Pomes
P. Osito
Collected Poems and Prose 1998 - 2002
Smashwords Edition
Supposed Crimes, LLC Matthews, North Carolina
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2017 P. Osito
Published in the United States.
ISBN: 978-1-944591-39-7
www.supposedcrimes.com
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Author’s Note: Even though the distance of time cannot be understated, more of these were written with the vague notion of “better out than in” in whatever respect you may wish to place upon it.
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
Loneliness is your friend. Do not lose sight of your isolation.
No feelings. No pain. Feel nothing. Want nothing.
The pain assaults you, embracing like an old friend. The only friend ever known.
Your goal is to survive. Survive from minute to minute. From second to second. From day to day.
Remember nothing. Feel nothing. Say nothing.
Silence is a gift. Treasure it.
The ice that surrounds you is a shelter. Face away from the world.
Live in the now. There is no future.
Reveal nothing. Revel in nothing.
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.