brokenpoet.org

i found her heart in a small box,
forgotten in the back
  of an abandoned drawer

this is what love becomes

broken
shattered night unfolds
deepest instinct

long into the night
i stroll through pastures
of forgotten truths

whispering into a faerie’s ear
secrets of long lost hopes
and dreams

bright and shivering madness
pulling teeth from skin
splaying open reason
dissecting peace for flawless
  words
itching crawling up the spine
neck on fire with ideas
  of home

another place to hold
silence, stillness
away from this
jagged edgeless
world of thoughts that
never lie down and die

empty and feeling
  so much more than this
should be necessary
for existence
in this banal plane
cannot find a center
for expressive conditions
for a place for my hope
in current eventual
  situations
a place to lie low
and let the pulse overflow
drowning me blissfully
in idle conditions
in place of home

a feeling
insufficient, ignored
hollow guilt
escaping past mistakes, impossible
a wonder every breath,
a hidden whisper, dissenting
dissecting every intention
every action filtered through past transgressions

how then to start over
being held back by every mistake
every fault a certain malicious intention, perceived
but not meant

a lifetime with no real forgiveness
only judgement
the new man i try for every day,
killed by so many subtleties

so many looks and words

elusive memory
fading lights on the tree
a dim childhood remembrance
lost years
of togetherness
and tears

–

an example of what
a father, a husband
a tall order of a shadow

how can i follow this
reinventing ideals
trying to be a man
i have no reference
no path travelled

generations of
ill conceived notions
corrupted means of affection
a man’s best
seems not enough
never enough

–

when the spiritual journey is put to rest
all answers opened to the inner mind
or perhaps a tiredness of questioning
what passions are left
what desires hold tight
clinging to the unfulfilled fantasies
of youth played out
unraveled like so much string
a toy discarded, forgotten

maybe not forgotten
certainly left to the wolves

the road has ended in this
life of complacency
or the seeking thereof
a shallow hole
or a new beginning
letting go of the questions
dismissing the inner voices
quieting the mind
a thought of zen
but then,
is ego loss the end
a quieting of the longing
a certainty in what has been found
to the degree
that no seeking is self evident
anymore

or is it more an oasis
in the desert
of no concrete answers
in a life
lived with all eyes closed
and seeking sight
nonetheless

sweetness gathers
like sugar on my lips
intoxicating
waiting
to once again
kiss your eyes
your face
your neck

to live in the world
of your steady embrace
hushed, whispering
speaking my name
kissing my sins away
cleansing

hide me in your arms
protect me from
my own thoughts
the sharp tongue
of introspection
silenced
by the softness of your lips
on my forehead
heat of your breath
in my ear

shine mad goddess
manipulate whispered
moments
sweet language aches
beneath a delirious moon

bitter love will recall
winter in my delicate
   blood

feeling at a loss
of all expression
a veritable blank
of emotion
what is one to feel
in the dwindling sunlight
of a forgotten day
medicated to the point
of not caring for
or giving in to
these subtle nuances
lost on my fevered brain
erect mechanical motions
the beast walks and
talks but cannot express
or feel

dying inside
with every passing moment
i close a door
and quietly crawl inside