Poetry
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Sometimes, a tearwill let go, at the sightof fallen snow. I wantto keep revivinga stagnant signal,to keep thrivingwhat lives me onin those white clouds,dropping these markson unfolded roads. At times, I’ll screamout, what keeps me loosened,from seams. What has kept mewandering, among such scenes? What else, other thanyour light, that never goes astray,guiding me, between…
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Your sunshinegoes out, in a nighttime shoutto your departing heartthat poked through the sand,finding where teardrops would land. You were the only witnessto these petals that downpourtheir fall, from grace,from this vast spacea garden used to grow.You were, once, that oneto keep me leaning towardsa rising sun, being that oneto live on, to keep opena…
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Another dreamflickers, though it doesn’tflick back on the light,when haze is allto be received, among thisdiluted night. I wrap aroundthorns, to keep me company.I have worded recalled promisesupon fallen snow,awakening to moonlight,withdrawing immaculacyto never show. All I wanted,without senseless comparisonwas a hand upon a feeble heart,to let go of never knowingwhen love would stop glowing.…
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Even thoughthere is evidence, to showthere is a crude aftermathto all this diligence,we still come around,like rocks that dream to float. I lured our eyes here,tempting us, in these hallwayswhere memories might haveturned this around, might have changedthe darkness, where claritycould not be arranged. Hauntings are clingingonto arms, kissing our foreheadslike a scalding fever,reminding usthat…
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For this, beneath,I must be silenced,in holding your head.Both of us are dressedfor the disguised dead. Direst admiration.A complexity, to this designation.I see what took turnsreprimanding itself,finding its spotwith internal stains, because, did no onefind purpose, through to you?Into that one rock, you became,with motionless comparisonof no one and nothing else. I am here, to…
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I have been,constantlyremoving your presencefrom a heartthat went sour,at our ending –an ending of ours, as you were focusedon a direction, directionless,while shouldersare given wind,given storms. I’ll cryuntil that moonfind its wayacross, and setswith the sun. I’ll wonder why,knowing that I’ll continue.I’ll continue on,releasing hopeless sighsto loosen springtime seeds. Perhaps your facewill appear in a…
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I’ve carried farlittle things,for your appreciation.Still, I am farfrom sinking in,being far, from being withinthe warmest infinite. If I canenlarge this stare,breathe in your same air,I have held a diamond closeto the surfaceof waters,that were always deep. I will relivesomething I once felt,a while ago,kissing your smile,in the snow,craving more secondsfor higher sentencesof promise,while we…
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I pull backcovers, to revealone thing to see,a face that breathesits whispering wordsfrom beneath, connecting with your regretto explore what you cannot believe. I hold knives against this heart,hoping that you will igniteyour hopelessness, for the purposeof gathering your start – your sightto see what’s being offeredfrom this shelter of me. I’ve held those monsters…
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A burial, beneatha lighthouse, upona weathered shore.A line had been drawnto communicate our distance, as it wasthis disassembling passing. I live to drinkof that last mile,carving pain into these waters,hearing my heartbeatwandering into those depths,yet yearning for servicebeyond this darkness. I have loved,remaining as a sinking shipnever deserting its ocean.I call out for echoesto return…
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Carried underthe returning eyes,the swellingof countless times to crybefore a sunsetthat speaks to its mark,of an ending to daytime’shinted mystery. Walking underthe breaking of a spark,because hope had peaked itselfbefore we abandonedthe leftover mark. Another tragicrewinding to another daywhen all our fearsare counted, leaning intothe union of dismaywith the fears of yesterday. Another time to…
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Another loosened teardropblending in with rain,as I cling here, to walls,reunited with the sadnessonce more, under this hazeof distance and madness. I have come, here,wanting something near,as I have framedyour face, another timein the thinnest of borders, hoping to both remove youfrom freedom to this mind,and to remember whatkeeps blooming you. Holes in these hands;sacrificial,…
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We left our burial,of its golden color, forgettingwhat would keep ussurrendering in its entanglement.We are bleeding winterfrom our veins –ice-covered roots,mixing with a silver sheenfrom one remembrance,one encroaching moon. We are matchingwhat takes to emptyingour throats, our voiceof its substance.Take us to be children,lifting our eyesto see who scorns us,among our mire-coated bodies –of disdain…
Modern Romanticism 