Hey Stranger

I think I know why I like traveling long distances now

and thought you’d like to know.

I feel like I’m on my own

escaping all the problems I have.

The left window seat on this bus

With the view of the sun slowly sinking –

I’ve always loved sunsets in the summer –

fills my heart and mind with hope.

These are the times that I catch myself in thought,

guided by the music coming from my phone

and slipping into my ears through my headphones.

Escaping one problem now leaves me with another concern.

I’m dead to her now.

It has to be something other than the language barrier.

For every word that gets misconstrued,

my heart twists into a knot and

she suddenly becomes the victim.

She takes me to my favorite place.

And there,

alone

I think of ways my life could be better

and what I could do to change things.

For me to say I need time for myself

is the biggest slap in the face anyone could ever give

her. That I seem to be her enemy is all she will ever know.

But the one thing I need is an extra ear and I can’t seem to find one.

The umbilical cord that once held us together was never truly

One,

but she is guilty of getting rid of any trace that might’ve been left behind.

No one to understand, so no one to listen.

So I say bye to you Mom, and hi to you stranger.

Journey to Nowhere

The lights

from the distance

only seen in the dark

illuminated

it seems

by memories of the mind that

wanders

Helplessly.

So I wonder

while I sit there

why I feel so at peace

with my feet in tact

but each footstep leading to another.

Yet, I stand still.

I look to the West

where the day lays to rest.

Oh how I find

solace in the memories

that have carried me

to the place

I am now

When they decide to look,

I’ll already be looking

straight ahead

to the lights all

scattered.

That little red

light is the place

where the darkness

only I know

remains hidden.

A secret.

That little blue,

a little to the right,

light is the place

that changed my life.

It sent me on a ride

West, to escape heartache,

and a little

South, to escape the blood in me.

Although the route at first

I needed to stop

unsure

if I took the wrong road.

That little green,

the one they call

GO,

light is the place

I next called home.

I grew a new mind

and let others possess the old one.

I was reborn the red salamander

like the myth

out of fire.

Rebellion took hold of

my mind,

my heart,

curled around it and protected it

from harm.

I remember them.

My feet still intact.

My mind now weary

of thinking, and still

no answer to

that little yellow light.

And all I am left with,

the only thing I know,

the lights are my trigger

and the lights are my pull.

The Thought of Poetry

All you need:

One

Simple

Thought

Pour it from your mind,

Feed it to the pen –

Ready to write?

No, not yet.

Filling its files with imagery and

squeezing the metaphors out of life -

Imagine that.

Personifying the perfect and

imperfect into a persona.

Mixing memories of red and

dreams of blue

to construe

the fact that

I knew you

is now

Black ink

Carrying the bittersweet baggage

called Blues.

Glide it through the point

but the point is poetry -

to bleed from the mind and

be stained with words.

All you need - the thought of poetry.

No Other Way

February 15, 2010

I told myself I wouldn't write anymore.
I thought that if I stopped writing I'd be able to put everything behind me.
Guess I've become an expert at subconsciously lying.
I just can't seem to figure out where the hell I went wrong.

There used to be a time when things seemed to be getting better,
seemed a little brighter.
That was a couple months ago when I made another "best attempt" at forgetting It.
And..it seemed to work.
Things looked especially better when I thought life had given me another lemon since
I messed up the first batch.
Life gave me a lime and tricked me instead.

The realization had been more clearer than before.

Amidst the snow about a week ago,
I don't know how it happened to me, but the memory was brought alive again, and with every breeze brushing against my face...
I felt that night permeate through my very being, swallowing me with familiarity;
But then..and now, I wish It never had.
I felt engulfed by fear and possessed by anger - my enemies who had been let out of Pandora's Box yet again and the ones I've tried so hard to suppress for several years.

Here it was, this new chance, giving me everything it had to offer! I couldn't help but feel like an insult wrapped around its insufficient embrace.
I was pathetic. I couldn't even tell it the truth.
Instead, I avoided its unknowing gaze.
As soon as those eyes miraculously unglued themselves from me, I boarded the train.
The sudden encounter with my old acquaintance disconcerted me.
I couldn't believe how well I retraced the steps back to It.

Ever since then, I've been allowing my mind to formulate an illusion with the foundation from my deepest desire for It.
So as much as I wanted to write, as much as I wanted to resist defeat..
I would not, could not, bring my pen to trace the words that would suggest my vulnerability.
The words that would suggest that I still knew the sound of a stammer or two.
That I still wish for a closeness to It that used to raise my temperature to a degree I never knew before and I can't seem to find another that's able to do the same.

I remember those feelings.
The ones that overcame me with an instant worry followed by an involuntary tear that fell onto the same concrete ground It did.
At that moment, I fell. I fell out of the state of denial.
I didn't want to believe that a feeling like this could take hold so soon.

February 23, 2010

I can't sleep tonight.
This is one of those nights when I lay in bed trying to sort it all out.
That is until I think about it for so long that I end up falling asleep in mid thought.
And each night had been the same - without any progress.
I'm up at 4:45 in the morning jotting down the secret
I hoped I'd say, but figured it was best not to or was too much of a coward to say.
And all because my senses have betrayed me.

My sense of sight has been constantly forming the figure I wish to see.
My sense of hearing vies to listen to the name I know to be uttered by only one person.
My sense of touch wants a reminder of how well I used to feel by your side.
My sense of taste desires to savor the lips I know can melt mine.

But now all I can think about is the opportunity to at least see him again.
Sometimes I wish I could be as strong as everybody says I am, but the truth
is ------