Mar 15, 2012

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,
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
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
it seems
by memories of the mind that

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

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
if I took the wrong road.

That little green,
the one they call
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:

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. 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 ------