if you like my poems let them

One of my most heinous crimes is being overtly too succinct. There is so much I can feel, but still be unable to give you words to paint this picture.
(If) only you would understand. Maybe the pain is mandatory?

Maybe if you saw me, you'd be able to see it in my eyes,
the way I see it in yours.
Seeing with newer eyes,
the old pain.

Falling Away With You... " I travelled half the world to say, You Are My Muse."
What is this musery.

"Pills of information, pills of misinformation, we swallow a handful everyday."
"Willingly and by choice. If only tags existed to differentiate between them.. And even then, would you not still willingly be misinformed if it felt better? Pills, you say. Way of life, says I."

It is no secret that I miss you.
It's all routine.

Soliloquy of the Solipsist

I?
I walk alone;
The midnight street
Spins itself from under my feet;
When my eyes shut
These dreaming houses all snuff out;
Through a whim of mine
Over gables the moon's celestial onion
Hangs high.


I
Make houses shrink
And trees diminish
By going far; my look's leash
Dangles the puppet-people
Who, unaware how they dwindle,
Laugh, kiss, get drunk,
Nor guess that if I choose to blink
They die.

I
When in good humor,
Give grass its green
Blazon sky blue, and endow the sun
With gold;
Yet, in my wintriest moods, I hold
Absolute power
To boycott any color and forbid any flower
To be.

I
Know you appear
Vivid at my side,
Denying you sprang out of my head,
Claiming you feel
Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,
Though it's quite clear
All you beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,
From me.





~Sylvia Plath

please (don't) stop

It's this air.
It subjects us to beautiful thoughts and wondrous ideas, and then
tells us that it is not ours to have.
Why do you taunt us so?
There is much to love without having created.
Admirers.
Where is the line?
In my mind crawls babies of epiphanies,
my potential genius.
What bars them?
You.
You, with your fanciful promises
of unending happiness, storage of
fulfilment, and loving lies.
You hinder my growth
by not letting me live
as I ought to.
But I have made you,
you exist as some delusion
of Mine.
Yes, you are but a thought,
a potential ideal
in a 3D space,
that has failed me.
How unbecoming.
You are mine, my creation
that deems to possess me?
Am I subconsciously claiming Myself back?
I will never understand you,
you are Unfinished.
robotic.
clipped.
We cannot exist in togetherness;
We cannot exist apart.
There is a train of my thought
that binds me to you.
We do not feel alive
unless we are hurting,
is why.

Here I Go..

Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air
I know I can count on you.
Sometimes I feel like saying
Lord I just don't care
But you've got the love I need 
To see me through.

Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough
And things go wrong no matter what I do.
Now and then it seems that life is just too much
But you've got the love I need to see me through.

When food is gone you are my daily meal ,
When friends are gone, I know my saviour's love is real
Your love is real

You got the love

Time after time I think 
Oh Lord what's the use?
Time after time I think it's just no good
Sooner or later in life, the things you love, you lose,
But you got the love I need to see me through.

You got the love

Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air
I know I can count on you.
Sometimes I feel like saying 
Lord I just don't care,
But you've got the love I need to see me through.

You got the love
You got the love
You got the love
You got the love
You got the love
You got the love

You Got The Love - Florence & The Machine 

I really love this song, but somehow, when I played it this morning, it made me feel different. Dad calls it 'growing up', but I think of it as a paradigm shift in the right direction.

I spoke to Emile yesterday. I'd like very much to tell you who Emile is to me, but it won't mean anything to you. I'd rather you learn about him by reliving his thoughts, as I do. Anyway. We had a conversation that went pretty much like this:

Emile: What are we? :(

Me: Seekers.

Emile: But what if there isn't any answers?

Me: There is nothing but answers. We're looking for questions that fit. Finding ourselves in our past so we can create a future. You can't know what something is if you don't know what it isn't.

This may seem totally unrelated to the song, but it's probably because your mind isn't as warped as mine. I've always been a cynic, it's in my nature. I'd always thought that I was better off for it. But there's always a point at which you can find no solution, and you have to trust someone else to tell you what is right - and here's the catch - you have to really trust them enough to believe that they're leading you down the right path.

Uh, sidenote: This has nothing to do with religion, okay, that nonsense is for another day.

So yeah, I'm at that point where I am trusting someone with my heart. I am going to believe him when he tells me that love is real. I think I'm ready for it.

Yours (in faith - omg the 'f' word, yes)
Jesamania










 

Rain

There is a reason for things having to change. We may not appreciate them, but we must accept them.

I'm still just me. Learning to love, learning to live, spelling things correctly.
I've come to realise that not everything is to be understood.

Things are changing
Faces going from strange to familiar,
To strange again
In one surreal blur,
Lost, awake and unafraid.
I know home from its cinnamon breath.

Things are changing
And you
But you stay the same
Your fear of mirrors
Your love for flight
And the scar on your brow

She sang in the distance, lost in the field:

We’ll run away, join a circus
live off the land, on fresh air and
Cigarette smoke
Curling away from your lips
Grey, but the happy kind
I see the dead wind dance
Like your tongue behind your lips
 
Things are changing
I can feel it when we kiss.
And your happiness
Drawn with bare fingertips
And remains of dry blood under your nails
In molten puddles of wax
Those candles kept us up
These candles help us sleep

Things are changing
But the nightmares are now pleasant dreams
And the demons wear flowers in their hair
Dance like the waves
colliding in farewell
Praying for rain.
There are no tears

Out here in the fields, things are changing
But they’ll always
Never quite change enough. 

Happiness will find me, and stuff.
Thank you for just being there for me.
If nothing else - for you, I Will Try.

I love you, Cohen.