10 Years Worth of Writing part 4 -- Poetry & Grace

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Date Posted: 07/11/09 10:57:22pm
Author: Brad
Subject: 10 Years Worth of Writing part 4

�Blame it on the Bossanova�

While calm of spirit and peace of mind
he lay in bed hearing silent rhymes

pondering the question
she's "dazed and confused"

a difficult task
trying to discern lustful obsession
and true love's mask

questions perplexed him
needing an answer at all cost
he showed up unannounced
and was completely lost

the problem was he was scared
or it just wasn't time
he began writing bad poetry
in perplexing rhyme

so while he is working
he might start leaving clues
letting the movie Amelie
be his muse

Serendipity

Days held in silence
receiving notes
written in the wind
when forced to listen

the DJ is spinning
twether angel or dead
eyes opening red
the skies are clearing

sea lion woman
dances in waves
held together
by serendipity

receiving messages
from a atheist
the typo reads
"it's all god"

�True Intentions�

Holding the negatives
up to the light
Golden Crimson
images in sight

faces places
good memories and past
can renew
friendships that last

towers and hours
still
building a space

wanting to place
a smile
on their face

take courage
don't wait
the rumors
are fake

just
open your heart
begin
and communicate

good intentions
remind
the truth
in our minds

what's true
is kind
is forgiven
in time

ignite unite
with much fun
to share

we dance
perchance
with savoire faire

you'll find
refine
good days
reveal

the comfort
and ease
are feelings
we feel

An Errant Tear

Fishing for words
the chemicals make you numb
prescription for the heart
soul and lungs

memories, as the years pass
images of a similar face
soft and beautiful
Last like plush lips

where�s the mind
that matches the soul?

Was there ever another half
to this whole?

�Connect the Dots�

White Lines used to connect him to everyone
and lost the long forgotten who he used to be

Those in lines don�t seem to care
pre or post

these pages are blank
to hide the self-exile

only knowing who not to be
without knowledge of being anyone

behind the busy mind
hides the dormant heart

�Before You�

His world used to have a solitary soundtrack
sitting back cityscape corner view

watching, hearing.
you

music filling ears
colors ,lights, years
gone by

streaming light
silenced
in the night

recent years
steer
bombardment
noise and drama

input input input
music movies
sex lies drugs
input input
drown drown
the pain down

never sitting back
in the city filled soundscape
music filled solitary ears
watching the world stream past

never to rest...

�Forgetting to feel�

Cold and foggy
the ex-best friend lies
on the other side of the fog
in a coma

The heart doesn�t grieve anymore
and hasn�t for a while
being clean and "normal"
has left me flat lined

like this poem
like my emotions
like the fog
like my friend

"High" Definition

The noise is gone
The smoke is gone
drugs, users, abusers
all have left

Its just him again
Its just quiet again
Worse for the wear
an awkward affair

Is what he�d call it
None the less
alone
but not lonely

With that world outside my windows
why would he miss the drama
love, loss, sorrow, hurt
He makes himself laugh

and can always change the channel...

�Look Away?�

"These shall be MY people"
and for the faithless
how confused you truly are
may the blindfold of lies be removed
My strong people WILL RISE
and you will hear the cries in the night
you cannot look away
in the eyes of them that believe
they cry for you

"You've got mail"

They come in the morning
One by one
Face after face
a little text
pleads the case

Men put them out
before they sleep
a pretty face absent
walking into an empty room

Women wake up
seeking filler
for an empty bed
before the make up

Check your email
Seek a reply

This is the loneliness
of the modern day romance

Some things never change
The untouched pillows
remain the same...

�Time is not relative�

You walk into memories where time holds no boundries

You go somewhere, smile, take a picture
maybe write a few words

Go home
Go to sleep

Days pass,
maybe a week

Nothing's changed
Flash in the past

Yesterday
Is a year ago
Two
Ten
Two
a year ago
Yesterday

When you walk away
it's the same
As when you walked In

�History�

orators on cobblestones
preachers without face
slip silently away
into normalcy

locked away
city on display
quiet
content

from the brutish bunch
in their paranoid place
we hold peace,
hope and faith

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