Posts tagged poetry
Posts tagged poetry
An ocean in a raindrop,
A universe in a grain of sand,
Beautiful treasures held in every hand.
A lifetime in a moment,
A philosophy in a word,
Bountiful secrets contained in silence heard.
A bloodline in a seed,
An education in a book,
Everything lost in an opportunity we never took.
An ideology in an image,
A brand in a name,
Civilizations lost in an imperialist game.
An identity in a number,
A legend in a sentence,
The grandest gifts cost less than ten cents.
A breakthrough in a thought,
A symphony in a sound,
Millions of voices oppressed by a golden crown.
A worth in a figure,
A theory in a maxim,
Societies to ash in the fission of two atoms.
An empire in a king,
A revolution in a peasant,
Enlightenment attained in the struggle of one second.
With the opaque clarity of hindsight
Shining like a blinding spotlight
On everything I never did right,
Forcing my head into frenzied flight
I dissect the broken pieces,
Analyze them with hopes of discerning
Calls for changes I never heeded.
How naive were we to make promises
That we knew were impossible to keep?
The truth is that all good things must end;
Time unfolds according to no one’s plans.
Our duel solipsism envisioned two people in our world,
But it turned out to be a complicated web waiting to unfold.
On a lonesome winter evening
Lost in youthful dreaming
I stare at an old, dusty photograph
That embodies love’s inscribed epitaph:
The grey surrounding our feet
Matched the shade of my sleeves,
The tranquil blue in your eyes
Reflected unadulterated skies –
My arm carefully placed around your waist;
The shimmering smile that colored your face.
She resembled you in the wedding gown, glowing,
As pure white shielded your shoulders, flowing,
Beneath the revered Irish saints –
Miracles and prophecies depicted in vivid stains.
Days and moments that we clasped so dear,
Embedded in memories; mirages in mirrors.
It’s hard to remain
When I can’t see the light that once
From the room in which you were
It’s hard to have that much needed
When I don’t have your ears to sort through
Remember when I left you a rose and
you sketched it?
Sometimes I close my eyes and pretend that
you’ve kept it.
Remember when we were four people in one apartment,
sipping Belgian beers and
slipping under golden veneers?
Remember when we read more
maps that books
and train tracks took us to destinations
where our hearts
swayed and shook?
Remember when you drove over 500 miles
and I spun you around while
sporting the biggest smile?
Remember when you spent that string
of nights awake,
Strung out on caffeine and chemistry while we
begged you to
take a break?
Remember when you welcomed us into
Then we wandered around Cleveland to do
what we do best –
Where have you gone to, Robert Frost?
Without your icy words I’m lost.
When I explore lovely woods sans you –
Puzzled, I muddle my way through.
Of running rivers and open fields;
Of broken branches and flowers peeled.
A tempted bride, a darting deer;
A thawing heart, visions crisp and clear.
Of lonely moons and speckled skies;
Of autumn leaves and the darkest prize.
Downtrodden trails with weary feet;
A secret place where we can meet.
Preying birds with sturdy wings;
Glaring eyes with a pen that sings.
If you return to reveal the remaining truths
From a chest reborn that softly soothes,
A promise to you that I swear to keep
Will be achieved miles before I sleep.
My father wants to be left alone.
My brother wants what he does not own.
My sister wants to flee from her home.
What I want is never completely known.
When I’m gone and nearly forgotten
Who will be there to intervene and stop them
From descending into conflict all too often?
When my sorrowful song is foregone then
Who will absorb the pain from their sobbing?
My mother refuses to put it to rest.
My sister fails to see the ways that she’s blessed.
I’ve got this sinking feeling in my chest.
Can’t take sides, caught in the crossfire—
Those who don’t survive are the ones I admire.
If she’s honest then he’s a downright liar.
Enmeshed in the discovery of me:
Lost in the woods all I see are the trees,
All I have is this weathered hope for peace.
To laud you with praise,
raising my cup, I ask you to join
rejoicing phrases –
worthy of worlds I treasure,
retreating from ghosts
Amazing talent pours,
propounding from your pores,
supporting my senses,
ignoring past tenses.
freedom of expression
caressing my heartstrings
acoustic chords plucked
elucidate your struggle;
ruggedly you dance,
abundant piercing glances
blanket your mistress,
distinguishing your repertoire.
found in distant stars –
motivating feelings never
verified in times before.
Forlorn actions evade
promenades in your dreams,
prognosticating contentment indeed.
Deeming dreams seamstresses
trembling with unseen,
Mistakes matter less when
Therein lies the charm of you;
youth taken to learn,
garnering insights evermore true.
the left was fighting the right,
and the right was fighting the light,
and the light was blinding the night,
and the night woke up in tears.
when my fingers went to wipe them
they became a poem, but to write them
they would have to speak tears in another language—
that would take years.
I miss sleeping in the arms of my lover, sprawled out beneath the covers in dorm rooms and sofas in small towns.
I miss the sound of clenched teeth in the night and rubbing her forehead softly, assuring her that nightmares are not always foresight.
I miss waking up only to lay there for hours, running my fingertips
along the nape of her neck and the swell of her hips.
I miss spending whole days cooped up in our own bubble with no reason to leave; residing inside a dream.
I miss discussing our hopes and fears; how they all subsided into serenity as she inspired me to persevere.
I miss gazing into her eyes and seeing the reflection of the man I want to be; certain that wrapped in her arms is the closest I’ll ever get to liberty.
I miss her scathing glances and the particular gleam which initiated my romantic advances.
I miss transcendent touches when her body moved with mine, cresting and crashing like waves spread out across a shoreline.
I miss moments following heart-shattering calls, becoming the pillar of strength to support her during depressive falls.
I miss how her mood would change; occasionally turning to rage, showing that passion doesn’t depart with age.
I miss bright letters expressing deep love and affection, filled with the promise of future and a healthy dedication.
I miss how simply and naturally the pieces fell into place, as if something greater blessed me with her grace.
I miss futile fights, repeating the same arguments daily then reconciling with a round of caressing reflecting our collective frailty.
I miss the ease with which the words would come, demonstrating unequivocally she was the one I loved.
The district has left me alone
In a U Street bar at three AM
Too restless to head home.
When a sweet girl with warm whiskey breath,
And a charm that night can’t hold
Slurs, “good evening, why a face so miserable?
Are you tempted? Are you taken? Are you sold?
Leave the tip atop the table, boy, let’s go.”