My loss- my love- which knows no bounds
seems to adhere to the silence of sounds.
In the miracle of moments- those precious few.
I seem to be dreaming- always thinking of you.
The memory of your form constantly keeps me warm
through these lonely nights, I find your presence.
And in the morn when again I am born,
I am filled with what I can only think of as effervescence.
That energy is spent- as has the day went-
running down into the dark of night.
And for the briefest period, I conflict with a myriad
of horrors that stab me with fright.
So, with pad and pen, I fight them back again
in the mightiest battle of words and ink.
Until the untold number is sent back to slumber
and I sleep- and dream- and think
Of a second chance in this repetitive dance
where I whisk you away from the heartache that pounds
to a world truly true, with songs of I love you.
So far away from the silence of sounds.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Almost sounds like you are dreaming of a poem maybe, and you wake up in the middle of the night and try to write it down before you forget too much.
ReplyDeleteI never thought of it like that. Interesting. My intention (which means exactly shit- take it the way you read it) was for it to be read real slow but I didn't want to put in alot of ... because too much ... can get annoying. The way I read it, he/she sleeps well when dreaming of their love, is energized by it- which gets him/her thru the day but at night the loneliness and heartache attacks again. Writing gets out the aggression until he/she can return to that dreamworld where things end differently... but the more I read your comment and reread the poem, your view really works and sounds so cool - I think I'll go with that one.
ReplyDeleteI see your way. Guess I went too deep. Or maybe I just took skimmed the meaning. I love it though. But then, I am a fan from way back.
ReplyDelete