I lift my face to the rain;
it pours over me like sweetness
washing away confusion, sadness
waters down tears, eases pain
rinses away the residue
of life’s acid rain
that eats away at soul
and heart and mind
time is an illusion
what seems so pressing now
will pass through tree lined halls
with no notice taken;
Goddess tears, wept in generosity
I am left with lingering thoughts
of one that will not fade;
I love the rain!
Silently, I weep for you.
A teardrop falls
onto my pillow, for
another heartbreak at your hands.
Today is only one of the many times
that you have disappointed me.
A little sigh escapes my lips
my heart is broken, never will it mend.
A lonely little tear falls, unnoticed,
into an ocean of the sorrow that you have caused;
into the sea of sadness that I
have been drowning in
since I met you.
One lonely teardrop,
alone like me
when cry is all I can do
for the feeling I get when I look at you
one little teardrop that no one sees
falls softly like rain from a cloudy sky,
one little teardrop
that is my answer to your goodbye
falls from the crack in my heart
to mourn the loss of you.
053096
stark dismay upon departure
leads into unknows:
unfulfilled wanting, but not quite.
call it a day, or call it what you want to,
but i must remember that
i may not call it mine
and not for want, but sorrow.
and tumble up
from lofty height
then fall
to crashing earth
and crawl through
dryest desert
toward water-
i thirst,
but cannot drink.
fastest tide
sweeping away
holds me
under
I drown
in your depths
cannot breathe
nor do i want to
then rise above
into,
the wind
carries me
to this
i cannot sleep.
(*some things never change. I still can’t sleep. which is perhaps why I’m bothering archiving my crappy primitive teenage poetry instead of just burning it.*)
healing breeze brushes through hair
entranced by moonlit wanderings
through murky depths
soul-searching wordless thought
envelops consciousness
until yesterdays disappear
and recede into dim nothings
they can’t hurt me anymore
reality of NOW hypnotizes blind eyes
into forgetful peace
the ability to draw on past
but not drown in it
serenity entwines its’ essensce
into everyday meetings
with trustworthy souls
the ability to share
lessens the burdens of life
lifts the weight of the world for awhile
lends time to heal, to grow.
I can feel the sun!
I can see the sky!
I almost think that I can fly!
Have you ever felt the sun
as it beat against your back,
or the gentle summer rain
as it caressed your face?
Have you ever sat in the shade of a tree
on a warm bed of leaves
and just took in nature?
Have you wept in despair
that you would never meet a dryad,
or dance with Bacchus and his wild girls,
or drink in the sweet morning dew with faeries and fauns?
Have you ever really seen a sunset?
Have you climbed the highest mountain,
scaled the tallest wall,
or crawled thirsting through a desert?
And have you felt the sorrow of our loss?
Do you know what it’s like to wake from a dream,
weeping for what you have left behind,
even though it’s only a memory of lost bliss
that you never really knew?
And, have you felt, in your soul,
sorrow which cannot be consoled;
Has your heart ever ached,
eclipsed it’s threshold for pain?
Have you felt fire in yourself,
and have you kindled it in others?
Have you known emptiness,
the lack of these things,
and the blindness it gives birth to?
I used to go to writing workshops and poetry workshops on weekends with my Advanced English teacher and a couple other students. This was one of my scribblings from a weekend at UW Stevens Point on 7-6-1993. I was 15 when I wrote this.
—
Sharply defined contours
chiseled lovingly
by metal that caressed and
filed cement,
precision controlled by a human hand;
sanded and worked into perfection
beams gripping the walls like hands
or like a noose
they will be here long after I am gone
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