Sonnet #5 (’We’, part 2)

July 19, 2008 at 6:48 pm (Emotion, Life, Love, Sonnets, Spirit)

We are not done; there’s more to be said,

About Mortality’s gruesome and cold bed.

Our adjectives disclose a closed perspective,

They cannot grasp the totality’s incentive.

Love and God are either empty, or not,

The former is lost, the latter has hit the spot.

Emptiness and fullness places trust on the eye,

Without the viewpoint they cannot come nigh.

These two words, our salvations, leave us with a choice,

“Make us, or unmake us”, speaks their calm voice.

Love that uncanny feeling we fervently chase;

Until we surrender her, we are eluded from her face.

God, that logical impossibility, that ambiguous glitch,

How we yearn him for meaning; we would easily embrace the ditch.

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Sonnet #4 (’We’, part 1)

July 19, 2008 at 6:42 pm (Emotion, Life, Love, Sonnets, Spirit)

Drifters; humble, arrogant and sentient drifters,

We “row, row, row our boats gently down the stream”.

We step, step, step our feet in this coward’s dream.

Workers; soulless, conditioned and emotive workers.

Mortality, that coquettish wench, breathes us past GO,

The 200 we were promised in nowhere to be seen,

Card after card, mortgage after mortgage leaves us keen.

We drain our eyes of all life, and to pain we proclaim, NO!

But lo and behold! salvation awaits with a glimmer.

Empty words and imagined faces we conjure from deep,

The sweet burden of our illusions we motherly keep.

The very act makes the lights of pain dimmer and dimmer.

Love and God: the emptiest of all words we employ,

As salvation from misery becomes this arduous decoy.

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Sonnet #3

July 14, 2008 at 4:19 pm (Emotion, Life, Sonnets, Spirit)

His torments, dreads, and showers of envy do ramage,

The mere sight of his fellow darkens his eye,

Why does this green gem in his heart shine with damage?

Cain, oh, Cain: Abel is the loved, the beloved butterfly.

Your own Father does shun you, Fortune does smirk at you,

She embraces Abel, she loves him, she employs his destined road.

Turns a flirt in your presence; for you, she spares no second or two.

You wallow in your emerald swamp of misery, to God, you are but a toad.

Cain, oh, Cain; Abel is the one, the loved, cherished, God’s real son,

But can you really despise him for being himself; can you kill?

Can you eat that orphan’s bread, that tramp’s only bun?

Can you torture the lepper, poke fun at the terminally ill?

Interwoven are your lives, fatefully so; you are the Moon and he is Sun,

You cannot shine without him, night is nothing without you; you are brothers still…

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Velvet Gaze

April 28, 2008 at 9:22 pm (Emotion, Life, Poetry & Prose)

This velvet gaze drifts slowly over that which it cannot see;
In the moment of release its passion desires to flee.
With each menacing second his longed-for ways are stripped bare,
Nothing left from his head but his naked, lonely hair.

His velvet gaze now fixated upon an image that is reflected,
Rigid and stiff, he stops and wonders if himself he has rejected.
The mirror stands proudly, or maybe it’s his appearance,
Unknown to himself he finds no self-reverence.

These eyes he gazes upon are his, yet they bleed flaw,
Reasons for such a concept, from his thoughts withdraw.
Can there be a point when the point seizes to be,
Riddles from another world in his blindness make him see.

Origin-ality, person-ality, individu-ality are words he rejects,
Nothing, something and all, even himself he suspects.
Jokily he gets up and, genuinely attempts to write,
The joke turns personal, leaving his ego full of spite

The velvet gaze, no longer smooth, tender and seductive,
It conceals the sought-for with a blend that’s destructive
He seizes the urge to explain his ways, and instead quietly lingers,
At the moment of engagement it slips through his fingers.

That velvet gaze: the enemy, the friend, the all therein
It cannot see, yet it tries as its feeble power turns thin.
The monstrous gaze that is useless yet mandatory
It’s another tool in existence’s pointless inventory.

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Solitude

February 8, 2008 at 6:29 pm (Emotion)

Promises as solitude extends its step,
Paying off my salvation like a mournful debt.
Anguish fills my bones with sacredness,
A heart is bashful, standing alone in its nakedness.

Make manifest a companion from the external;
Extinguish the flames that are my internal.
My senses take leave of me day by day,
Desire rocks my loins, whilst I remain in dismay. 

Stop this patronizing of my hope,
Send me a sweetheart with which to elope.
Deny me this painful moment for love’s beginning,
Without love my end can have no meaning.

 A fantasy builds deep inside of me;
Seduced by its nature, I’m unable to break free.
Devoured by the longing thoughts of pleasure,
My tears becoming an obsessive treasure.

 Is this pain a catharsis, or is it not?
Or am I amidst pain’s circular plot?
Do these tears cleanse or do they stain?
I cannot be sure, only that solitude accompanies pain.

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