lithedark

Sometimes the lights are too bright and you just want the soothing darkness.

Sometimes emotions have run too wild. Sometimes you’ve gone from a low place to a high place; you’ve taken an euphoric trip so quickly that your head spins.

Standing now in the dark with only a bit of cord to tether me to my love, Penelope, I look around and place myself outside the beauty of the night. A stranger looking in, perhaps, or an omniscient yet powerless observer. It’s this sort of experience where one leaves themselves behind and contemplates life from an outer consciousness. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense at all to you.

When I look back at the things I have felt, said, or written, I look down, back, or even up at someone who I am not. Between these great moments of clarity is the light. This light feels so bright when I can see so much more that it feels blinding. However, without this light I could not appreciate the darkness. My life progresses in a dreamlike fashion where I act on whims until something tears me so fully from myself that I have to look back and merely observe for a moment.

Recently, there’s a new sort of light that has come into my life. The same sort of murky, clouded light, but promising a more complete view, or at least a more complimentary one. It’s amusing to think that I might chase something that will bring me so much emotion yet again. A dear friend of mine played a song upon his guitar tonight and it riled my muse; not for poetry, but she stole me away to force me to look again at everything.

“Here we are at the beginning”, I say. “This is where it all starts. From here we are blind.”

My muse laughs and I resent her.

One year ago we stand, side by side, looking out
At a place not so far but so bright, yet without
Noticing the shadow creeping, creeping behind
Threatening our way of life, our niche in time

Now we look back, bright skies for one, all else is dark
The gray has slain us, dried up our hearts, left a mark
The dreadful dreaded death that lurks above, poised
Yet already its mark is felt, obscured by noise

As I sink and feel the sinking feeling nearing
She looks back in guilt and pain, not loving, fearing
Driven off by emotions’ demons, they drag her
Smiling and sobbing, rescued and destroyed, to love

I lay awake and stare upon the backs of eyelids
Curtains drawn, the bright lights pierce the sombre dark
And yet fierce, the biting brights that haunt my nights
They creep the walls like slender spikes, climbing
Vining, snaking, twining, reaching nightmare heights
Somewhere the din of soft voices, rumbles laughter
Perhaps, yet torn asunder, my dark world dark after
Pierced by callous motions ever hereafter

Finding myself lost after some time being found. Whether here, or not here, or depressed, or elated; whether active or inactive, reactive or proactive; whether yearning and begging, pleading, or turning, treading; making a place to lie or a place to lay, to sleep, to dwell. Here I am now, here.

Sinious shifting silhouettes
That move as life and cause regret
As soon as passion starts to grow
Pain becomes life’s epithet

Promises are made to show
The endless line of love’s own flow
But even now the sunlight fades
And brings upon a bout of woe

Life goes on, loves turn to shades
Amorous feelings gone to jade
For even as the trial starts
Rejection tempers burning hearts

I like this one; I wrote it in highschool English class. I remember my hands shaking furiously. I had such trouble. Thanks for reading.

Twist my soul around little finger
Turn about now and let looks linger
Hold something dear in heart so far
Just shatter thoughts, oh chaos bringer

Empty mind and empty soul
Onto my platter, for thats your goal
Stifling pain amongst yourselves
But make sure mine is born in full

Loving, loving, means nothing now
You foolish girl, you stubborn sow
You cry in pain and take the gain
But hurt’s not something I’ll allow

Something more is hidden deeper
Under heart’s thick vine and creeper
But just as wishes pour so free
I’ll no longer be your keeper

I don’t begrudge you what you want
Assuming you can be up front
But you’ll not stop me from my game
It’s for to be alone, I hunt

To seek and strive yet just held back
Your need is like a bit of tack
Just driven through my heart so well
I cannot fight the pain it packs

Show me once and tell me never
What I’ll have for these endeavors
Withstanding all your foolishness
Just searching life for something clever

I had no idea that this form was called Ruba’i when I used it. I was also ignorant of its origins. Silly me. Thanks for reading.

Don’t stand alone and stand within,
Oh children that you are;
Don’t hide inside your high-walled pen,
Stop watching from afar.

People don’t have answers, see
To the questions that you ask;
Treat life as it was meant to be,
Find answers as your task.

Ending up in holes of hate,
You block out all the light;
Tend feelings now for as of late,
Your bonds are growing tight.

Oh children, don’t you hide from truth
Use painful life as love’s own proof.

Making rhymes a world apart
They’re torn so fast from poet’s heart
I sit and dream away the days
And plot my diction driven art
Penning phrase with which I part
Create a boxing wordy maze

I struggle seeing through the haze
Of choppy words that seem to faze
My sense of artist’s urgency
To put down words in many ways
Writing just to quell the blaze
And set these captive words so free

But as I free these words of me
A sense of dire need to flee
This art that mends the holes in soul
And gives me reason just to be
Not friend of verse nor enemy
But just a slave to poem’s toll

To sit at night and chase your thoughts
Regret your past and goals you’ve sought
And seek to understand your life
With angst filled poems of your strife

You mock the art with common prose
Write poems of the bloody rows
That roll down arms and seem to shout
A cry of help to pick you out

You throw about such genius words
To try and stand out from the herd
But when you turn around and look
It seems your friends have read your book

They stand around and cause their pain
To steal your guarded looks again
They loathe themselves from head to toe
And, oh! Do they put on a show

Attention seeking human leeches
Sucking life and surely each-is
Doomed to go home to their life
As normal as are yours and mine

Burning lights and burning rights
That singe my eyes and ruin nights
And tear apart the starry skies
Because of horrid imaged lies

Nightmares borne from dreams of hate
Of leading loves toward ghastly fate
To make a point to break my soul
And punch a hole in living’s lull

Sleeping each eve with the lights
Terror-trained through sleepless nights
The mocking bright and glaring hiss
Parade each night til sunlight’s bliss

Sing a simple sonnet, tell a shaking tale,
Don’t stop keeping on it, life grows deathly pale.

Beauty isn’t hard to see, if one knows where to look.
That’s the part that frightens me, the pages in this book.

The heavens sing forever, so listen to their song,
As passions must endeavor, but also grow so strong.

Turn around and take a glance, but not so long to miss your chance.

Always the couplets, whether aabb or abab. Thanks for reading.