As the picture fades out and time moves on
People age and laughter dies out quickly
As time will tell and love becomes a con
Rumors fly and lies spread very swiftly
The camera flashes oh so cold
The clocks fly by with tiresome faces
Love becomes our strong and only hold
Tons of faded pictures are in cases
Yet one goes through those cases to find what
Broken hearts, lost loves; more faded pictures
Broken clocks, laughter's gone, an open cut
That bleeds like the sweet and sour mixtures
The days of yesterday may come and go
Just like the day of love's own picture show
Sunday, August 16, 2009
letters
Lost letters linger on the last shelf
hoping to be held in the hands of the heartfelt receivers.
Years of yearning, young so long ago.
Wandering down the deep dark shelves, desperate and
longing to reunite the lost loves of long ago.
hoping to be held in the hands of the heartfelt receivers.
Years of yearning, young so long ago.
Wandering down the deep dark shelves, desperate and
longing to reunite the lost loves of long ago.
soul
close your eyes
free your mind
set your soul at ease
open your eyes
blot out bad thoughts
and let your soul breathe
free your mind
set your soul at ease
open your eyes
blot out bad thoughts
and let your soul breathe
emotions
running through seclusion
nothing all around
worlds of laughter
yet tears the only sound
a key with no lock
a window with nothing there
your only expression
the silent stare
nothing all around
worlds of laughter
yet tears the only sound
a key with no lock
a window with nothing there
your only expression
the silent stare
Thursday, August 13, 2009
the writer
I the eternal dreamer
watch the surreal men
with their drunk vision
try to please and fill the empty voids
of the gorgeous metaphoric women
absurd lust creates
a psychedelic miasma
where metaphoric women
delirious and manipulated
by a replusive passion
are frantically searching
for that essential moment
and I the eternal dreamer
watch as the lives of the
surreal and metaphoric
are thrown away
then turn my non existing attention
else where
watch the surreal men
with their drunk vision
try to please and fill the empty voids
of the gorgeous metaphoric women
absurd lust creates
a psychedelic miasma
where metaphoric women
delirious and manipulated
by a replusive passion
are frantically searching
for that essential moment
and I the eternal dreamer
watch as the lives of the
surreal and metaphoric
are thrown away
then turn my non existing attention
else where
thoughts to an unknown soul
a voice echos off the empty walls
too many thoughts to be contained
yet no mortal ear, nor heart to hear
the cry of the writer's dreams
so onto paper with with pen
do I write
and so I'll echo endlessly
into the the night
too many thoughts to be contained
yet no mortal ear, nor heart to hear
the cry of the writer's dreams
so onto paper with with pen
do I write
and so I'll echo endlessly
into the the night
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
...
Night follows the darkness of day
That crushed the joys of tomorrow
The winds that blow are cold and strong
Emptiness embraces me
I sit upon the sands of time
As the harsh sea tries to claim my mortal soul
The darkness swirls with emptiness
As night does its dance
My mind whirls with thoughts of confusion
My tired body lay beaten on the sand
Night strolls around circling me with darkness
Emptiness seeps into my veins
Come my sun
Bring life back into my soul
That crushed the joys of tomorrow
The winds that blow are cold and strong
Emptiness embraces me
I sit upon the sands of time
As the harsh sea tries to claim my mortal soul
The darkness swirls with emptiness
As night does its dance
My mind whirls with thoughts of confusion
My tired body lay beaten on the sand
Night strolls around circling me with darkness
Emptiness seeps into my veins
Come my sun
Bring life back into my soul
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