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thesleepingtypewriter
not what you’d expect . . .
September 15, 2020
Melt Away
Posted in Poetry tagged Love, Poetry at 11:31 am by thesleepingtypewriter
This has been sitting in my drafts for years…here it is for you to see.
***I liked this for a while after I wrote this, but now I’m not sure if I’m so entirely satisfied with it, anymore. I guess I was simply quite proud of the last line. It is my favorite of the entire poem. And the third stanza has what I hope is obvious enough meaning, but I’m not sure about that, either. I’ll explain if you need me to.***
MELT AWAY
I do not know this word to say
Cannot explain this inner world
To beg his love to always stay
Is wrong, if it was never here.
I’d bridge the gap that grows between
But time would manage to erase
The effort, throw in disarray
All desperation gone to waste.
Like raindrops dripping from a tree
And music echoing from a drain,
Stark sunlight filtering through the shade
Attests to love alive, though slain.
I give my words in earnest hope
Then crowd them closer, try to bind
For in a room where my love stands
Noise disappears – my heart, his mind.
The 2nd Circle
Posted in Poetry at 11:28 am by thesleepingtypewriter
I am in my own bubble of void
Where there is no pain
And there is no struggle
And hardship takes its lonely self
Away from me, away from me.
And it’s quiet here, with no one to yell
It’s quiet here, with no screaming hell
Inside my head, my lonely head
A bubble of nothingness lies somewhere dead.
The end is far, and the end is near
Swaying existence, fading yet clear
Where expectations reach climax
For souls that are worthy for something.
But for bubbles of empty, they vanish like dust
And no longer must nagging be fodder for lust.
Descend to oblivion, here in my arms
Together we’ll falter, alone will I fail.
My love is in darkness, my world is in braille.
September 8, 2017
Distorted
Posted in Poetry at 10:36 am by thesleepingtypewriter
I’ve got this screaming in my head
I don’t know how else to describe it
As though I’m not even here
Just a cat in a little trash bag
I can’t even say “I’m sad” or “I’m angry”
Just withdrawn, but just a vague disconnect
The person inside me is screaming
Trapped in the blackness and dread.
Song of the moment: Model – Balanescu Quartet
August 14, 2017
Scrambled
Posted in Poetry tagged abstract, Depression, Lost, Poem, Poetry, restless, Thoughts at 4:47 pm by thesleepingtypewriter
Sadness leaking from my eyes
Shining like a lighthouse beam
It’s hard to see – don’t they realize?
I’m struggling just to breathe
This vague ‘what next?’ feeling
Pervades my every moment
Slow to react or even decide
Self-pity, pointless to vent
Give me a day off, give me a week
My brain might one day find
Correct itself, perhaps that’s me
Falling for this fantasy
Can I fix it? Do you care?
Will this pass along the vine
Give me something I can change
Or let me rest my mind.
August 9, 2017
Patch (Adams the) Madam.
Posted in Poetry tagged Depression, empathy, humanity, Pain, patches, Poem, Poetry, sympathy at 1:29 pm by thesleepingtypewriter
Falling apart
But no one cares
Rusty joints
And little tears
The edges stretched
Scarred and frayed
But sympathy
Is never paid
“Don’t let it win
Get up and fight”
Well thanks for that
Like I’d never tried
All these things
Affect you too
So why complain
It’s nothing new
Perhaps the truth?
Humanity
Isn’t built upon lost
Sanity
And patches are common
So common in fact
That caring about them
Means lacking in tact.
August 8, 2017
Morn’
Posted in Poetry tagged Fanciful, fancy, flight, Flying, Light, Morning, Poem, Poetry, silk, yellow at 1:18 pm by thesleepingtypewriter
I want to feel that pure morning light
And the dew as it seeps through my skin
The dawn as it traces a smile on my face
Cool air and fresh yellow breeze
Am I flying or gliding, just skimming the sky
My toes brushing patterns and paths in the grass
Like a smooth silk embrace and cheerful sweet taste
Let the light take your fancy and fly.
August 3, 2017
Ending.
Posted in Poetry at 1:27 pm by thesleepingtypewriter
When you wander
In the ether
Do you wonder
In a whisper
Is this normal?
Is this sane?
Did I borrow
Love in vain?
But what if we
Belie the purpose
Of this world
To pass and so –
Please, pass it on
Or pass away
Just let the past
Begin to change
Don’t you assume
That love is vain
Just let me go
And lose today.
****
. . .beyond the pen. . .
You can also find me at:
The Taste of Fire (my current book in progress)
OR
Scaling the Mountain (blog for my now published book)
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