Poetry
This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.
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When I imagine myself with you I imagine
Going on long drives to nowhere
Jumping the gap on the ferry
And then spending the night waiting for the ferry home, sleeping and talking in the car
I imagine this serenity, where with each other we are so in each other our own that we just
Enjoy each other and the life we create
I imagine you looking over to me
As the late talk slips into slowly falling asleep
I imagine soft smiles at each other
Whispered goodnights
When I imagine myself with you
I’m always alone and it always continues
No comments on -
If I could word how I feel
If I could name the feelings that flow
You aren’t here
You’re gone
How I miss you
The feeling
Like rage like pain like sorrow like loneliness like
A thousand thousand feelings they drip
They puddle
They flow
There is no word for the way to feel knowing someone dear is gone
Less the attached feeling like
And I never even got to say hello
And I never got to say
Not goodbye
Don’t go
Don’t go
DON’T FUCKING GO
Please don’t go
What do you call it?
When you never existed
And they’ll never exist again.
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It’s stuck
I can’t get it working
The mouth
Of the river is waning
In the silence
I know what it means it means I’ve given up
I’ve given up
And every day until the day I die I’ll spill my heart
And as the ink dries on the parchment a new another silent cry for
Anything anything
Waiting in the wings for an answer besides the silence the river doesn’t flow
It trickles endlessly little pieces little pieces
Somewhere beyond where we are now is there an answer I’m waiting for?
And I have given up
The river flows no more
Could the rains bring it back to life to spill into the ocean the story of the land?
Can the sky meet it willingly?
Is this world a true world?
Or does the river dry,
Pulling the sky and the ocean into it
Requiring their presence
If the river is dried
Where do the words go?
Where do they go…
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Melodious meaningless words spoken softly to no one
On the page written and claimed as a genius
Yet to no avail
Yet to no avail
The end of the story evermore the end of the words spoken sweetly
Nothing left over when those words are now silent and empty
Each must have stepped up to sign the treaty
And I will die alone
And they will speak the words until they are meaningless as they were written
Have I not eyes?
Hundreds of years of questions
Never answered
By the writing on the page
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I still think of you uselessly
I still think of you pointlessly I think of you and think
How pointless
I think of thinking of you
This has nothing to do with you
What are you doing here?
I slip and trip and fall down this decline into nothingness
Slowly making my own way down
Down down
I think of you
And it starts
It doesn’t come quiet
It comes screaming in
Him
Why?
I’m wasting so much time
He doesn’t care
There’s no point to this
He won’t be there
He’s taken
He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t
There’s something wrong with me to think this way
How could I think this way
Down, do you see me falling down?
Tripping down?
Slipping slowly
I think of you
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I keep having this dream
This repetitive dream
He comes to me
Holds my face
Pets my hair
Stares me in the eye with his own bright and clear
He comes and says
You’re beautiful
You’re beautiful
Don’t forget you’re beautiful
It whispers in through the day
A flash of his face the feel of his hand on my cheek
And since I’ve seen this dream those around me keep following the theme
That I’m beautiful
Bewildered and confused I wake thinking he’s crazy
Who ever he is
He can make the people say to me
You’re beautiful
The strange power
Of the man of my dreams
Elucidating Questions 