Parallel
Complements,
Praise,
Rare to attain.
Achievements,
Rewards,
Hard to sustain.
Doubt,
Dispair,
Not too uncommon.
Delight,
Happiness,
Long forgotten.
Ice,
Freezing,
Yet comforting.
Fire,
Poèmes sur le thème : shadow
Poèmes sur le thème « shadow » sur Poets.by.
Signature
My name is blue paint, cracked, peeling
I know all too well - that fickle feeling
and all the cracks on that musty ceiling.
My name is echoes of a time gone by
I can't ignore, though I may try
-shadows that might never die.
My name is silence, empty, fleeting
broken only by muffled eating
and sagging in that eternal seating.
My name is lost, forgotten, old
and really would rather not be told
lest it remind of that rotten hold.
My name is breathing, heavy, strained
-an unsettled joy now forever stained
by feelings that have since remained.
My name is hunger, hatred, unrefined
The Echo
Nightmares from when I was 6 years old
return to terrorize me at twenty
and I keep discovering little things
that might mean more.
I begin to realize the intricacies,
hearing them whispering on the streets
and a news report in my head
reporting everything I’m doing.
Specters of people invade my room,
searching, sneaking, stealing,
taunting, tormenting, torturing,
and then fading into thin air.
Tell my doctor and he sends me
where I can’t wear shoe-laces,
or smoke a cigarette outside designated times.
They pass out pills, make me forget I exist.
Do you know??
Do you know what it feels like?
To have death stalk your thoughts
and follow you more than your own shadow?
to have it haunt you as if everyday is halloween night?
to be so close it that the smell stanches your skin?
to have it mindfuck you every night?
to not want to wake up
and face reality head-one with nothing
but duffel-bag eyes, a tired body and hopes of today being better than yesterday?
Do You?
Homo sapiens hirsutus
Happening to glance at my left forearm the other day,
Dark brown skinned and hairy
I notice that more hair have turned white.
Someday, if I live long enough,
My left forearm would turn all white
The darkness of my brown skin,
but not of my mind, hidden, hopefully.
Looking at the tuft, the bushy growth of hair
On my chest ( ah, not on my head!), again white ( why grey?)
I wistfully remember how, dark, how black it once were.
I hardly need a mirror these days, having not much
On the head to comb and pat them down.
I cling on (and at times nips at)
The vestige of my manhood, my moustache
Bristling, drooping bicycle handlebars,
The beard I dare not grow
A Tree blossoms at my grave
Blinding sun-
My shadow, pause awhile
As you pass my grave
And I will be content with thee.
One day, life will bloom
From my remains –
Then, in its shade-
Stay, forever.
The Shadow
One foot in front of the other,
Speed continually increasing,
Reluctant to look back,
Indifferent to pushing and shoving,
With no definite destination,
You continue to run,
No care about fatigue,
No worry of dehydration,
Not knowing when to stop,
If the end is near,
Not knowing if you should go back,
To conquer that fear,
Others watch and shake their heads,
Having been there before,
Until they learned there was no finish,
It did them no good,
On Reaching Old Age
Time is fleeting in its passing
And does jolt the memory
Recalling images of long ago
When life seemed to stretch far away
Safe from Death’s stalking shadow.
As a child I thought as a child
Seeing only bright summer days
With friendships I thought to last forever
And parents who could never die
Old age a distant foreign land.
Now walking the land of the elderly
Old bones and old man troubles
Wondering how long before Death
No longer stalks but claims me
And time is no longer fleeting and stops.
Internal Monologue Uprising
Except these people haven't any dominion over you that
You don't hand to them yourself,
In your misguided attempts at self-parenting
A seed cannot water itself,
And requires the gentle warming touch of the sun
And yet we try to raise ourselves in the shadows
Of our own reprisals
We are children with no mothers
Rushing through a well-lit world with our eyes closed
"Open
Open
Open your eyes!"
And the voice of our collective heart remains pleading
Just stop running for a moment,
Hold your hands out to the void
And dare yourself to feel
When I Grew Up
When I was your child I learned
The saltiness of my own tears, I knew
Which hours of the day
And night
We're best for me to be invisible
The answer was all of them
And so I became invisible, the best
I could, but somehow I would always find a way
To instigate and provoke
I was just a blip on the radar with
A thousand other blips
I must have been the biggest one
Or the smallest, because I could never
Quite hide well enough to stay unseen
I was different
In some unfathomable fashion
* * *
the shadows around the corner before
the cars there's the back windows too slow
moment
away from
the setting sun
project tall bug-
gye flickering past
trees
changed here
through the seasons
over the road
branched out
* * *
no shadow is cast
then coming in from the sun
I find the house dark