This is alot of dreams and memories I had and still have. Many losses and gains, conversations i've had, things I've done, places I've been, basically.....my life, and inside my head.
I came in.
The day was gone.
And so he wandered.
So easy and simple,
Like a river cool and quiet.
The poetry, this weird feeling,
The reasons, make me write.
He looked out from the car.
I could see his face in the mirror,
So alive and gentle.
He turns and smiles.
There is chaos,
And there is sunshine.
The music fills up and I drown in the water of his voice.
'Did he know?' I'd say.
Sometimes and only sometimes
I feel a pang within.
Deep where not my blood reaches.
He comes around as if reborn every time
And opens like a new flower.
Moving and endless.
There is laughter in his eyes.
It's like a floating breeze,
Lingering, haunting and free.
Slowly....he becomes, changes,
Slowly.
The dust kicked up,
It happened again,
His hands ceased to belong,
And they drove away.
They talked and departed,
Same in thought.
Did hatred burn in their hearts?
Candle after candle, searching?
He lies there.
One begins to bleed.
He isn't in a good mood.
Tired, he feels like he will never awake in a good mood ever again.
He is not alone.
Now immortal,
Do you still feel lost?
Is everything blue and clear?
Living life, always living
Every second, perfectly spent.
It all twines like vines to hold us back,
To save us from ourselves.
Everyone was there, everyone,
Good times rang out
Like the bright glow of the full moon.
You could feel yourself slip away.
Just slip away.
Slip away in the night.
Trips of all kinds,
Streets and avenues.
All the way to the edge of town.
The path of the sun.
Starting outside.
Revolt, and disorder.
The way, the way,
The only way.
Caves are dry, they slope into powerful canyons that make the perfect grave.
The air hangs like an unspoken word kept inside.
We are out there.
How quick and clever.
Soft fire kindles me to sleep,
And stays with me.
Words, the addiction, the need.
The murderer, the swordsman, the archer.
Can it be more real?
Both looking out and in,
If you can believe it.
Poetry by Zane
Read 570 times
Written on 2006-11-20 at 17:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Immortal Love and Pain
I came in.
The day was gone.
And so he wandered.
So easy and simple,
Like a river cool and quiet.
The poetry, this weird feeling,
The reasons, make me write.
He looked out from the car.
I could see his face in the mirror,
So alive and gentle.
He turns and smiles.
There is chaos,
And there is sunshine.
The music fills up and I drown in the water of his voice.
'Did he know?' I'd say.
Sometimes and only sometimes
I feel a pang within.
Deep where not my blood reaches.
He comes around as if reborn every time
And opens like a new flower.
Moving and endless.
There is laughter in his eyes.
It's like a floating breeze,
Lingering, haunting and free.
Slowly....he becomes, changes,
Slowly.
The dust kicked up,
It happened again,
His hands ceased to belong,
And they drove away.
They talked and departed,
Same in thought.
Did hatred burn in their hearts?
Candle after candle, searching?
He lies there.
One begins to bleed.
He isn't in a good mood.
Tired, he feels like he will never awake in a good mood ever again.
He is not alone.
Now immortal,
Do you still feel lost?
Is everything blue and clear?
Living life, always living
Every second, perfectly spent.
It all twines like vines to hold us back,
To save us from ourselves.
Everyone was there, everyone,
Good times rang out
Like the bright glow of the full moon.
You could feel yourself slip away.
Just slip away.
Slip away in the night.
Trips of all kinds,
Streets and avenues.
All the way to the edge of town.
The path of the sun.
Starting outside.
Revolt, and disorder.
The way, the way,
The only way.
Caves are dry, they slope into powerful canyons that make the perfect grave.
The air hangs like an unspoken word kept inside.
We are out there.
How quick and clever.
Soft fire kindles me to sleep,
And stays with me.
Words, the addiction, the need.
The murderer, the swordsman, the archer.
Can it be more real?
Both looking out and in,
If you can believe it.
Poetry by Zane
Read 570 times
Written on 2006-11-20 at 17:32
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text