: Free ebook sample of "Pomes" by P. Osito

1. 1998.01.03

This book of horrors that

one unlocks

unbarring all within

for the sun dares not to shine

down onto

all those covered with sins.

Dark it remains,

in the farthest of corners

and dark it will be,

for no mortal eyes should look

upon the immortal souls of these.

Flee away from these souls forlorn,

I do not want to see your scorn,

for your pity and your compassions

tears me apart

and brings no comfort

to this unfeeling heart.

2. 1998.06.17

Life and Death are delicately

balanced upon a blade.

A life that is not my own,

is not worth living.

3. 1998.06.29

How fleeting life is,

like a candle

that flickers in the wind.

Madness is not the ledge

that I have descended upon,

but the cloak that hides

the great unhappiness that I feel.

Slowly I drop,

further into the despair

that has become me.

Or perhaps it is depression.

I can seek no solace for there is

no shelter for the sinner.

4. 1998.06.29

Be still,

and the beat slows --

soon a river of red will flow

and look to that day

where my past

no longer haunts me

where happiness is

a road to travel.

Soon comes the day of

release, relief and rejoicing.

No longer will I be both

the bearer and the scorned.

5. Signs of Loss – 1998.07.11

Cynicism is usually the first sign.

Then it is a recession

into a formal persona which

includes formal diction and nuances.

Then one observes a 'distancing' of the

patient from surrounding peers

-- an isolation phase

Finally, absolute isolation is intertwined

with a delusional mode of thought.

Depression -- is that the word

that I am looking for?

Cynicism -- is that what I really feel?

My dishonourable actions

reflect upon the honour and

reputation of my friends

-- better if I do not cast

my shadow upon their light.

6. 1998.07.11

Hollow, hollow -

that is what I feel -

a vessel of emptiness

that would sooner overflow

with the bitterness

that overwhelms me.

If I were to go,

I don't believe too many

would mourn the loss -

for it would be a removal

of the blight

that tarnishes the shine

upon their honour.

It is not really a loss -

perhaps better seen as a release

from this cell

that is the invisible prison

of my life.

Without honour, I am nobody,

risen from the dust,

as Adam's child, I return.

Soon, that day comes

when this frail body

becomes one with the earth -

and the soul, my soul!

will leave

to embark on the journey

beyond living.

And that day will be

a day of joy - no longer

of pain.

I look to that time,

with great yearning

and anticipation.

I put back my feelings

into that box of ice --

better not to feel anything

than to constantly face pain.

The pain draws my attention

away from the fear,

the hate,

the cold that exists

in my life.

Pain dulls your sense

to all others -

to watch life

through a hazy window

that cannot look away.

7. Falling – 1998.07.11

Falling

falling

into the welcoming arms of darkness

-- how soothing it is

everything is placed within

a box like

an automaton - unfeeling,

unthinking.

And so I am

like a Russian doll

one within another

our faces painted smiles,

our insides empty

holding nothing

but meaningless

memories.

And the world continues to spin,

regardless of the time,

there is no rest for the sinner

Oh how weary I am.

I am my own burden,

walking through

this endless path

of unceasing despair.

There are days that I dream --

how fleeting mine are,

of a life without pain

almost doll-like in nature,

but I know

it is only

a false image

that tantalizes and

teases my soul.

Dancing towards and

then away from my outstretched

fingers,

this faint hope

dims

as my eagerness

vanishes in time.

Darkness looms over me.

Once, I will embrace its

warmth and bid

a quiet farewell

to this world.

The few that knew me,

would shed some tears,

but this final act

of redemption

should give me

in death what I could

not have in life.

8. Emptiness – 1998.07.11

The emptiness that engulfs me,

that roils and turns over

like a restless beast from

the depths of darkness.

I feel nothing: no joy,

no sorrow -- no feeling

but this soul-wrenching emptiness.

I will sooner kill myself

than reveal this terrible face to the world.

My anger,

rumbled in a urge

for release but

I cannot let it go.

It protects me

from the hurt that would

surely follow upon the

feelings of defeat.

I must school myself --

say nothing, express nothing,

just do.

Every time

that I have said something,

I received nothing

but defeat in return.

Every time

that I have expressed something,

I have received only

scorn and mockery.

This has come to an end,

I exist no longer.

From this day forth,

I no longer walk

upon this Earth.

The soul that once was,

has left the husk

that held it.

No one mourns the loss

of something that never was.

Do not mourn my loss

for I have set myself

free.

The soul, if not the body,

has joined within

the greater Dance of Life.

No more does it

limit itself to a frail

corpse that could not

dance.

9. Trains – 1998.07.11

one

two

three

how neatly my lines

arrange themselves.

I want to see the railroads

that run across

expanse of pale flesh.

Throbbing red and blue,

a steady beat

against the surface.

How often does the train run ?

It's never quite on time.

Some days, it runs more often,

others, it comes not at all.

Who runs the train ?

Is it fate ? Or is it man ?

I really cannot tell you;

I can't see a light

at the end of this tunnel,

maybe it's too dark.

This train runs on

a downhill slope,

it does not travel upwards.

The ride is always

down

down

down.

can you buy a ticket ?

I'd rather you did not,

there are no stations

from here to there

-- just a trip filled

with good intentions.

Tell me who the conductor is,

is it really you ?

The conductor is not the engineer,

the conductor is not on the train.

Are there any passengers

on board

for this trip to Hell ?

I really cannot say;

there's no way to tell.

It starts in Life

and ends in Death,

is that not enough ?

No windows for the scenery,

no bunkers for a rest,

this trip to Hell is

now Express

and does not stop along way.

So when the trip ends

with the train meeting the end of

its tunnel,

I suspect there

is no turning back.

There is no return fare

no chance to turn around,

The train has stopped

simply because

it has run aground.

10. Heart – 1998.07.11

So much poetry

fills these pages

pouring out

my heart.

My heart is empty,

nothing shines,

nothing light.

Wrench it out --

the pain

is too much to bear.

Take the wretched organ

and still the pulsing beat.

Draw breath no more,

draw in the last

remnants of happiness

in your memories.

Hold them dear;

for they are in the past

and there is no future

that I can see.

11. Woe – 1998.07.19

Once upon a time,

there was a family

of a mother, father

and three happy children.

It was many years ago,

once upon a time,

the tale is old,

the story past

and the children

happy no more.

When did this tale of woe

began, I really cannot say.

All I know is that

the magic's gone

and we have no ending at all.

12. Salt – 1998.07.19

A slight tang of salt

sequestered in a tear

lick the drop away

hold it very dear

The hollow feeling

pings against

the emptiness that once was

The thumping sound

of blood in veins

rocks

then stops.

13. Pandora’s Box – 1998.08.08

The mind is a Pandora's box

chock full of emotions

with the carelessness

of a hint

emotion is released

Slowly

it drips

onto our consciousness

and flows

blood red

through my eyes

And if I could

I would go back to

that day

to never have opened

that box.

14. 1998.08.08

Warmth

lies in the light

just as despair

surrounds us

The happiness of living

holds the sorrow

at bay

But does it really?

Darkness holds us enthralled

enchanted by its sheer power

Squeezing

squeezing

my soul

pulses slowly

and does not struggle

against the warmth

of

the

darkness.

15. Ask – 1998.08.08

People often wonder why do I

indulge upon the forbidden --

why do I immerse myself in

my anime, my fan-fiction,

my comics or my 'interests'

as they were.

I cannot tell them that

this is Escapism at its max.

People often ask me why do I

act so anxious to see others

happy

and I cannot tell them

that that is the only moment

where I can see -- happiness

for there is none in my own life

And people ask: why are you so formal

and I cannot tell them

that this keeps them safe --

from my pain,

my anger,

my failures in the world

and they ask: why not let go of the anger

and I cannot say

on with anger and despair

do I still know

that I am living

And people ask: what are your dreams

and I cannot answer;

those without feeling

cannot dream

Once I dreamt of life

beyond the first quarter

but now, I don't think

that my parents should

seek children of my body --

such is the chilliness

that freezes my soul

-- eternally captive in

a frozen state

I can only imagine their

shock

anger

disbelief

to hear that their daughter

is not normal but ____

but perhaps it is better

that I seek love

elsewhere

than believed

Bondmates and childmates

to borrow words from Herriot

-- something I cannot seek.

16. Wine – 1998.10.04

This wine of

bitterness

that flows within the soul

slowly travels

from heart

to throat

to mind

There is no real

answer to this thirst

of bitterness

that has

bitten me

Free will has

long since been

something

that I dream of

but do not hope for

Attempts to assert

oneself

are as futile

as ice on

a warm

summer's day

One day

it will come to an end

where all things sought

are found

Where freedom

of the soul

is found from

without

as the spirit

slowly

drifts away.

17. Ice – 1998.02.18

Ice

is it possible to feel

so cold inside

that nothing

shows without?

Is it possible to

freeze all your

emotions

yet

live without?

There is a wall of ice

that surrounds me

holding a-bay

that which would

probably kill me...

Ice

is what keeps me alive

yet deadens me inside;

if you cannot feel,

you cannot hurt,

you cannot weep,

and most importantly,

you survive.

Surviving

is not living,

that is something else

altogether.

Surviving

is living

without

hope.

without

love.

without

life.

There is this fist

that clenches

around my heart

what little left there is...

it clenches each time

to ensure that

I continue

to breath

to see

but

not to live.

Ice

is the only shelter I have

against the winds

buffet around me.

It is the shield that

would make me and

break me in the same day

- shelter against the winds

but leeching my meager life.

Ice is the one constant

in my days;

none other can pierce so cleanly

the frail bit which is my soul.

Water is soft

yet hard at the same time

for does it not form ice?

and does it not surround you

with warmth

and coldness

at the same time?

Ice

is the only anchor

within the ocean

of emotions

that I travel

that I have

that I end with.

18. Numb – 1999.05.21

Numbness.

Standing stock still

a reddened print on the side

numbly watching

welcome

into my heart

the pain

that assaults me

embrace it

like an old friend

the only

friend

I've ever known.

I am numb.

19. Rules – 1999.07.16

1. Loneliness is your friend. Do not lose sight of your isolation.

2. No feelings. No pain. Feel nothing. Want nothing.

3. The pain assaults you, embracing like an old friend. The only friend ever known.

4. Your goal is to survive. Survive from minute to minute. From second to second. From day to day.

5. Remember nothing. Feel nothing. Say nothing.

6. Silence is a gift. Treasure it.

7. The ice that surrounds you is a shelter. Face away from the world.

8. Live in the now. There is no future.

9. Reveal nothing. Revel in nothing.

10. Forget your past. Tabula rasa.

20. 1999.08.21

When they say that love hurts,

I don't believe that they were

describing a physical pain.

Well... it is a physical pain,

a fist that clenches your chest

and squeezes.

21. 1999.09.04

There is a hole that exists

in the center of my soul -

my heart is empty,

my soul unfulfilled.

There is an emptiness that pervades my life

- a barrenness that lives within me

- a lifelessness that begets naught

- a sullenness that reads like whitenesss

- a tundra of confusion

that is endless.

22. 1999.09.04

My sins are catching up to me,

surely and slowly

I am confronted

by the ideal

and my flaws show up.

I cannot hide

from the mirror

where eyes not my own

look out

onto me.

Where lives not lived

fill my book.

Where love is a barren thought

and hate the dominant trait.

I wait

for the day

where I will be free

to live

to die

to love

to hate

to feel something

I have not felt in twenty years.

23. 1999.09.04

I am

a canvas

tattered and torn

no longer

the pure colour

I was.

All my mistakes are here

all my faults are here

all the attempts

and failures

are here

there is no image here

that I can see.

24. 1999.09.04

To treasure the days

that once were

I keep

a calendar -

when I might has seen a movie

when I might have had a lunch

when I might have enjoyed a day

and I treasure these days

because I can count them

on two hands

but never three

and never again.

I have four, no five

of such calendars

each year

carrying the days

that I might have lived

a day or two

My days are filled now

with mindless work

with thoughtless chores

that fill but do not sustain.

My mind struggles

to not think,

just do,

don't feel,

just do,

don't talk,

just do,

don't emote,

just do.

To not feel - the ultimate in protections;

to not emote - the utmost in skill.

I too, look towards the day

where I can leave the life

that is my sham

the hoax that has lasted

for so long.

There comes a time

where I won't be needed,

hated, loved, or sought

- I am waiting for that day.

So that my relief will

be palpable

and my sorrow

intangible.

I am waiting.

I will be patient.

25. 1999.09.04

The disappointment

is a tangible bitterness

on my tongue.

The hatred

that fills their eyes

batters against

the isle that is

me.

To mingle with the shrieks

of an albatross

that is stranded here.

On the desert island

that resembles no paradise,

there is no message in the bottle

no hope for redemption,

there is no escape.

26. Time – 2000.03.06

Time is fleeting when she is here...

as is all things...

time is relative when she's not here.

for that which we wait...

time stretches to an unbearable length

as the grains of time slowly sink

yet, when you are together

there is never enough time,

for it speeds and slows

27. Dark Souls – 2000.03.06

we are all dark souls

waiting for the light to find us

or we to find them

so that their light

may burnish away our pain

yet never dim their joy

for no one should go throughout life

without their light.

28. Thorns – 2000.03.06

The path of thorns

is strewn with rocks

and as we tread carefully

amongst the stones

we avoid those that we feel would hurt us

both the joy

and the pain

that makes us grow

and so it is,

that we try

to lead safe lives

that are sterile in comfort

and cool in reality

such that we miss

those that would love us

and lead us through

till the end of days.

29. Ironic – 2000.03.07

Is it not ironic

to believe in soulmates

but never find your own?

To realize that

halves

are not always halves

and a peg

in a square hole

still does not fit

To watch

in a detached manner

that all of those

around you

are happy

which lends

a measure

of satisfaction

but know that

you return to

no place

that is

home

For your soul

is not there,

but out

seeking one

to complete

the puzzle.

30. Isolation – 2000.03.07

The emptiness that surrounds me

protects me from the pain;

with no love

there are no feels

of happiness,

joy,

pain,

loneliness.

There is no fear

of the future

nor the past

that binds me tightly

to the road.

The road I travel

is a lonely one

with no signs

nor

travelers

along the way.

31. Cold – 2000.03.07

It is cold comfort that I take

to know that I am

searching

for the light

that is my soul.

One that would

quench my thirst for love

such that my spirit tires

in the struggle.

To know that there -is- a one

meant for me

that accepts me

as I am

as I was

as I will be.

It is with cynical grace

that I live

withdrawn from life

but for a bar

where I write

to drown my sorrows.

It is with futility

that I search

for that other half

of the soul -

a treasure beyond price

to be held carefully

for they would

hold my heart

and cleave my soul.

It is the lingering pain

of the fear

that binds me tightly

and carefully.

32. 2000.03.12

There is a certain sense

of perversity

held against lovers

such that

their fates suffer

both in the throes of passion

and the entanglement of pain.

The inability to stop

loving makes us

so vulnerable

that it almost

seems more desirable.

33. Satin – 2000.04.13

There is the tantalizing feel of satin

sliding across your skin

carefully

drifting

across

the

peaks

and valleys

that shelter the sweet taste

of

your

body.

34. One – 2000.04.15

One is the number

that separates the near from the far.

One day -

for every day that separates them,

one day is too long

every day that is between

feels like a year

a lifetime

many lifetimes.

One day -

for every day that they are together,

it is never enough

every day passes too quickly

each memory is a lifetime

each moment is a treasure

One separates

the other...

by virtue

of distance

of age

of time

35. Moon – 2000.04.26

The moon

three thousand miles

across the land

the moon rises

and a lonely heart

offers her thoughts

to the moon

in hopes that

the one she loves

will, too,

look to the sky

and think of her

Separated

by time

and distance

the two lovers

love apart

sharing with the moon

their deepest thoughts.

36. Colours – 2000.04.29

The colours of love

are such that it runs

beyond 256 and more than 100,000

for the colour is blue

when you cannot find it

and a pale pink

of the first blush

it is the yellow sunshine

that fills your day

and the black of the nights

you share

it is the millions of shades

of grey

that lie between

yes

and no

it is the green of the envy

you feel

and the diamond clear tears

when she cries

it is the red

that marks the anger

of the first argument

and the light blue

when she forgives you

grey is the colour

that represents us both best;

a mixing of two lives

and two hearts.

it reminds me of the mist

just before the dawn

and the subtle shadows

that fill the room

we share

and flesh is the colour

as I feel your skin

against mine

flushed pink with exertion

and our cheeks

turn a soft rose

the first time our eyes meet

even as our souls

have communicated

beyond

like

the colours of the sky

red marks the first roses you give

and aqua are your eyes

as your flush

becomes

a swirl

of colours.

37. Awakenings – 2000.04.30

The morning mist that lies

lightly over the land shimmers

as I watch you

in the early hours of the day

I trace the sharp contours

softened by sleep

with my eyes,

as I so often do

in the wee hours of the day

Always

in awe of this gift

you've given,

something beyond price

and treasured like a dragons gold

Slowly the sun rises

and with it,

the last vestiges of sleep

are washed away.

As the sunrise warms the air

I watch you stretch

angling your arms just so

around me

enfolding me in your love

It is a luxurious feel,

to be wanted,

for naught than

being myself

I forget my worries and sorrows

concentrating only on you

the one other even in my life

that captivates my attention

so completely

that I forget myself.

38. Ambrosia – 2000.05.02

There is a certain piquancy in love,

to have tasted it once,

is like ambrosia,

to live without -

sweet torture.

Having only eaten gruel

for so long,

the taste of honey -

can never be erased;

it lingers long after

its gold drops are

treasured.

Like a delicacy

one would be so lucky

to visit

that candy store

where this golden treat

is kept.

So well hidden

that we are never entirely sure

that we are looking

for the real thing.

Too often

do we deny ourselves

and others

the sweet taste

of this joy,

because we've never seen it,

never sought it.

-title by KS

39. Dark Soul – 2000.05.02

Sitting in the dark

I see so clearly

the outlines of the

things that lie

in my room.

The pale moonlight shines

casting a hazy sheen

on all that is below.

Struggling to peer

in the dark,

I wonder at my eyes -

do they really see?

I feel blinded,

surrounded

by a wall of ice.

Muffling that which

sees so clearly -

the heart.

I wonder -

how long will I last -

lurking in the penumbra,

gazing longingly

at the sun,

but kept in the shadows.

For although I remain

hidden,

I take joy,

and some pleasure

at those

that revel

in the sun.

For I am envious

of their joy,

but in a bizarre way,

I gain pleasure -

something about

experiencing the joy

second handedly.

And as I watch,

I dream of the shadows

where I hide,

comforting

in their darkness.

A familiar companion

to a dark soul.

- title by KS

40. The Unseen – 2000.05.02

At so many strokes past midnight,

I remember,

that I am,

the unseen.

I hear,

the unheard.

I remember,

the forgotten.

To live vicariously

through others.

I struggle to remember

myself -

if there is such a thing.

For I am

molded by expectations-

and must fulfill

them first.

As the words run across the page,

I am reminded

of their permanence.

- title by KS

41. 2000.05.08

Angst

slowly

my heart freezes

and in the middle

I hear a gasp -

a clenching of the organ

against the choke around it.

And as my fingers slow

and my eyes slowly shutter,

I remember the bitter

sweet taste that filled

my mouth.

42. Harsh – 2000.05.05

Harsh intrusions on life

means that

my hand falls away

from the tablet it held.

43. Reminder – 2000.05.11

A subtle reminder to myself

of the emptiness that surrounds us

Cushioned in the business

of the day

we are reminded of the hollow nights.

A slow pain

tears through

the hours

calling to us

a fellow traveler

of the lonely road.

As it winds past

the white picket fence

on a path overgrown

with weeds.

The house is abandoned

a ruined effigy

of what once was.

Soon,

we move beyond the road,

searching for another path

that might take us

to the water.

So that my single boat

might take me

to the island

of my lonely days.

44. Storm Clouds – 2000.05.12

Quickly the lightning

moves across the sky

followed by the rumblings

of a far-off thunder.

And my heartbeat jumps

in time with the storm.

And so I return

to the barren landscape

that has captivated my attention

outshining all the others.

And as the storm clouds near,

I remember the gentle rains

of yesterday,

warm and wet weather...

- title by KS

45. Two – 2000.05.15

Two is the number

that is prime.

For the path that two hearts travel

is such that we never see

the tears they shed

the laughter they share

and the joy

they find together.

It is always

more than twice the fun

and much less than twice the sorrow

It is seldom

the time that we remember

spending it with

the other half

for

no longer is

one plus one

two

but one.

It is two hearts

sharing

one memory,

two souls

living

one day.

46. Three – 2000.05.15

Three is the number

for stability.

For there is no longer

a simple

you

and

I.

But we.

It becomes more than just

two lives apart

but one life together

and we are reminded

that both you

and I

carry memories

and together

we make more.

47. Infinity – 2000.05.16

There are no words

to describe

the depth of happiness

you inspire

I cannot begin

to express the feelings

that bubble through

every time

my thoughts

turn towards you

Everything that I see

carries a remembrance

of your smiling eyes

that I willingly

drown in

Every sound I hear

carries your voice

to my ears

your honeyed words

that both inflame

and sooth

at the same time

Every breath I take

reminds my heart

of the other

that laid so close

Every thought consumes me

in a slow heat

that captures my attention

more surely

than a thousand lights

Every step I take

is on the path

towards you,

seeking that day

when our lives

are more than just

the sum of our

phone calls,

and email

and fleeting days together

I look to that time

where our separation

is measured in minutes

and not weeks

Where our memories

outlast our loneliness

Where our life together

stretches past

our lives apart.

48. Rain – 2000.05.16

The droplets land quickly

against heated skin

leaving that brief sizzle

as the warmth

of my flesh catches the rain

I watch the storm clouds gather

darkening the sky

and I remember

that day

where you and I

spent a happy time

dancing

in the spring rains

Our happy innocence

was replaced by

soft touches and

an afternoon spent

in front

of the fire

And as I stand out here

in this brief storm

I travel back

to that day

where my memories

are so fresh

And I can only feel

the wet misery

that the rain leaves

and I slowly

return

to an emptiness

that echoes through

my heart

49. Hidden – 2000.05.17

Hidden in the shoals

of the mind

are the subtle horrors of

a life not lived,

of a half-made attempt

at finding strength

Hidden is the

tightening of the fist

surrounding the heart

squeezing in distress

and never forgetting

the pain

that drives us

slowly

towards a precipice

where we dangle

like puppets

at the hands of

our own fate

Hidden

are the pangs of guilt

that assail you

in the middle of the night

when comfort cannot

be sought nor

given

Hidden

is the pain

behind the brighter smile

and clearest laughter

like a grey cloud

behind the morning sun

Hidden are my memories

in the maze that is my mind

to be packed away

in a small black box

only to be seen

in that lightless place

where we reside

Hidden

is the cost of pain

that is tolled each time

I read this

knowing full well

that the pain

does not go away

A cost that we pay

each time we think,

each moment we feel

Hidden

is the melancholy

that rules me.

50. Demons – 2000.05.17

As I sit here

in the dark

a slow paralysis

overtakes me

And I forget that

I can feel

and slowly

my mind flees

from the demons of

my past

only to find them

in my future

And as I watch

the shadows fall

across the walls,

the darkness has

caught up with me

The comfort of the shadows

is nothing

compared to the

pain that runs strongly.

-title by KS

51. Shadows – 2000.05.16

I sit here

in the dusky shadows

as the moon wanes

and my mind

turns inside

Wandering down dark alleys

and hidden corners

I pick

at the memories that

are hidden here

Grey light is shed

across these dank corners

with solemn pain

that cannot be seen

in the light of day

My breath catches

as I come across

happy memories

For that is all they are -

a carefully hoarded

snapshot

of days gone by

when one was not a lonely number

but a moment apart.

Cautiously I sift

through something

that was

but is no more

And a bittersweet pang

of pain arches across

nerves long raw

A certain wryness crosses

the mind

- at the deliberateness as

we pick at this scab

only to uncover

a pain

that has not

healed.

52. Storm – 2000.05.18

The steady rain

comes down

and

scintillates

as

it runs down

the window

My eyes are drawn

repeatedly

to the

hardy souls

outside

The coolness of the rain

dampens the dreams

of yesterday

when

today

held so much

promise.

53. Sunshine – 2000.05.18

As I basked in the bright

sunlight

I am drawn back to that day

where we spent

an afternoon outside

breathing in the crisp

spring air.

My memories are cast

in the golden light

of your smile.

Carefully,

I treasure each moment

and wrap it in the softest

of linens

and we relive each moment

in its time.

54. Life Line – 2000.05.18

Twisting

I grasp for the line

that keeps me

amongst the living.

Once more,

I am reminded

of the times where I

once knew who I was

and my place in the world.

But such securities

no longer exist

and I search for

these places again.

My eyes are tired

and unwillingly leave

the words that

would mean most.

-title by KS

55. Sunlight – 2000.05.20

In the shadowed world I thrive

and

dream of sunshined love;

like the hidden secrets of the night

I shy away from the light

It is a constant dance -

I dream yet fear the light

disappearing with the rising sun

I wonder

if it matters

that sunlight is something

that I am seeking

Seeking, spurning

this cycle never ends

one day

I say,

one day,

I too, shall find something

that would hold

the shadows in the sunlight -

if nothing,

but to throw it in sharp relief.

56. 2000.05.20

As my eyes close

my mind is drawn to your image

and I dream

of the happier days

gone by.

Vivid colours are painted

across the barren lands.

006b. The Battle – 2000.05.20

Today,

the anger pours in steady waves

as I stand and watch

the words fly.

The fury builds as I watch

the hidden wounds open

and the subtle pain begin.

Your eyes betray your disgust

as I'm sure mine do

and I struggle to muffle

the bitterness

that must exude.

I wonder

is it valour that keeps me

from the rejoinder?

Or is it a recognition

of the futility

to argue against a wall.

And we turn away

with a betrayed face

as I hide once more.

Withdrawing from the battlefield

is a matter of routine.

And my silence is not surrender

but a fact.

And my resolve is not to

answer your set ways

but to remind myself

of my own.

-title by KS

57. Afloat – 2000.05.20

The river flows steadily

pulsing at a constant rate

and I watch

in morbid fascination

as its red pearls

drip

slowly.

Each word I hear,

each minute I wait,

slowly

I

float

down river.

As it speeds up,

I look for

the shore.

-title by KS

58. “Wish you were here…”

– 2000.05.20

I watch

the sun rise

as the mist lay upon the leaves

and the hazy image

brings back

memories

that we shared.

Of warm glances

and hot kisses

under the palm fronds

where it didn't matter

that all we shared

were a few moments

of time.

Carefully, I memorize

the image

engraving it in my minds eye

where once more

I look back

to those days.

59. Searching – 2000.05.20

Searching

for that other piece

to fit life’s puzzle.

I find

looking for love

in all the wrong places

to be

an adventure

of its own.

And each bend I turn

I see something new

And like an indolent cat

I am in no rush

to find that

piece

preferring to learn

as I go.

To ask as I need

and hope to find.

-title by KS

60. Dazed Memories – 2000.05.21

As I sat outside today,

I basked in the bright sunlight

and thought of you...

the happiness and warmth

that you brought.

I mused at the memories

of summer picnics

and shouts of laughter.

Spending the time

ogling all of those that passed our way.

And like a cat,

I turned over to dream

of the more lazy days of summer.

Only to awaken and realize

that the sun has set

and a chill pervades me

as all I have left

are these few memories.

61. Volleys – 2000.05.21

It was like a soap opera

seeing the unthinkable;

the first time we meet

to be over a bed

with you silently within.

To be asked -

"you are?"

the first shot

an eyebrow raised.

"A friend"

is the return volley.

And so the game begins

switching from

Blind Man's Bluff

to charades.

62. Ice Cream – 2000.05.23

As I watch the cherry stems float

on the white vanilla river,

the chocolate silt is carried along.

And slowly,

the strawberry barges nudge

closer to the glass bowl edge

where they are picked up

in a steel lift

and dropped into a dark emptiness.

Only to hear the hums of pleasure.

63. Reflections – 2000.05.21

The crisp cool weather

chills my skin

and dampens the soul

as I lay watching

the moon rising

and the few stars appear.

As I turn once more,

I catch a glimpse of your eyes

in the reflected window

and wonder at my sight

for it is impossible to have been you.

And I ponder

on the reasons why -

chief amongst them -

our days apart

now outnumber the days together

and certainly,

distance cannot bridge

two souls.

Slowly turning away

from the memories

of a happy time

where we needed no light

to brighten our days.

Once more

my eyes are drawn

to that

shadowed corner.

I blink.

And the shadow has disappeared.

64. the Train – 2000.05.22

Like a train I run...

there are no stops

except for the beginning

and the end

and once there

I cannot stay

and so it goes.

To stop is to ask

for the sun to hide;

to look for hope where none

is to be found;

to want something

that is impossible;

and for such,

to desire

is improbable.

To dream -

a stray hope,

and to seek -

a mere thought.

-title by KS

65. Rhythmic Implosion – 2000.05.22

Each pulsation

adds to the tension

within

and the careful watch

continues.

And as each beat is sounded,

nerves are stretched taut.

And once the fray is run,

the implosion begins

each moment in time

building.

66. The Cutting Word – 2000.05.22

Each word is like a cut

and every time I read them

I relive the moment

that I wrote them.

Each day is like a wound -

open, raw

and unhealing.

And each time I write

I remember.

Every silent moment is hard won

for there is

no peace in constant struggle.

Each life is a vacuum -

unfeeling of the pain

for all my thoughts

have been recorded

and I am

empty

now.

-title by KS

67. Breakout – 2000.05.22

Grounded in reality

I see the thoughts take flight

and their freedom

brings a vague sense

of closure.

For even as I stand here

half-hidden by the shadows

I must remember

that some part

of my soul

is within the light

and strange hopes

of being remembered

may even be

realized

as I see my

lifetime

written out

in

words.

-title by KS

68. The Puzzle - 2000.05.22

The subtle heat

causes the land to shimmer

as I wait

for the time to pass.

And I watch

the crowds pass by

looking for that puzzle piece

to finish the picture

I build.

In fact,

all I may be missing

are the eyes

for they carry a sparkle

unmatched by the stars

and when they twinkle,

I shiver with anticipation

and when they glimmer

with tears

I can only hope that

it is from happiness

and not sorrow.

-title by KS

69. Dreams Aloft - 2000.05.22

The flock of birds

took flight

and I sent my dreams

with them.

And as I watched their southern path,

I gave my hopes free reign

sending them as well...

I hope there comes a day

where my thoughts and body

will be joined

and I would travel

amongst the flocks...

-title by KS

70. Envy - 2000.05.22

The pounding of the waves

echoes the beating of my heart

and I watched

the cries of the gulls

with hidden envy.

The summer breeze soothes me

and I dream

of the butterflies

that gather

amongst the field flowers.

No longer are my thoughts

for spring fancy

but turn to finding

something that lasts

beyond the summer nights.

-title by KS

71. Images - 2000.05.22

Upon a crisp clean page

these words fall

carefully carving

an image from

a shapeless form

with chosen precision.

I realize

that I paint an indelible picture

upon my mind.

And each day that passes,

I store away

the images

that strike me.

-title by KS

72. Full Steam Ahead- 2000.05.22

Like a train

I am running

at full speed

on this simple line

away from that which ails me

into the

unforgiving wilderness

where survival

is by the fittest.

There are no stops

on this one-way line

no conductor

nor director either

and like an

automaton

we proceed.

-title by KS

73. Questions - 2000.05.22

How do you explain togetherness

to someone who's always been apart?

How do you explain heartbreak

to someone who's never been alone?

How do you explain happiness

to someone who has nothing to compare?

How do you say "I love you"

when you've never heard it yourself?

74. The Darkness Within - 2000.05.23

As the night sets in

my mind turns over

to delve into

the darkness within

that surely outweighs

that without.

And I wonder

what spurs me to do this?

To willing let go

of bits of myself

when I can't

even bear to think of them.

Like old scabs

I pick at these thoughts

until the wave of

icy coldness floods down

and engulfs all that I do.

-title by KS

75. Adrift - 2000.05.23

The rain

echoes outside

and already I feel sleepy

and carefully

I drift

and dream

of the sun,

of the laughter

that is so prevalent

outside.

As I float

on this haze

I wonder

if I can wait

for the days

to pass.

Or will my excitement

overwhelm me?

-title by KS

76. Rain - 2000.05.23

As I watch the speckling

of rain drops against the window

I look past the blurry images

and imagine that

tomorrow will bring back

the sunshine

that warms my life.

And I watch

the shimmering lights

reflect off the puddles

and laugh

at the sudden urge

to stomp outside

amongst the

gasoline rainbows.

-title by KS

77. Words of Hate - 2000.05.23

I wonder

what would happen

if the world

suddenly came to a stop

and if the words

of hate

were expunged?

Would there be more love

and less hate?

More peace

and less war?

Would we put more effort

into understanding another

in place

of explaining yourself?

-title by KS

78. Others - 2000.05.23

Like the fly that dreams of the spider,

I wonder at the fascination

that we carry

for the forbidden

for the "others"

that are so ostracized.

Is it some type of "perverse" shame

that one hears of?

- the constant harping

of the differences

that lie between

"us"

and

"them."

Who is "us" and who are "they"?

Why do we fixate

on their "oddities"

instead of looking for

the similarities?

Why are we searching

for reasons

to exclude,

instead of all the ways

that we have to include?

-title by KS

79. Shelter of a Smile - 2000.05.24

I dream

of the life

beyond four walls

as I reach

for the doors

that open to

a time afar

from this.

When I can look back

to the life as it was -

a period of

existence

as opposed to

true living.

I remember when

my struggles overwhelmed

my thoughts

and the only shelter

given

is a simple

smile.

-title by KS

80. Remembering - 2000.05.24

As I watch you smile

I look back

at all the warmth

I've seen

And I choose this moment

to memorize your grin

that carries that slight

twinkle in your eyes -

and the quirk of your lips.

Like a crisp June night

where I counted the

arrival of the evening stars;

each time you smile,

differs.

-title by KS

81. Counting - 2000.05.26

They say that one must die

a thousand deaths

to live a life.

And so I count;

I have died a thousand days

for every hour

that I lived.

And I have learnt

to treasure every memory

as the days pass

for time is fleeting

and loss

unexpected.

And the words run

like drops on a page

dripping red and black

against white

only to blur at the end.

-title by KS

82. Outside - 2000.05.27

The warm sun outside

beckons to me

and I look outside

to watch

the verdant fields

slightly sway

in the gentle wind.

As the pale green leaves

drift

I watch

them float

on the breeze

and imagine

myself

outside.

-title by KS

83. Visiting - 2000.05.27

As I watch

the landmarks

whisk by

I am reminded

that it has

been too long

since I have visited.

As much as I know the land,

it looks different

when I am just

the passenger.

Always, my eyes

look outward -

past crisp leaves

and bright flowers.

To watch the small

flocks of sparrows

and robins cheer.

-title by KS

84. Deafening - 2000.05.27

The din is deafening

and my head aches

with the thunder that

echoes within.

Hearing but not understanding

the feeling reverberates

through my bones

As I wait

for the earthquakes

to roll through.

-title by KS

85. Fudge Brownie Cheesecake... - 2000.05.27

The slow dribble

drips carefully

and we are watching

in near-captive

fascination.

In a pool of white,

the dark chocolate lies

in swirls and shimmering

lights.

As you slice away at

the mound of white,

it slowly melts

along the edge...

The slow descent

of light ice cream

and dark chocolate

draws our attention

away from that

intensely red cherry

that lay nestled

in the cradle

of white cream.

A short lick

and a white moustache

is all that is left.

... to LLJS, who traveled a thousand miles and for whom I write this pome.

86. I Wonder - 2000.05.28

I wonder what would happen

if she realized

that I heard

but never understood,

never acknowledged,

and proceed on my course.

Would there be anger?

Frustration?

Exasperation?

Hate?

I wonder

if I would

feel anything

more than the

emptiness

within.

Where a crisp north wind

blows across

the barren lands.

I wonder

if my indifference

would aggravate you more

if you knew it?

And so I remain

silent

in your diatribe.

And I dream

of the emptiness.

-title by KS

87. Islands - 2000.05.28

In a sea of humanity

we are lonely islands

where the waves

of emotion

wash along the shore.

Through the ages

the archipelagoes

rise from

the ocean floor -

connected by circumstance

and birth

but apart yet the same.

And even though

fisherman may

occasionally stop,

none make their home

on the island,

for both distance

and irrelevance

separate it from the others.

-title by KS

88. Untitled - 2000.05.28

As the clouds shift

my gaze wanders

to those that are around me

and I am

captured in their snippets

of life that I see.

I imagine

that their lives are just

as complex

as a Gordian knot.

89. Untitled - 2000.05.28

The crisp breeze

blows across the lake

and the joggers

pace on the boardwalk.

90. The Number Question - 2000.05.28

Zero

is an oddly even

beginning

and end.

For naught

has been exchanged -

there is only

nothingness

that

I return to.

And such is zero

that its outside

is framed

but its inside

is empty.

Though a number,

its usefulness lies

in its neutrality -

for any movement

on its part

changes its being.

91. "Questions" – 2000.05.28

You asked,

"have you ever?"

and I said, "no."

And we stopped.

The you asked,

"are you looking?"

and I said, "no."

And I wondered

how many more times

would I respond "no"

to something,

that for others,

would have been

a different answer.

92. Untitled - 2000.05.29

These words cut

deeper than the

roughest blade.

Carving slow pieces

of flesh -

a pound

for each thought.

And so they lie

like so much rubbish -

skin shed

like a snake.

Dried, shapeless

in a harsh sun.

They bake and harden

in the light

shriveling

into

nothingness.

93. Deathwatch - 2000.05.29

1 2 3 4

slowly counting

the days that I live

the ways that I died.

For every year of existence

I have lived but half a day

and those are far and long apart.

Stolen moments

in a year of emptiness

I awaken only

to realize

that it has passed.

And the return to

somnolence has begun,

as the cloak descends

unfeelingness

and distance

swirl

sheltering the memories

from sunlight.

- title by TC

94.Wonderful Twos - 2000.05.29

I have captured

a lifetime in two days;

I have lived

in laughter for two hours;

I have gathered my soul

for two moments.

And like two halves,

the rotation has changed

to finding

two moments of peace

in twenty years of strife;

of finding

two words of love

in twenty lives of hate,

of hoping

for two tears of happiness

in twenty ages of sorrow.

And I am disappointed

only by myself;

for seeking the impossible,

for daring to dream

amongst nightmares.

-title by KS

95. Untitled - 2000.05.29

When I look,

I see nothing

worth keeping,

worth mourning,

worth crying for

When I search,

I find nothing

less desired,

less kept,

less wanted.

When I hear,

I find silence,

no thought,

no emotion,

no smile.

When I feel,

I find pain,

I find shadows,

I find sharpness.

And so the reflection shatters

like a thousand

slivers of glass

and my eyes close

once more.

96. Black Box - 2000.05.29

In the shadows I hide,

like a box

in a forgotten home.

Having seen sunlight once,

I retreat to the comfort

of darkness.

Where everything is muted

and welcoming

to our own dark secrets.

And every time I lurk,

I gather the darkness

around me,

absorbing all the words

that slice surer

than a surgeons' blade.

And so the words pour

from the box

onto the page,

so many droplets seen

crimson in their freshness.

-half of the title by KS

97. Untitled - 2000.05.29

I live at night

to die a day

and always I remember

To thank the night

for letting death

pass me unfettered

And each day I struggle

to live once more

in the darkness

that surrounds us.

98. Withdrawing – 2000.05.30

In a shroud of darkness

I lumber

like a mockery to grace

and

under the cover of no stars

I appear

like the remnants of a flood

unwanted

and unneeded.

And like the tides

I recede

into the shallows,

trapped

in a pool of water

And slowly

I withdraw

until

all that is left,

are faint rings of salt.

-title by KS

99. Sunset - 2000.05.30

In a brilliant sky of

deep purples and dark reds

the sun sets

like a red monster

on the evening sky.

And gradually,

the wisps of clouds

move away from

the horizon -

white streaks

on a dark sky.

As the night darkens

I watch the twinkling

of city lights

begin

perched on the top

of a point

where we watched

the busyness of the day

become the nightlife.

-title by KS

100. The Dance - 2000.05.30

Amongst sharp shadows

and soft murmurs

the couples dance

weaving through

the moonlight.

And their careful dips

and curtseys

mirrored after life

give grace to

a trial of wills -

where one leads

and the other one follows

only to smoothly switch

on the next turn.

-title by KS

101. Untitled - 2000.05.31

120 pages

like 50 ways to leave your lover

holds the thoughts

in tidy order.

Each page is like a beacon

carrying some thought to shore.

Setting some adrift,

each time is slightly different -

no two thoughts alike -

no two times the same.

And like a dream,

struggling to capture the thoughts,

I reach for pen

and paper once more.

102. Misfit - 2000.05.31

Like a white-bread girl

in a whole wheat world

I fit,

but only slightly.

And look for something

that masquerades as love.

In desperate haste,

I ponder

how much of this

is worth fighting for?

This elaborate dance

amongst two

is an exchange

of soft glances

and warm touches.

Sharing between two

what cannot be found

by one.

-title by KS

103. Have you ever... 2000.06.01

Have you ever

sat up a whole night

because your thoughts

would not stop?

Have you ever

thought of the darkness

as your friend

because it sheltered you

from eyes?

Have you ever

run away

because it was

more painful to stay?

Have you ever

dreamt of heaven

knowing that you

lived in hell?

Have you ever

sought to deafen

the silence,

so that you

could sleep?

Have you ever

thought to blind

yourself,

so that you would

not have to see?

Have you ever

fallen into a hole

only to be told

that it was your grave?

Have you ever

thought of living

as something beyond

surviving?

Have you ever

sought to dream,

if only to escape

your nightmares?

104. Captured Images - 2000.06.02

I dream in black and white

of things that happen

in living color.

And like moving pictures

I capture them

only

once

with words

that struggle

to describe

their beauty.

And like a fickle heart,

the thoughts escape me

but manage to

flow onto

the page of white.

-title by KS

105. The Patient Lover – 2000.06.02

I catch the silver

moonbeams in my palm,

at awe of the

bright light

And I dream

of bright nights

and sweet songs

if for no other

reason

than, I can.

And like a patient lover,

I pour all my thoughts

to her

knowing that the moon

will safely guard them.

And so,

I spend hours

turning watchful gaze

to her splendour.

-title by KS

106. Light – 2000.06.03

Faster than light travels

do my dreams

and thoughts

imprint themselves

in the arms of another.

And like the depths of heavenly darkness,

do I willingly

let myself

fall into that state

of happiness

knowing that I float amongst

the highest of clouds on

pure love and contentment.

Every effort to clearly describe

the emotions I feel

are thwarted

by

the words

that limit

every nuance.

And like an exploding star

I bask in the light

that cascades

around me.

107. 2000.06.03

The gentle winds of spring

are a soft caress

against bare arms.

The bright sun

is a warm smile

against my eyes.

The warmth that

surrounds me

does not even begin

to match

the sense of

satisfaction

that overwhelms me.

108. 2000.06.04

Many years from now,

I shall walk again

across this sandy beach.

And hear the sighing of the trees

as they rustle in the wind

to brush against my hand.

I shall feel again

the power of the waves

battling against the sand,

to marvel at the quiet strength

of nature in the wild autumn winds.

Someday when I am tired,

I will want to remember

my days with the beach.

Wanting to retrace

steps impressed upon

the shifting sands

of so many years ago.

109. 2000.06.04

Every time

the sun rises

so do my dreams disperse

and like the wisps of clouds

do they appear

every so often.

And my eyes turn

to the bright sunlight

and I am reminded

that the only sight

more beautiful

would be the

happiness

in her eyes.

And the only sight clearer

than a summer sky

would be the smile

on her lips.

110. Love – 2000.06.04

Across the distance

two souls meet

and realize

that neither age,

distance

nor time

could separate

something

that so filled

their hearts.

So in an age

where "love" is just a word

bandied

about,

it's always a pleasure

to see that

love flourishes

still.

-title by KS

111. 2000.06.05

If two hearts loved

would anyone else need to know?

For what is shared

to be between just two

and not a thousand?

If two lives parted

would they shatter

into a thousand pieces -

and be beyond repair?

If two hearts fought

would they love enough

to say

"I'm sorry"

and hear in return

"you're forgiven."?

If two hearts

felt

the same

would they still

remain separate?

112. Candles Light – 2000.06.07

In the wee hours of the morning

I dream

of turning over

to see your bright eyes

In the earliest part of the day

I wonder

about these lonely nights

Where we treasure

every moment together

and hunger from

every moment apart

And like a candles light

I reach out in the darkness

for your shadow.

-title by KS

113. At Sea – 2000.06.08

A sudden coldness grasps me

and the pain twists inside

so that breathing is

now an option

as opposed

to being

a necessity.

And like a cool stiletto

the words carve a neat line

through the fog.

And carefully

I pour the words,

the thoughts,

onto a white page.

And watch them sail

like so much flotsam

into the sea

- where it struggles

to stay afloat

only

to sink

once more.

-title by KS

114. The Difference - 2000.06.08

The difference between living

and just existing

is feeling.

To live

you must feel

everything,

every nuance,

every pain,

and like a boat,

go with the waves

or sink.

To exist,

you do not feel

and just work,

eat,

sleep,

with nothing that

excites you,

disturbs you,

or even bothers you.

- This pome is for KS - who reminded me that the stanza: "Have you ever thought of living as something beyond surviving." was good.

- Title by KS *g*

115. Slide Rule - 2000.06.09

On a sliding scale

where do love and like

separate?

On the road to life,

when do you know

you've reached love?

How do we know

that we're not

settling for "like"

when we want "love"?

- title by KS

116. If You Knew - 2000.06.09

If you knew what lay beneath,

would you still ask?

If you knew how much it hurt,

would you still want?

If you know how dark it was,

would you still read?

-title by KS

117. Hidden Treasures - 2000.06.10

The white sun

on burnished flesh

brings out the

brightness of your smile.

And I listen for the laughter

that follows,

as the slow drip

of the ice cream

against your fingers

makes for a mess

that is a joy to clean,

as I watch

the pink tip

of your tongue

carefully lick

every crevice

where the ice cream hides.

And reluctantly,

my eyes draw upward

to see the slight grin

on your lips.

- Title suggested by TC

118. On summer days, thoughts turn to... - 2000.06.10

On a hot summers day,

the ice cream looks

especially inviting

against the pale surface

of your skin

And my eyes follow

the pattern

of the cool cream,

spackled against your lips,

knowing that slow nibbles

become hot kisses

as it melts.

My anxiousness to

clean the surface

leaves it glistening

as I listen to your

short breaths

heavy against my ears.

With a deliberate hand,

I raise another spoonful -

missing your mouth

as the white drops fall,

landing on your throat.

With mumbled apologies,

I watch the writhing

as the mixture

of cold dessert

and hot skin

creates a brief sizzle

And at that moment,

I want nothing more

than to be

the white ice cream

that has resettled itself

on your heated body.

Turning the cold spoon

against sensitive flesh,

there is a subtle tightening

as contact is made.

All across the expanse

of bare skin,

is the ice cream

and honey trailed -

your body serving as

the surface to partake of.

The sweetly sticky sensation

captivates the senses

as light nips

cause a slow dance

between flesh

and mouth -

your muffled demands

mixing with hums of pleasure.

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