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( Instead of sewing three different topics; I thought I'd weave one. Poetry is something I've always loved. It's something like a hobby, yet, it's something more. So, here are three poems I would like to share. Bear in mind; the topic's main title. whee )
The Maddening
I’ve sought for so long, a gravid love resting inside the body of another
But to each heart I’ve reached toward, I am met with a thousand adverse flames;
Laughing, and licking away my flesh in searing strokes
I’ve found attraction in deviance, something out of the normal that calls to me
And I feel the enmity of society pressing like a giant’s fist to my backside;
Trembling, and growling – the fangs at my neck seething,
I condemn this pavid notion – I won’t kneel to the song of putrid ghosts
I know the mathematical complexities; for they twirl in droves within my mind
All the passion, the rage; the love that boils inside – churning to unequal sums;
And I wait to see the borders of me, I wait to embrace my limit, and
I can only imagine the vivid force that will bring about that equation –
Paroxysmic and fervent –
To a point where not even the product of a million suns could compare
I’ve sought the hands of doom, through self loathing and spite
I’ve found the questions lingering in the dark, and
I know one day I’d like to wrap that cold death around my failing body
I’ve sought a heart of stone, to keep the wolves at bay, but
I’ve found that I cannot keep at bay what is coiled within, and
I know that face in the mirror, staring back; that grinning maw - my own
I’ve sought for a way to rend this flesh from my bones, and
I’ve found, tripping over the wire; my own defense mechanism -
I know, I understand; this flaw is worthwhile, so I keep it in reach
I’ve sought to expand along the edge of the world as the horizon, but
I’ve found that the present chains of gravity hold me much tighter than I’d imagined, and
I know I’ll only be staring from the precipice of defeat, endlessly
I’ve sought for knowledge, but
I’ve found that the pages of the books I’ve opened blank, yet -
I know these pages were meant for words - words spoken through ink from a pen drifting at the apex of my fingertips, tracing over intricate questions and designs rusted with inconceivable patterns – through the tattered hole in a burnt autumn leaf; the world unraveled at its seems and dissipating into a void that only through a raven’s eye, blessed wings of black outstretched in all directions, could see – from within the torrent of a storm, reigning down with every possible emotion; beyond the crush of gravity, smothering into the warmed summer soil countless faces unknown to me…
I’ve sought the impact; that which could only be brought through the kinetic energy of my moving fist, and
I’ve found the wall that slows my abrasive drive – the motor sputtering, choking on impure vowels –
I know we’re matched for endurance
I know we’re matched for brawn
I know we’re matched for will,
And I know we’re matched for our capacity to sit and stare at the world,
Slowly crawling from dusk to dawn
I’ve sought for words
I’ve sought for the bard’s tongue
I’ve found my mind as a vast, white plain
I’ve found naught but empty space
I know time passes slowly
I know time halts when the hour glass lets slip the last grain of sand –
I know you know that I know what we know
I know it all begins and ends at once
And I know we’ll continue along our path,
Same as always –
For a circle; fated; holds no ends.
--
Not Unlike The Stones
I am from the Earth;
Where hands have brushed the dust aside,
And dirt tinged fingertips hastily lay claim to the agate,
And the obsidian.
I am from beneath the canopy of trees;
Staring up through the arms of branches swaying in a quiet breeze,
For I’ve always felt my home was naught,
And that the untouched lands of Gaia whispered in my head for no simple reason.
I am from the ocean;
For I am not unlike the waves,
Spilling – crashing, onto the shoreline in confusion,
My attempts to find a way for my life to flow ebbing and churning.
I am from the rough hands of my father;
I am from the smooth hands of my mother;
From the crafting hands of my grandfather;
From the sewing hands of my grandmother –
I am comprised of flesh, blood and bone like any other,
But I am not akin to that which made me –
I am comprised of myself, my thoughts and my beliefs,
And I stand away from the crowd;
Staring down from a lonely precipice above it all.
I am from the ageless oak,
Standing solely to defy the push of winds and decay of time –
I am from the enduring stone,
Resting in the bosom of the Earth in quiet contemplation –
I am from the madly glittering stars,
Glaring down in subtle lunacy –
I am from somewhere I cannot define.
I am from a place where dreams collide with reality,
Where the only boundaries one has are limited to his own imagination,
And where the notion of time is something long forgotten.
I am from the Earth,
And I am from nothing at all.
--
The Quiet Shoreline
The winds spilled heavy across the sand
dragging particles along with ease
The tide drifted further onto the shore
and receeded just as quickly
I sat on a precipice above the minor torrents
wedged myself somewhere between the faceless stones
the wall of rocks that shot out into the cold waters
on that jedi I lost myself in the taste of the salty air
I remember the way the winds howled quietly
weaving through the crevices of the smooth stones
I recall the repetative noise of the waves crashing
pushing further against the sands
and then pulling swiftly back
stopping here or there to swirl in small pools
Laying back and letting my eyes roll upward
tracing along the contours and lines
the collaboration of small white clouds floating above
ambling along the azure blue of the sky
as if time meant nothing to them
The rest of the world darkened after a length of time passed
the sun falling behind a jagged range of mountains
somewhere I couldn't see in the distance at my back
Did the horizon whisper its goodbyes for the day?
Creeping shadows settled in protracted motions
and dusk came and went without much acknowledgment
I think nightfall came with an unsettling feeling of isolation
like the gentle tapping of fingertips across my soul
I could almost feel the darkness close in around me
the temperature dropping dramatically, twitching nerves
I braced for an impact I never felt as my eyes adjusted
And a few feet below me the waters rose to lick higher
the rock basin shuddering inaudibley as the sea constricted -
the tide was coming in
I don't know what I had been staring at
and I don't remember the thoughts that passed
in that awkward sense of surrounding silence
I closed my eyes and drifted along
the shallow pull and release of the waves and the winds
churning together to create a feeling of movement
It brought a small smile to my cold lips
quivering against the descending degree of warmth
I knew the stars over head glittered madly;
through the dark haze of the clouds they sung brightly
I had almost forgotten
the tension in my right hand and the weight it held
I had almost let myself drift along peacefully
I could stay here like this forever
but to remain in such a place for eternity had its price
The waves hushed their lullabies to the cooling sands
and the wind echoed with vibrant melodies
I parted my lips with a drawled inhale
the tangy aroma of the sea almost masking the hard taste of steel
So quiet and so pure
all the emotions I felt at that moment flooding through me
and drifting away from me as the winds ghostly hands stole silent tears
from the corners of my eyes I could see the dark waters below
pressing over the rocks and the sand in such a delicate way
I wanted to climb down and feel the dense touch through the bitter cold
Morning was hours away and I knew I could've stayed longer
this place tugged at something deep inside me
I wanted to pull this blossoming enigma out of my chest
if only just to see the beauty it held
My tongue washed over the smooth expanse of metal
and I whispered silent musings to the stars for one final time
I couldn't help but wonder if the rocks that I warmed slightly
would remember me in time
would the waters and wind also recall the hours passed?
How long would I live as a memory in this place?
I didn't have the answer but I knew I had a long road ahead
in which I would grasp the sweet harmonies of life I found here in
I found myself smiling again
A few fragments of clear liquid leapt from the shoreline
to sparkle across my cheeks as I laid back
pressing further into the smooth stones as if to forget I was there
the weight in my hand beginning to take toll on the muscle of my arm
and one small twitch of a numb finger made it all fade away
For a blistering moment the serenity of the world shattered
like a child tracing his fingers along the surface of a pond
the ripples of sound exploding outward only to slow
and reform back into the silence it had been
The faceless stones at my back were finally washed over
a slew of red leaping from the back of my skull
splattering across the dull grays and tan clay colors
I would wonder if the picture at the end would fit at all
or would the quiet beauty be marred until it was washed clean?
The winds spilled heavy across the sand
dragging the particles along with ease
the tide drifting as far as it dared to upon the shore
receeding when it felt the need
I laid myself to rest upon that precipice above it all
wedged myself between the angry stones
that wall of rock reaching out into the cold waters
on that jedi I lost myself...
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