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The Man and the MoonHer mouth corners hung themselves
and I began to wonder if that was the death of them.
A simple, quiet death;
without broken fingernails lining the walls
with the stripes of a despairing end.
I began to ache with the questioning in my heart
with the echoes reverberating in my capillaries
of her face scorching sunshine in her smile
right before it crumpled
and nothing was left but a frowning moon
set firm in its resignation to an upcoming eclipse.
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.

i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;

i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)

and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav
He doesn't write poetry anymore.He doesn’t write poetry anymore,
even if he still collects it, reads it, saves it, treasures
faded verses from his wife the way connoisseurs
savor vinyl over metallic rainbows on disc.
I don’t mind not knowing, but I can’t stand not asking.

The record needle hits the groove wrong;
he stumbles over words that aren’t there,
rummaging for an answer he doesn’t really have.
He doesn’t write poetry anymore
and his confusion is strangely endearing.

But there’s a lyricism to his words that I love,
poetic lines inserted between the daily grind
of character names and who said what;
voiceless boys in white a
PocketLeftover religion in the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
A key that unlocks nothing
A penny, a scrap of paper
With half of your name
Written in black ink

A song that is usually in my head
In the shriveled carcass
Of a long-dead dream
In the pocket
Of my trenchcoat
With the lint
with thanks to frosttwo roads diverged in a soulless dawn
and you pull over,
idling on the shoulder of route 50.
it's a polaroid morning and
the world is as grainy
and sleep-heavy
as your eyes,
and one million miles
is not far enough.
it plays back, filmstrip,
blurred along the length of
optic nerves,
and here you are:
facing a choice between
on
and
out.
and this?
this loosejointed, hollowbodied
weightless ache--
this is what
gone
feels like.
SurelyIt was raining
when we kissed for the first time,
for the last time.

Thin rivulets
sunk into the shrunken space
between our bodies
and divided us
like nothing could before,
like everything will
from now
until that never again
when we will
see each other once more,
no more.

Your eyes were
that bewitching shade
of dull brown blue
with all of the light darkness
whirling
in a placid pond
around a pupil
overflowing with vacancy,
and me
and my frowning smile.

The winter heat
fell like a rising tide
and,
for our every breath
was another death
so black and full of life --
embracing our boiled ice skin
as we drew apart,
came together and broke free
Condemnedbeneath the beaten earth they lay,
their dreams condemned to ashes,
and our restless bodies stretch,
for forgiveness, for direction –

survivors of the abyss,
amidst wide-eye, silent soldiers –
so many dead, so many maimed,

how many graves are we standing on, today?
Life, Death And A Pork Chop SandwichAll tangled up, hard to breathe
This steel cloud day that swirls
With heat and pounding hammers
I shake in my boots and cough up
Blood, rust and damaged flesh
Waiting for the second coming
Maybe next time around there'll be
Some chance for more than this

A twisted barbed wire halo
Wrapped tight around my skull
Blinding white light aura
Swarming with flies I'm flying
To pieces, thousands of shards
Cannot be brought back together
But I will remember the summer
Of my first Chevrolet in each bit

Gleaming bits of glass in the desert
Each reflecting a different moment
Still, now, enduring until the waves
Of a new ocean sweep them away
No pain
SisterSister

A sister is like a soul mate;
Someone who is always there
to guide me through fate.

A sister is,
a part of childhood that I cannot erase;
A sister like you,
is one that I would never replace
because you always know how to
put a smile on my face.

I know I can depend on you
to always be there for me;
This is one hundred percent guaranteed!

I've had great memories with you
in the past;
and I hope there are many more
to come,
in the future.
Pretty little things called words and dustif you weren't a hypocrite,
you'd be wrapped in the sweetest
perfumes
(learning
how to engulf the ocean
with your lungs
and think of how to cup it
in your hands
despite
your broken prayers and
still be beautiful)

dance with the gypsies
'till noon
(a quake in
your hips like the thrust
of continents
and the faultlines
emanating from
your spine,
but still
so, so graceful)

sing with the nymphs
in tune
(your voice,
it's growing old,
raspy even.
your throat's burning dry
like a monsoon
faltering in a desert,

and tones
still octaves
powerful)

be nestled in a king's arms
soon  
(oh, you precious
little thing.
how
Lost In ConfusionMy mind is spinning without a rest
emotions whirl and twirl around
A merry-go-round gaining speed
Until the world blurrs before my eyes
What's happening? What's going on?

The simplest thought slips away
Right from my mind, fading so fast
Trying to focus, I stare and stare
Until my eyes are heavy and unclear.  
I don't understand, what is going on...

Emotions rise and fall again
Within the blink of an eye
I'm crying, laughing, and depressed
A rollercoaster ride that never ends
Am I losing my mind in this ?

I try to close my eyes and rest
But the world spins me around
I feel like I am failing this test
Voices and noisies echo in my min
A Night By the FireNo light,
The light sired by the night
All above whilst the day's delights
Now disappears from mortal sight.

Faded away is the sun's power,
Taking the stage now is night's sallow flower;
Now mortals may behold the stars and falling shower.

Set in a pit Nature's skyscraper ablaze
And revel in the emanating heat as you gaze,
Looking down on occasion when you hear a crack from the fire
And witness "fireflies" flying away from mother's blaze;
Dying shortly after but not lacking burning beauty do they desire!

I look out towards the teasing shore
And meditate as we sit upon her door,
Thinking on what my future has in store;
Who I am now and even
Puppet  My tears fall,

      like invisible

               diamonds.

 My heart beats,

      like soundless

               drums.

 Unwanted,

       because of the

             strings attached.
Why meI wanted sleep very badly
I tried my hardest to rest
I closed my eyes and laid there
But sleep didn’t come easy
I would doze off
And wake back up
Again
Why me? When I know I have to be up at 3 AM.
DangerousMermaids; they seduce you then hold you under
Vampires; will kiss your lifeblood away
Mages, will turn your own mind against you
While trolls will hunt you down if you stay
Run through the woods, don’t stop for nothing
Monsters wait with jaws opened wide
Ignore that pretty elf, who’s probably plotting something dark
For she will torture you once she’s lured you inside
Orcs; will have a craving for your flesh
While dwarves are just prejudiced against your height
Dragons are very skilled when it comes to fire
While faeries will torment you throughout the night
So run little weakling, don’t stop now
The faery realm has go
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More from `spunj13

help in our destruction
help in our destruction

verse 1:

there's a thousand dead-beat dad down on the corner all marching to the baet of differrent drummers. we don't care enough to stop them while we picket anti-abortion clinics, shouting "kill them anyways....it's just one less mouth to feed."go ahead, scream "liberty" while you join the masses and run off to fight the big bad eastern monster with your guns and your war.  whatever happened to the homefront. a beast feasting on destruction, becoming powerhungry while babies die in Africa and no one notices.  we can't see beyond our faces, stuck in the mire of our own self-evaluation.  throw our hands up to the sk
my heart-
my heart

you took my heart when you left

you didn't know that you held it
but it travels with you
silent
pliable to your words
and at night i think
of my heart
and i dream of you
and hold these memories
fleeting moments
for two

so hold onto my heart
just like you held my hand
and think of me
as i dream of you

november 26, 2001
1:52 am
memory motion pictures
memory motion pictures

these memory motion pictures
that play incessently in my mind
winding
twisting
in my waking dreams
as i try to find sleep
grainy snapshots
of boys on beaches
in the cold
with plastic cameras in hand
and sand between their toes
moments captured forever in my brain
of camping trips
and rain overflows
into tents with no zippers
slow motion reminders
stolen kisses
dark nights
and long walks in the cold
conversations that led to nothing
but absolution
and petty talk that changed who we are
freeze frame the graduations
the birthdays
the christmases surrounded by family
while i search for rest
a contradiction
a contradiction

we celebrate our freedom
with the blood of a nation staining our hands
bowing heads to give thanks
for the things
we are taking from them
our abundance grows
while what little they have is destroyed
loosen our belts
and lay back in our easy-chairs
don't think of them
running
from the falling bombs
they have nothing to celebrate
yet
we,
in our indifference
raise our fists
and cheer on the army
as they turn a nation to rubble

"this is war"
you cry
but what do you know of war?
you
surrounded by family
well-fed
happy
stagnant and secure
your petty troubles meaning nothing
to the homeless man
w
in dreams - part ii
in dreams - part ii

sometimes,
i wish
life were more like day-dreams
a part of my reality
i suppose
with you so far away
i could cope with the loneliness
growing steadily
with every passing hour
just to think of you
and you are here
to think of you
in my arms
and you appear

november 22, 2001
2:15 am
sometimes-
sometimes

sometimes she sits by the window
tears shining in her eyes
waiting
wanting
but no man is perfect
her scarred heart bearing witness to her pain
and she wears the smile
to hold back the sorrow
the years of brokeness
the decades of fear

sometimes she walks in the garden
the light reflecting in her eyes
wishing
praying
for an end to this monotony
but her torn heart will not let her go
and she wears the ring
in spite of her hatred
this binding sentence
that she cannot escape

sometimes she waits by the window
the loneliness darkening her eyes
sighing
sleeping
waiting for the end
her heart bearing the signs

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June 16, 2002
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your eyes give you away

:iconspunj13:

.

your eyes give you away

he proffered his hand
and you took it
       willingly
closing my eyes
       freezing my emotions
       once again
repeat the past

and looking up into your face
       you could not meet my eyes
as fingers danced beneath the table

an empty laugh
a barren smile
       did you think you would fool anyone?
the world already knows
offering excuses for your actions
       apologies for your mistakes
but you are living for the moment
and visionless you continue on
       without me
       within me
the thorn that buries itself in my heart

he offered his arm
and you took it
       readily
shutting my eyes
       to bitter unshed tears
       once again
and we repeat the past







june 16, 2002
8:02 pm
:iconspunj13:
here's one of the promised poems as per inspiration of last weekend *sigh*... as these poems unravel themselves maybe you'll see what happened

//spunj13
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:iconguidinglight:
~guidinglight Jul 5, 2003
Excellent poem, i do not need to state the obvious ..lol
Ur work is brilliant.
The amount of comments is overwhelming! Nice one!
Reply
:iconyour-noose:
~your-noose Dec 22, 2002   Photographer
So great, yet so sad. Such a description of my life at the moment. Thank you.
Reply
:iconlorelaiv:
~lorelaiv Jun 26, 2002
Oh my...painfully familiar emotions...
Reply
:iconhedda:
~hedda Jun 24, 2002
I can guess what is going on....
:( (Sad)

great poem though....you paint a picture of a truly selfish person... ((sigh))
the repeated reference to your eyes is very powerful...

Love
Reply
:iconmilath:
~milath Jun 21, 2002
like the symmetry of this one.. really helps mark the emotion. i get the feeling of someone listening to a favorite song over and over until they're sick of it. if that makes any sense at all.. :O (Eek)

'fingers danced beneath the table' god, what a great phrase!

excellent work as usual from you.

milath
Reply
:iconanemovatis:
~anemovatis Jun 20, 2002  Professional Interface Designer
After reading this only one word escaped my mouth +fav :) (Smile)
Reply
:iconmasterfire:
~masterfire Jun 19, 2002
when i read this i got the weirdest feeling...

o yea, beautiful writting..
Reply
:iconcouchfry:
~couchfry Jun 19, 2002
man you slay me with every piece of yours i read :( (Sad) ......great piece, love the emotions that you evoke with piece. nice and i understand all the more what you're going through ........:( (Sad)
Reply
:iconjesusbite:
~jesusbite Jun 18, 2002
Wow. Just... wow. dumbstruck. Sadness. wow. I want to w00t, but it wouldnt be appropriate, would it?
Reply
:iconepitomei:
~epitomei Jun 18, 2002
oh my. i am so far from being good with words in response to words, but this is so entirely wonderful. beautiful crafting/weaving*
Reply
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