Poetry2ponder's Blog

I’ll say what I mean,

I don’t mean to be mean

or hard of heart,

Just trying to use

My pain for art.

I used to love you

and now I don’t know.

So, hoping to see something true,

I let my rhymes flow

Maybe for something new, maybe for you.

Introspection and reflection,

I bury my feelings so deep,

They’re beyond detection.

Got to be rational and logical,

Everything emotional

is everything null.

I really don’t think that way,

but sometimes I value logic over feeling,

And then I’m not okay.

I wish my reasoning was clear.

I’d have nothing to fear.

But it’s not.

So I’m caught

Up in this battle between present and past.

How long will this last?

I don’t know

Just hoping to grow

Day to day,

I’ll be okay

Look to the future and everything’s bright

Look to the past and everything’s night

It’s all dark and gone.

Some things went wrong.

So why do I look back?

Cause all I see is a crack

of light in that darkness

a little bit of energy I tried to harness.

But I couldn’t hold on,

Because you’re with someone else,

And now he’s gone.

I saw the pain,

Like a blood stain,

Even before it occurred,

And so my heart got trampled,

Ran over by the herd

of thoughts and feelings I had,

But it wasn’t that bad.

The worst thing for me,

Was seeing you sad.

So I’m trying to move forward,

Trying to forget the fore-word

To this chapter of my life

Because it was burdened by love,

Not battered by strife.

I take a moment to reflect

on the feelings I finally detect,

But now I’ve got to try to move on.

Though it was right and not wrong,

Now it is gone.

No strings attached

to this attache

For inside is my cache

of lost hearts

and forgotten art.

And I won’t let you inside,

until you give me somewhere to hide

my humble, half-hearted humor

and my depression tumor.

No, there are no strings attached

to this emergency hatch.

I cling to it for safety and hope,

As I cling to my exit, a noose of rope.

I tell you, there’s no strings attached

I cut them with my samurai sword

Free my mind from fear and discord.

But the sword tears holes that cannot be patched.

I rip strings apart

Because of a lack of trust

and a broken heart.

I need to stop, I must.

There are no ties that bind around my neck

Becaue I’m a casual dresser,

An emotion repressor,

No ties that bind, not even a peck.

No strings attached,

No eggs have hatched.

You’ll never get in,

And I’ll never win.

Sitting in the hot sand

On the moon in the afternoon

Waiting for an answer

to this pestering question, festering in my mind

Who will stop this cancer of silence, this death enhancer?

“Communication has been scattered”

That was the last news I had heard

Mind is boiling, I’m still asleep

Dreams are silent, not a peep.

Awakening, I hear a noise

A noise, a noise, a noise

Some little child is playing with his toys.

Again a noise, a louder noise,

Someone splashing, splashing, thrashing about,

Someone drowning in the pool, no doubt!

It became so clear, so clear, the man’s message was so dear.

The only haunting problem was that no one could hear, no one could hear

His pleading screams and cries for help

over the splashing, splashing and thrashing in the water.

So no one saved his drowning daughter.

Messages are lost,

it’ll cost us all.

they’re lost, they’re lost.

Now we’ll fall

What can I do now?

Seems it’s over, static slowly stops

now only silence and ticking clocks

goodbye, goodbye! Away the ghost walks.

Drops of dew sit on the wing;

Sunlight from the horizon beginning to sing;

Waiting for the right moment to fly;

Learning to see through our blind eye;

Looking out the window I see fields of grass.

Looking out the window, I see animal paths.

Floating in the clouds above the sea,

I wonder what will become of me.

Where will I land and will I be safe?

In the sand, the water, some other place?

Drifting on a note of the violin,

Started out calm, but beginning to spin.

There are no maps for where I am going,

The sky is a blur when it is snowing.

But winter ice melts as the strong sun returns;

Cool weather calms as hot summers burn.

Every thing in its time and place,

Filling the void in empty space.

The sun is going down.

Silently, it swoops down upon the horizon,

As I sit in my chair without the lights on.

And I fear I won’t see the sun again.

I fear I’m falling slowly in outer-space.

And I feel the gravity tug on my face.

Don’t know whether I should smile or frown,

Don’t know whether I’m going up or down. 

And as I float past Pluto, I feel like throwing up.

But, somehow, I’m now walking on the moon,

And I know I’m growing up.

Why do we sometimes like to feel invisible?

To be in dark crevices beneath the crust?

Our cores turn cynical and our hearts to lust.

Fantasy, fiction, and fancy diction,

Desperately drive us towards our dream destinations,

Causing ourselves to head onwards half-heartedly.

Is a vision, a hope of a utopian paradise

Worth the fear of losing it twice?

Because supposedly, it was ours once.

To wake up from a dream, a respiteful reverie?

Or to sleep, believing the ill-conceived images you see?

Is it not better not to wake up and to sleep for an eternity?

Kind hands that have no demands,

Bury me at the beach in the sand.

Soft touch like water when the sun gets ever hotter,

So serene, moving is obscene, why bother?

Let it be, she said to me,

She told me to see the sea.

Kind voice which gave me no choice,

Beautiful and clear like the stars in the middle of nowhere,

And eyes so stunning, I’m stunned,

Frozen in time, they’re burned in my mind for all time.

Kind hands that have no demands,

Bury me at the beach in the sand.

Her voice is like a soft spoken silky sonata;

She’s so holy to me, I can see her stigmata.

Every word she speaks is like a note on the violin.

Every time I see her, everything’s right, I begin again.

Compared to her, I’m far below in outer space,

Compared to her, I am dim, she is aglow, I hope she can see my face.

All these words fall short of describing any part of her being,

All these words fall short, but I’m seeing and believing.

Kind hands that have no demands,

Bury me at the beach in the sand.

Kind hands that have no demands,

Bury me at the beach in the sand.