From The Inner Space

I know what you’re doing, my friend:
You write poetry, lines and lines
That you tie in hoops and throw
Way out into the cold cyberspace,
With a hope that it catches on
He, who can never ever be replaced -
You write lines that hopefully catch
The one who never tires to be chased.
And maybe they will do better in pleading
Than you ever did in front of him bleeding.
Maybe. Just maybe.

But the odds are stacked against the broken heart,
And no success your verses achieve will hide the scars -
What else do you think your verses are?
 

My skin is like paper
Wet from all the tears
Wrinkled, left to dry
On the radiator for
Lengthy eighty years
Memories are fading
One by one into a mist
But the rage is rising
My soft hands now
Clenched into a fist
You scratched away
Into me your name
So that even if I
Forget all that’s been
The scars will bear 
Witness to my pain
They will grieve
My beauty thrown away
Waiting for you, but 
Dear you never came
Now years withered me
To a creaking bed
I’m waiting for my full stop,
But it’s you who was my end. 

Photographic memory or not,
I know every grain under my feet.
The sky has changed for I
Have been sitting here for hours,
Ignoring that stranger I call sky -
Couldn’t tell you if it’s cloudy,
Or if the sun is blazing high.

Your absence has made all black and white,
I think it’s raining, I don’t notice myself cry -
All I know is something is hitting the floor,
I’m still to learn that this something is I -
I swear the drops trace your footsteps as you walked,
Without a reason you tore your way to the door,
You don’t want to touch, you say you don’t want to talk.

And it’s been days since I have looked up at the sky,
I won’t see God there and He won’t tell me why -
My eyes are locked on the dust beneath my feet,
Tribute to the empire that our love used to be:
I won’t be looking up at the life that’s happening above,
I’m ashamed to be so broken, I’m beyond all function -
Condemn me, Lord, but my dear lover, forgive me all 
As I let my eyes, my heart, my soul plunge to the floor. 

You say it’s all been building up to me, you’re wrong -
God raised the mountains from a speck of dust,
To only serve one purpose, to be eternal metaphor
For all that you are: beyond great, far beyond strong.
Every snowflake that ever befell the undeserving ground,
Mounted into the passion of the Earth – an avalanche
Oh, how it cowered! In the face of your sweeping force -
Pulling the universe from under my frail feet, I lay yours -
Would have never resisted, there was never a chance.
Every gust of cold wind, like a howling wolf just outdoors,
Fused into a tornado, caught me in your joyous dance:
Carrying me through time, the purple heavens where I saw
Aphrodite, one by one, little stars in the skies draw,
Only to say: ‘The sparkle in his eyes mocks each one I paint,
But I shall never quit trying’ and so the yellow stars keep filling
Up the sky as I cuddle by your side in bed.

Every prayer I’ve whispered to heaven, at best, half-believing –
Has been banished yonder, for words, whilst your lips leaving
elevated me to a state where prayers are no longer needed.
For the first time, when on canvas angels spread their wings,
By inspired painter, it was in your image he fashioned them so,
With black ringlets in their hair, bright and armed in gold bows
That shot dead threats this world conjures, once and for all,
White wings swift enough to catch my fall, I dare all Gods
To bring about the bleakest winter, between them I’ll be warm;
Every brush stroke was building up to the masterpiece – you
Throughout the ages there shall be nothing better, nothing new.
As every scarlet drop my heart ever bled turned to lover’s mead
It cast rainbow light on the dungeons, where my desires I’d keep -
Mounting up with every kiss on the neck, on the lips, the cheek.
So it is all, absolutely all of it: Gods, the world and skies so blue
Have all throughout time been building up to the sole thing – you.
And if something I’ve missed that was building up to me, ‘tis this:
It’s built up to me telling the world: ‘I’m with him. And it is bliss.’

Sweet notes dancing in the silence
Swirl and surround my weeping soul:
Soothe it, kiss it better and stay close.
Please, my dear sweet music,
Fill in all the gaps, the cracks,
The gaping crimson wounds
Blasted open by loving a shadow,
A fresh breath of air, for
My one and only is never here.

How my pen is so desperately eager to escape my hand,
It does not want to write what cannot be written,
By the hand of a poet so grief stricken,
It would just rather write ‘You Love Him’
And have these words never fade.
Mock me arrogantly from the page.

Please stop, close the door, nobody come in
I’ll tell them all that I’m fine, just tired…
Then alone drop to bed, have sleep come
And feel myself drifting away from reality
Hoping that this isn’t falling asleep,
This is dying.

Revitalising eyes of wise a tree,
My tears seep in  at it’s roots
Top of a branch – fruit looms,
Drawing in the light of morn
And my deep whimpering sighs
Which angels take
Upon themselves to bind -
Into beauty none can touch,
Through you.
Your branches did not shudder
Though to you I brought a flame -
You turned into a tree that blazed
In my colours, just for me -
Your burnt sad blue and true
Comfort seeped out of you,
And I, a stone, grew roots
To soak up your gift to me.
Because of you I became a tree,
Strong passion tree in the Garden of Eden.

My fingertips on your skin
Trace shapes not seen before
Little do you know that
They don’t mean to draw
But every single inch of you
They so adore

Your permeable eyes, they let through
My whimpering sighs and the light of morn,
Within them angels tie them up
Into a chorus of reassuring song.

Our hearts speak at sunrise, and we’re asleep
As they lay bare the bleeding secrets we keep -
The breeze finds unheard chords on your guitar,
Keeping us at peace, demolishing our guard.

Come through misty dream, let the birds wake
Let the world pray for our sake,
And let our time be forever lodged in deep winter,
Frozen - to gift an eternity to gaze at your face.

mobbleberry:

He is nothing like the sea,
he didn’t surge into my life
or appear on a full moon -
lassoing me with the tide.

He is nothing I have ever known,
he cannot be tied to a season
or attached to trees, and floating
leaves.
He is not rooted,
nor part of my pasts skeleton bark.

He is nothing I ever dreamed of,
not particularly tall or dark.
I chased daydreams of
chocolate iris’s.

He is not what I expected, 
Not for one fleetingly fanciful moment. 

He is constant:
A constant fascination.  

Please don’t call me, my ears busy with sweet sound
Don’t poke holes in my clouds, don’t you try to bring me down
Don’t call me back into crafted simulation I can’t pick up,
I’m somewhere real Don’t call me if you see me across the street,
I’ll be indulged in the company of my sweet
Walk on by, you have nothing to say to me.
Let the bricks pile up and the cement dry.
Don’t call me now, you’ve made me cry -
Don’t call me now I’m incapable of sad,
There’s no space for you in my head
And all the purgatory that was has burnt,
Don’t call me now, I’ve been scooped up
Into heaven and you can’t follow me there.
Don’t call my name, don’t call me friend…
Don’t call the shots for you’ve called the end.
I’ve been found where you dropped me
I’m the lucky, blessed one this time -
Don’t call me, don’t speak - Who do you think you are?

Seems I’ve let too many days fly away

Looking through my pink shades

At the horrid things that came my way

Then you came and threw pebbles at my face

Broke the glass and set me free

Now we haunt what was haunting us

By drawing smiley faces from the palette

Of the rainbow, washing paintbrushes in the rain

I’ve heard songs about this before

But this is my perfect day

You lost joy, security and your honest smile,
Your heavy head anchored you to sorrow
Throwing a thick smother upon your life:
Spinning in circles, it dawns on you - you’re alone.
Your hands trembling in fear, dare not rise,
To seek counsel, delivered in lover’s flesh and tone -
Staring at the barred door before your eyes,
You grasp the shrinking borders of your soul.

Your life is brilliant story, so unique -
Written in a language very few can speak.
Your being narrowed to pitch black dwelling,
From where I hear, to me, a familiar weep.
Your life once loud, is but a drum filled with led
Lost in the murmur of a world falling deaf -
Yet ringing so loud in my inherently acute head,
I’ll follow you down, down towards whatever end.

Your life is drenched in flesh-seeping cold,
The seeping cold that saw all fire of desire go -
It shall be rendered by my shedding of clothes,
To be set alight and warm both of our bones:
Your life may surface again above the stones - 
You naively placed upon your eager breast,
Many nightmares haunt those left alone
But I am here and nought shall be left suppressed. 


 

You couldn’t have missed,
The glorious colors striking
The sight in awesome sunshine -
I would unfold them, and cast
A mosaic shadow upon your skin.
I was a butterfly in your arms,
With millions of them within.
Then something unexpected happened,
You frowned and punched, angry
Gaping holes of blood in my wings -
Bound me in barbed strings -
But left me breathing, you’re my love
Not a heartless killer -
The world witnessed then
Such a show of mercy
Watching a man force a butterfly,
Back into a caterpillar.