Had I known that I kept myself on that day
Like a gift, lo, I from her and she from me
Would that I had released her, my soul to stay
Exchanged pieces we, trading strikes so ghastly

Then crawling to the bed, for death, awaiting
I did die into sleep, escaping only life
Mourning that which had perished long ‘fore the sting
Blind to the irony that death bore mounting strife

Bitter barbs like icicles borne of her voice
Stinging salt welled in my eyes, I drowned by choice

but for blue and glassy black

Adore the sea not for her force

yet for sepulchral calm and storm alike

For I love you not for shimmering smiles

but for darkness and brightness between

and dreaming simple dreams

She told me to shut out the cold

but to let in more light

But there is more to love

in dark and light alike

Despite the time spent healing in the dark
I’ll find that yes, time leaves some wounds unhealed
So the lies of comfort from caring friends
Run amok amongst the poison cure-alls

Yet completely as this piece lacks structure
The drink is but a way to forget all
Nothing more, though, was ever wanted for
As such, nothing more will ever be gained

There is no panacea for broken hearts
Time heals all wounds, so it goes, always
Another quick rap across the knuckles
Another blind evening spent so blinded

To reach out in all directions, yet still
There is no purchase where there is no strength
Not by exhaustion so profound, oh no
But mourning begot by mourning more

A senseless continuation of hope
Not hope for brightness, but for the darkness
That has so long been a comfort to me
Despite the bright lights at the edge of life

The path is not wicked or treacherous
The dangers are few and the risk is low
The rewards are plentiful and warming
The worst obstacle, the only ally

As some lights fade and others burn so bright
Pain gives way to pain, love yields to others
There is no solace to be found here, no
There is no solace in the cage you’ve made

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.