Running Alone


Things that we wanted
Were not things we needed.
Wishes and things and butterfly wings
Were only our simple dreams.

And, when you suffered
We tried to show each other
Easy ways to exit. Easy ways to fall.
Easy ways to die.
But, no way to forget.

Under the blue summer sky,
I sat and waited, and thought:
"Why you can't hear me,
Why we can't touch me again."

The shade is cool, and the bushes bend
Their limbs in the ocean's warm spray.
As does this broken soul
Laying across my bed tonight.

Even the terns run against the currents edge.
Find me at midnight,
Running into rain in the night,.
Running into pain in my fright.
Leaning on a wall built without mortar.

Sunrise and surprise,
Have no more beauty.
No harmony in the trusted song,
Nor fragrance from the lily.
No glow from summers moon.

Until yesterdays become memories,
Our conversation lessens its sound.
Until tomorrows become precious songs,
The things we wanted
Are nothing more than warm tears.

Maybe, blue nights and black lights
Twist my mind.
Maybe, the senseless night
Is my fright.
Again. Once more.




Poetry by Morpheus
Read 684 times
Written on 2006-07-24 at 05:33

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Veld Cooper
'Things that we wanted
Were not things we needed'....
This and everything else in this poem just jumps out and plays like a marching band in the emotional psyche. You are so very gifted and we are so lucky to have you share works like this with us!
2006-08-22


Lalando
I will take the liberty of being rather direct in my criticism of this text.

I simply love the first stanza - particularly the butterfly part.

The "Easy" repetition in the following stanza is another excellent piece of work - not overdone.

The bit in diacritics in the subsequent stanza, however, I deem irrellevant for the poem - I must confess it annoys me to a certain extent. :)

In stanza 4, try to regain the rhyme and rhythm you had going so nicely in the first stanza - try mentioning the colour of the shade instead of it's coolness - everybody knows a shade is cool - tell me something I haven't noted about shades - their colour - their character, or the like - or tell us something we already know in a way we haven't heard before.

Stanza 5 - you have "night" in two subsequent lines - try to replace one of them with something else - I like the "fright" bit :)
And the wall is an excellent image, that might perhaps be elaborated.

Overall, the text cuts through my mind like a sharp blade, but it might perhaps be sharpened even further.
2006-08-06


Troll
i can't put it into words. but here are a couple of things i like:

Sunrise and surprise,
Have no more beauty

(that hits home...)

Until yesterdays become memories,
Our conversation lessens its sound.
Until tomorrows become precious songs,
The things we wanted
Are nothing more than warm tears.

(as someone who is waiting for a specific conversation to lessen its sound.. hoping for the precious songs to drown out the cacophony of time passed... at least there are warm tears, even if - in my medicated world - they haven't been cried)

so whatever it may be about, i found my own meaning it it... and i love it. simply awesome.
2006-07-27


Arti
This is a deep hitting write.
"Maybe, blue nights and black lights
Twist my mind.
Maybe, the senseless night
Is my fright.
Again. Once more."
Haunting.
2006-07-24