, I should have known.
Now every sound echos off the walls, in these empty halls.
In now a house, that used to be a home.
Once filled with family, now is only occupied by me... alone.
Crucifix Jun 2015
The moon shines cold in the dark hollow, unyielding against the starless abyss. Below iron and neon bellow forth from the rain soaked, pavement.
Silent citizens march quickly through the night, fearfully of the long alleyways that weave their way throughout the shadows.
Fearfull of what the dark might hold.

Screams, laughter. A flash of iron and fire not to far in the distance, death follows the sound as a close friend. Grown men panic scurrying into shadows. A roar of a would be master of men echos into the darkness.

And it echoes on forever. Until the darkness shudders, something twists from liquid to smoke. It whispers warnings in dark tones, fit and full of ill intent. The cold takes hold of the spine, and a shadow descends, black and threatening, blood and bone snap beneath its weight, and death itself retreats in fear of its mighty wings.
It is the guardian of such a place. A immortal soul chained to a mortal coil.
A everlasting spirit of vengeance and the night. Cloaked in the shadow of the bat.
Just for fun gearing up for arkham knight, never realized the lasting effect this character from my childhood had on me
Keith W Fletcher Jan 2016
As I came through the door
Taps the cat  meowed at me
As she crisscrossed the floor space
Staying a foot ahead of me
Glancing into the big closet or tiny room
Whichever ... Dad called it his study
"Hey dad " I yelled at the back of his head
" His quick glance meant "hey buddy"
I noticed moms face on the computer screen
'Oh!"I snapped " mom ... Hey we miss you "
"I'm not talking to your crotch "she laughingly barked
"Sit down ... Move the camera or move your *** Trent"
I compromised by doing all three as dad took a break
The face of someone I truly loved sat there
Looking at me
From over  three thousand miles away.
Three thousand miles away!
"Hey baby " she said in her cooing voice " How are you?"
"Got a job at Dannerlans ... Part time" I proudly engaged
"Don't let it interfere with" ...she couldn't stop and she knew...
I guess my stupid grin finally clued her in as she trailed off
"Half a world away and I'm still mom I guess. Dad musta.."
"He did ... Same thing.. And I won't. But what are you...."
"Don't you dare Trent " mock rage crossed her  face
As a few octaves fell out of her voice and I already knew
Here it comes.....a tsunami all the way from Japan
Putting my nose right to the camera and pushing on
I repeated "tsunami mommy  tsunami mommy  san
What can you do about it . you're way over there and I'm..."
" Gonna get it so bad .. When I get home mister "
:You're gonna look end up looking just like your sister"
"Oh ....Kay...  "I haltingly bounced her words round my mind
"I DONT HAVE A SISTER."
"Exactly"
Then I saw it... Set up and now....
Confusion and pride had my ammunition... just the facts
Dad arrived at that second with a coke for me and his beer
"Did you hear her ?" I asked him
" threating to make me a girl"
As I gave up the chair I heard that cooing soft voice sorta ....
..........GR OO ooowl ?!? While still softly cooing  "oh no no no...
Too good for you Bud...Buuud...Buddy?   You'll just disa..pear!"
Dad laughed first - drawing me in as I reluctantly let go.
"Nice try dear.... but you lost it coming round the outside corner"
What do you mean outside corner ..it was right over but too low
"Bye mom"  I said "got some homework to do " they were merged
Gone now for three month and three more to go .poor dad
His staunch had wilted within forty eight hours of her departure
But let's all pretend that you
never noticed the droop -a bit sad
Poor poor  dad ... Poor poor dad  I chimed as I climbed the stairs
He won't make it another three months . .. Very easy
I  haltingly caught my words as the downer that they were
As I scooped the elegant Taps  from the floor " but they'll make it "
I whispered into her ear. "Won't they girl? "Her answer was a purr

I'm thinking of joining the red cross
That's good...gets you out and about....
In the ...nei..bor....
"Okay .. Whats yet to be told ...spill
"They asked me to run the admin office" She
So you'll have to travel for a while  that's ok" (He)
"The whole admin office for foreign.... "  She let it trail......
Allright so you come back weekends
Ain't that far....to... (He)
      .......... ...Japan ....(She)
Dad........didn't  have any words to say
And the staunch started peeling away...right then and there
The love they shared
Might be compared
To historic qualities
Romeo and Juliet  sans tragedy
Bogie and Bacall  for longevity
Tracy and Hepburn for loyalty
Burns and Allen for ..for the comedy
So I knew.. as..  anyone else who  
Saw him day to day decline
That she was on her way home
By seeing the force of nature
He suddenly became
A human dynamo in preparation
For the reunification.

I walked through the front door
Sharon at my side and lacey in tow
"Go tell your brother to get in here "
So she yelled out the front door
"Trenton Dean Robertson get in here!"
Sharon and I met eye to eye
Bossiest little Seven year old....
"TRENTON now!"  I  yelled  out
"You better do what sis said"
He was now ten and tended to wander about
"I'm here "he said as he appeared
"Come on sis I'll beat you in...."
The last bit muffled
As they closed the basement door
And descending down the stairs

We both glanced into the closet
For that's what it really was
Dad sitting at the computer
And mom was on the screen
So I toted my load of groceries
As Sharon leaned in to say" hi "
And once we had supper going
I went to mix a drink and as I passed by
Dad said "son come here
Your mom wants to talk to you "
Besides we've been chatting  forever!
Then he whispered "I gotta go to the loo"
"Hi mom "I said as he departed
Leaving me to warm the seat
I'm not talking to your crotch
She said for at least the millionth time
There on the screen was the face
Of someone that I loved
Who never made it home that year
The flight was destined for history
Crashing into the Himalayas
Taking everyone on board
And the staunch became so rigid
And reality was simply ignored
He handed me a coke and opened his beer
Before resuming his vigil at the computer screen
That was his reality....his fantasy... and his hex
Some might say an old adage to sum it up
"IS IT LIVE.....OR IS IT MEMOREX?"

AS I drifted from the room they were merged.







..
There lies, at the hour of separation-
A brief moment where your thoughts
collide into one convoluted jumble of
remorse and a deep presence to understand
the feelings of emptiness
which currently reside at your core

The taste of leftovers, leftover
on your lips-
Begging for a reunion
A longing to recover
and a sensual desire to reminisce

The brush of barren skin against yours
Leaves and imprinted impression on your body
As the clay molds its shape into form, and color
Or lack of color-
Colorless

The expedition of nakedness
The emptiness you're left with
When the untying of  fingers
who were once clasped so tightly together

That feeling; Evades you
Slowly dissipates into uncharted territory

A vulnerable sense of direction-
Terrifies you, makes you shake
in your bones

You begin to understand, when
someone parts from you physically
all feelings fade into a memory,
a moment one could never return to

No matter how tightly you hold on
You can cling and claw at the moment
never to end

But you can never get it back

It's as though you've entered a dream
A weary existence
It poses the question
That what you've experienced
was ever even real to begin with

If you're lucky enough, or rather
unlucky enough, depending on the
given situation

To replay, fast forward, and rewind
Those fleeting moments in your mind

Whether or not you're capable of such abilities
precedes any notion that regardless of what you do
You can't be the "you", you were five, ten, fifteen minutes ago

Life is the clay, constantly molding, shaping
reshaping and reforming itself with each day.

Every second, minute and hour

Eventually you'll dry up
like a dead and wilted flower

You'll be just that

A ceramic piece of art
Forever lost in the echos of time and space

Shadow-less; in a world filled with shadows
© 2014 Christina Jackson
Fah Jan 2014
when i'm around you
       i feel the slow   paced    bass   line of the universe moving....

i can hear the galaxies turn
      and the atoms cascade as waterfalls in my mind with your electric fingers tracing my spine.



I am lightning without thunder, but you are not thunder nor the rain.

But a swift wind accompaniment to my silent flashes,

Wrapping the electricity with invisible peace .

*Do you know how beautiful it is to have someone that want to work with you? To take you for all you are and still manage to find the beauty in what you dreamt to be your ugliest scars...

showing beauty in the dark....

( yes, it seems  you too are another good one who knows the value of darkness...it seems many of us who seek this path do these days) *

---


We are
     the shimmer of light that reflects in the deep hollows of flute pipes      
echos around the womb like space of cosmos microcosm .

(I've felt love before , but this....this is not love as i used to know it..

This is a slow boiling , stewing and ripening with age mulled wine with toast and Camembert kinda thing )

----

Did you know coincidentally , your name is in the number 2013
and if i recall correctly ,
13 is the year  i met you in.

It's charming how these clever little signals appear when i'm around you -
contemplating you they emerge , another experience.


........

But in my space , i see the purpose here too -

perspective.

Because when i'm with you , it's pretty much just you.

(and whatever room we happen to be in ) - sometimes other things do appear but they are easy to dissolve.
---


we put definition on the imagination , sharing and the quest.... and that's one of the things i enjoy the most.

Peace x
"Count the sheep
To go to sleep"
Said my mom when i was little

"Count the sheep
Rather than weep"
And i listened
For that riddle

I listened for my mother
For my whole life
But for now

Now i must listen
When my heart
Subseeds to frown

And that riddle echos on
And my mind begins to spin
And without a doubt
I have to shout...
The sheep will soon run out

"Count the sheep
To go to sleep...
Until u count no more,
Then go to bed, and wait instead,
Until u know what you wait for."
One day you must say goodbye to the traditions of the past, you must also learn to recognise whats truely just.
My father worked the plant as
his father befor.
We worked until are hands bled and
are backs were sore.

History we made and many fine men spent there lives
in this very place.
Founded the union.
we are the backbone not a copperate
face.

Didnt bat a eye just said goodbye
catching the first outta town bus.
They saved there over payed *****
but what about us.

The working class people who gave there
sweat and tears.
A town inwhich the factory was built.
Old and young share bitter reflections over
stories passed down through the years.

More than jobs left with the closing
of the factorys doors.
Pain echos from broken souls.
it comes into are very essense seeps into the floors.

Years of memories gone without a
fuss.
They crunch numbers but were people.
You saved a billion but a whole town
ask's what about us?
Brycical Jul 2013
Sitting inside a cloud of shisha--
with subtle hints of strawberry shimmying
through the midnight moonlight,
the incandescent embers
radiate from their core
forming ancient runic shapes
reminding me of a time beyond the concept of before....

when elders spoke with ashes in their words
traveling to worlds within looking through
the windows to each other's souls
where the rhythm of a heartbeat
and the melody of breathing cacophonously echos
through our gray matter canyons.
A time when millennia passed by in milliseconds
as everyone danced like a flame grinding on a candle wick
wailing with ecstasy--
every bead of sweat slithering from head to feet
arousing like a maddening kundalini explosion--
a honey-like nectar glowing throughout our body
pouring out of us brilliantly brighter than any white-hot sun!

I think
this might be a reason for my fascination
when it comes to inhaling fire--
despite my earth-natured tendencies
I'm still hypnotized by the first gift to mankind;
light.
Brumous Jun 2021
Love can't be the solution for all,
I'm alright dancing alone,
waltzing with echos in the halls

It might be lonely,
but I am enough to keep me company

Stay away from me,
If love would hurt, I'd love myself first
Shut the door; needing it isn't a necessity.

I'll have the red string untied,
free from the boundaries of love
Taking a meaningless joyride,
from dawn to midnight
taking in the world so wide
It's enough having a friend by my side.

-Br.
Pas Seul - /ˌpä ˈsəl/
a dance for one person.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyN6o_Eyfl8
I prefer listening to songs while writing. This song feels calming since I've been blasting loud songs this past few days. I also used this song so that I can write it with a tad melody of some sort.
There is a person that I once knew.
Like a masterpiece in a museum
She hung on the walls of a good mans heart.

But back behind
The steady red velvet ropes,
there was not the proper light,
And her smile became shadowed and blurred.

The curator noticed the change
and in an effort to free her
Started washing her canvas with spirits,
a bottle shaped like escape.

It started changing her hue
And it freightened me
I knew she would not be here much longer
And that freightened me more.

I knew I would miss the
Endless eon skies
When her eyes met mine.
But she had to go and
I was left Gemini of heart

I still remember to this day
The soaring cobalt towers,
The little soul echos,
The stardust whisps that wished
Someone could comprehend
The poems
in her endless eon skies.
About an old friend, a person on a diferent time line who effortlessly caught everyone around her in a unicorn web of games, music, sci fi, and starwars everything :) i wish you well.
jasmine h Mar 2013
If I push forward
will i fall out the other side?

A portal to the future
where everything is more bright with florescent lighting and cold linoleum floors to fall on.

If i stick my hands through the mirror
each shard bypassed; easily now
then the universe tilts and i am suspended in time.

Falling softly into my future self,
gripping onto what i only know to be true.

Biting the fleshy bits of my lips
as i censor these tiny screams of frustration…

Its okay to let them echo.

No one can hear them except me.
Evan Crow Dec 2016
False sense and even more hopless logic.
The meak bleed the dream and the truth exists for the chosen .

Weaknes is a sin and in the darkness he awaits to embrace .
Shunned like you my child why seek exceptance when the cruel torment
And the so called wicked remain silent inspite there action's?

Part of my soul is never anothers to consume i made these steps alone dont give credit to none that have aided your efforts .

Embrace your desires burn in the flames of want and be truthful while others exist within there lies .

The wind holds more truths for it breathes life were hope only lends to help the weak remain.

Never seek acceptance .
The embrace awaits those not blind within heart.

Do not follow and you will never be led astray.
Truth is always the first victim to fear .

Bleed only for your own existance .
I bare no message to the ignorant .
Just a simple slap to the face harder than you may give to me.

Right your own rules before you become a fool for anothers .


Whispers in shadows .
AMcQ Jan 2017
There are depths within you
To which I cannot reach.
Where water drips
and echos in an
obscure cavern.
Where each drop leaves behind
its narrative,
on the pore from which it fell.
A story untold.
The vast space makes echoes of heartbeats.
But deafening silence resonated,
the day your heart skipped but one.
betterdays Jan 2016
it is a small thing
like sand in my shoe
this grief that wears
away my soul

but it is there always
in small moments
of wanting
in words lost to the
unhearing ear
in laughter that echos
thin in empty air

i still see you everywhere
but you are a year gone
from here...

your scent fades upon
your clothes....
your voice dims within
my mind.....
but your kindness remains
forever stitched within
my heart...
and your smile, before
my eyes,

it is a small thing
this grief within
my soul...
like sand in my shoes
both pleasant and wearing
MuseumofMax Aug 29
Breathe and sing


Words flow out of cherry black lips

like music notes leaping off a conductor’s page


Fingers straddle black and white keys

painting meadows of memory

A raspy voice whispers familiar lyrics to an unfamiliar tune


Smoky rooms smell of sweat and tobacco

Slinky dresses hide shadows of her past

a soulful song echos off of flowered wallpaper, curling at the edges


Her tune, so beautiful, only the few

gathered in the smoky sweat-thick twilight,

hear the secrets woven into its melody


Only a few in her audience

held in a musical trance -

Engulfed in her song; are surrounded by the secrets, the oceans of her past


They stand and sweat as they breathe her breaths

As they brave her battles -

As they hear her solemn moon-lit song


As they stand and sweat all night long
Iz Oct 2017
Echos expand the ice crystals in my mind
Coronas of galactic dust feed into my pupils
My eyes are moons leaking white fire
My heart explodes into a supernova for it cannot bear the things I did to you
The guilt kills the sun inside my chest
The guilt is Jupiter and my vision is a slave, for auspicious moons have not gravity to compete with astronomical planets
Here my limbs are constellations that drift from one another
Here my fingers bend into uncomprehendable wavelengths
Here I float, empty, into space.
When I saw  what could have been
what would have been
and what is now
I became an Earthen Absense.
Why does the tips of my crown
Resemble the bars of this cage
With those outsiders who come
To view me outside of my reign

My fierce and untamed nature
Does not fit with the oppressed
A queen outside of her kingdom
Still does not make her powerless

My roars cannot break the glass
It's echos drive wild and restless
All I can do now is sit and pace
With all this power without an outlet

My sharp claws are nature's daggers
Not enough for this man made surface
I am fed with no need to hunt
I am no longer the primal huntress

I am separated from my kind
With no use for my defences
I learned to live for only those
Who desire my entertainment

Soon my freedom will come
My escape is simply inevitable
I lie in wait as I gather my strength
This cage doesn't define my potential
A Renee Feb 2010
Can you remember the very moment

You learned your dreams were fairy tales

That your ambition is recited

From an endless paper trail

Another year deeper

In the wake of a dream  

The story of prince charming

Echos in your father’s voice

Like he’ll bring your happy ending

Like you have some sort of choice

And like the delicate princess

Boys guard their pedestal for

They’ll tread the unbloomed flowers

Already strewn on the floor

Another year deeper

In the wake of a dream  

Before you pull the hopes

Off children’s bookshelves

Remember, in the end

They’ll just learn for themselves

So go blind from the dress

And the white picket fence

Those paper trail dreams

Will start to make sense

Another year deeper

In the wake of a dream
Paddy Martin Nov 2010
I heard you calling quietly,
the voice in the night,
like a siren, just there,
but always out of sight.
I heard your promise,
as you hid there in the light.

I thought I might come to you,
as you gently called my name,
I felt myself drawn to you,
a moth drawn to the flame,
was this really happening,
some dream, perhaps a game?.

I awoke, still here. Alive!
The voice echos in my mind,
the voice that calls us all,
leaves not one of us behind,
the voice, the quiet voice,
sounds so gentle and so kind.

(c) 3rd October 2010
dj Apr 2012
clanking clank slurp, ka-boom
the slop runs down a throat
merrily merrily terribly chilled
the gunk rolls down a throat.

the
forks spoons knives
plates salts salads
and wines
ding and echo like
soft butterfly tea parties
all gone rabid.
throughout the walls of pictures of food
and the butterfly echos echo
and dinging cups splash
and forks click and clock
(and and,..and!)

hold my breath.

clanking cubes of ice
bing against one another
Gluttonous Pig slobs them down with
a spoonful of spicy French soup
Pigman talks to Pigwoman; spittle flying out of
his piggy chops.
he stares at my forehead
they see my odd selection
she's laughing insanely at a joke
I'm holding my eyes inside my head
while

all on my plate sit the legs
of baby spiders
all on my dish are darting
sow eyeballs
pitcher plant garnish
and frozen grey custard for dessert; (echos still in the restaurant)
I gag outloud
the Fat Pigman scoffs at this
my heart pops inside its cage
and the waiter rolls his eyes at the mess.
sometimes I will zone out and start listening to all the noises during my time at eateries. it's not enjoyable. this poem is about that.
Jackie McMahon Feb 2010
It’s a nightmare, its like everything was frozen here.
And I know you’re scared, but its involuntary,
I can’t stop this shaking.
I’m shivering because the frozen time gives me chills.
Cause when I come back to this place
I’m reliving former years yesterdays.

Its so much easier when I’m there to imagine
so much I can’t possibly fathom here.
Cause the static in my head makes it hard to get away,
I was sitting right behind you anyway.
The static in my head echos only the tempo and whip of your voice,
29 lashes, or is it 39 to the floor?
The only sound is here, everything else is covered in static,
or possibly dead.

I can’t shake this sound, I can’t keep my stomach towards the ground.
I’m shaking so hard, I’m violently trying to shake it.
My stomach is coming up through my throat and its yours for the taking.
I thought that maybe, I don’t know is was a stupid dream I guess.
But maybe, it’d get better when I left.
The thing that scares me the most is that I’m gone,
and I’m on my third page.
The thing that scares me the most is that I’m tripping through nightmares,
and its getting harder and harder to wake up.
Sienna Burroughs May 2013
it seems easy to believe,
in you and me
when the promise of the light in your eyes,
seeps through my indecision.

my fingertips sliding across the palate of your every inch.
the spaces i have touched painting, colors tracing my every outline,
intertwining between all the small details that define us.

red, like fire, conviction,
spreading across my chest with blinding heat.
echos of animosity, as the lingering flames crawl across the embers they once drew upon.

blue, breaking against waves of progress,
aches washing away with each pull of the moon.
White froths of inspiration.
the sun lay just above, you see?

forrest green, branching through my veins.
spinning life through my every corner.
your skin like spring,
leaves falling to my feet as you pull away once more.

grey, inhibitions.
tears, wrong way signs, fails and falters,
dancing themselves into a web,
tangling me into your response.

deep rust, connection.
iron lending to our foundation.
a place to plot the seeds of what could be.
a place to rest our old souls,
once our bodies can longer be seen.
jennifer Mar 2014
Like an old abandoned house,
I have boarded the windows
So no one can see out or in.
The door is locked and double bolted
And the furnace is unlit
Because nobody has gotten close enough
Or close at all,
To the fireplace in the center, slightly to the right
To strike a match and ignite it.
Its cold and dark,
And the ghosts of the past float around,
Warning whoever comes near
That I'm only good for a demolition
Not a remodeling team.
The attic is clustered and filled
With regret
The euphoric sense that I have longed for
Was packed in a box,
Which the previous tenant took
When he left.
The floorboards creak with melancholy
And the deafening silence
Echos the loneliness of a mind
That is both too empty and too full
All at once.
Its beautifully strange
And there's a certain mystery
That draws people to me,
But not enough to make them stay.
JasFow Jun 2019
I travel all over the state
Different jobs, never the same hotel
Always alone in my bed
This week I reddened from the sun
First visit to the beach
Mini vacation to forget what’s in my head
Then I invite him in my room
Both drunk from downing cheap spirits
Scared of the outcome I still say come in
We watch tv and make small talk
An hour passes and we lay side by side
He looks at me and we both know
Under the influence our smiles match
A touch of my leg, his hand is gentle
We hug and he leaves for his room
Not ten minutes pass and I invite him back
All I offer is to cuddle
My face still warm from the burn
I changed to shorts and a cropped sweater
He joins me back and lays in my bed
His arm is comforting around me
Turning to look at him I realize he’s not
who I have been seeing
He is all the bad
But also good that he hides
I can’t remember if I did or if he did
We lean in and his lips are soft
His tongue opens my smile and I accept it
Fitting perfectly in his side I wrap around
His legs entangled with mine
Pulling me closer he grabs me tenderly
It’s another man in love with someone else
Yet here I am being held in his strong arms
Falling back, I remind him of his other
Admitting it’s complicated we just hold each other
A silent kiss is shared once more
He escapes back
The feeling of his hands rubbing my back echos my mind
Kissing my forehead while my eyes are closed, it remains
We’ll act as if it never happened
I’ll live with the memory and try to hate him less at work
Now back home we go
What a trip.
Im not sure what is happening but I’m just going with it all.
Were all crazy the dreamers the broken like children left
behind sad eyes are but windows  cast in pain.
that hurt we share as some will hide it away.

Ive taken the matter in deep thoughts and  echos of brillance.
Only to see it die as a spark  from cold winters fire.
Alone you here the sadness in the most gentle key.

As it wispers for the broken.
Down alleys side streets to lonley old souls
who yern just for someone to speak with to share but
are met with only rejection left to count the hours.

The clocks rythm taps slowey asking the emptyness to
waste in thought only to bask in dellusion.
Like a snow globe were caught in a vortex of a isolated storm.

Yerning for a release the bed is a coffin frozen are the covers
as the thought lingers if only it had gone another way.

But dreamers are gamblers and in the warmth of good hand theres always a lonley heart that had to fold.


The man in the street looks to other as others  look through him.
Afraid the curse may catch but in his eye's i see myself.
And  in myself  I see a victem of another bad hand.

Alone I know you in that place few will dare to search.  
The cavern of thought is but my asylum of  emptyness
And the clock's rythm keeps time in the key of night.
This is but something i wrote of the top of my head.
Itwas for a part of a book  that like much of my efforts  falls flat i write late at night and in these late night scribblings i put togather a book that was anything but gonzo.
These works were called The Still Night Sessions    hopefully  this didnt bore ya to death anyways stay crazy

John
Wanderer Feb 2016
The echo of his fingertips
Resonates through cyber cerebral tinsel bright ends
I sigh into the lengthening shadows
Knowing that with each minute gone
Another day has passed that I don't know the weight of those echos
I know only of their missing
With tenderness.
maxime Mar 2017
I was always fascinated by echoes,
Even long before I understood them.
To call out for help, and finally have someone respond,
Now that was a miracle in my naive eyes.

When I got older I traveled more.
I explored new places with hills and valleys.
The echos stayed constant, they always responded.
The echos brought me false comfort, and I thought they would keep me alive.

Now I have led myself into a cave.
The echoes are louder here, yes,
But they do not bring me comfort as the once did,
The echoes leave me as cavernous as the place I stood.

A droplet of water falls from the ceiling as a tear runs down my face.
Boulders fall as I collapse in on myself.
Because as I stood there listening for echoes,
I realized I would rather hear your voice instead.
Magean Martin Jul 2011
The music started ever so lightly,
The radiant sounds of the violin mixes with the piano.
The echos danced from one surface to another
pleasuring the ear drums of many.
Flutes, clarinets chimed creating a higher harmony
to change the mood deep with in.
A constant heartbeat increasing.
The violins punch each note with suspense and love.
The instruments have their way with words,
in the darkness creating brilliant light.
The music slowly dies, the thunderous applause
travels through out triggering my success.
The room empties leaving me alone on stage to relive the night.
Reliving my creations.

— The End —