Frightening the rescuers with fervor.

Creating new regrets,
and sending them out into the world.
Even the good intentions go sour,
swept up in the landslide.

I had such high hopes.

A helping hand,
I would grasp so tightly,
I'm not sure I could even let go again.

The year of darkness

Missing you,
The light in my life.

With so much time alone to think,
I go to all the dark places,
And can't find my way out again.

The night is never ending,
Without hope,
I'm drowning in it.

I count the days,
Until the close,
Of the longest year of my life.

Let it be done,
And the sun will rise again.

Thank you, for doing what you do.

Thank you,
for being there when you're needed,
when others aren't.

Thank you,
for being who you are,
a paragon,
an example.

Thank you,
for doing what you do,
for doing what you did.

End of a dream

The moment is gone.

The safe haven in the winter of demons,
the fire that stopped my heart freezing over,
the torch in the never-ending night of sorrow,
that was you.

You were there,
and I, a moth to your flame,
hypnotised by your light,
I'd follow you anywhere.

The dreams I had.

But now you're gone.
To where I daren't tread.
A closed door. A wall. An impassable chasm.

I wasn't ready to let you go yet.

I feel like,
I missed another Life,
a life that's full of light.
But it was never really mine,
it belongs to someone else.

Though the winter is over,
and morning broken,
I'm still not there.

All I can do,
is wish you well.
And I do.
I wish you all your dreams,
and love,
I wish you love.

As you wish

Although I said
I would do anything you ask,
Truth is,
I submit my will to no one.

But ask away.
The odds are in your favour,
Today.

Gravity

I passed the end of the rope
some time ago
and now I'm just hanging in mid air
waiting for gravity to kick in

Adherents of the repeating meme

Certainty is gone,
what is real?

I thought I was writing the story,
until I found the book of my life,
and the factory mould,
for people like us.

god, it was eerily accurate.

For fuck's sake, what is real?

The Diamond

You have many facets,

like a precious jewel.

 

Light shines from you,

and, as through a prism,

is made more beautiful.

 

I glory in the radiance,

and fear it will expose my flaws.

The next puzzle

And then,
you realise what it all means.

Oh, but I've been so blind!
So, now what to do about it?

Solve a puzzle,
and there's another one behind it.

The fun never ends.

Let it go

Logistically,
impossible.
It just doesn't fit.

A study in contrasts,
and impossible to decipher.
Mad to even think about it.

If it's hate,
or if it's love,
it matters not a bit.

It's not even clear at all,
where one starts or where it ends,
there's just no making sense of it.

Yet, given this...
it's still so damn enchanting,
I just cannot let go of it.

Hope

It comes and goes,
from outside and within.
Does it make the world spin?
Probably not,
but without it,
its turning matters not at all.

Silver lies

Shattered hopes,
and nothing left to cling to.

The lies so easily
dripped from your silver tongue,
I wonder if you even know
what you've done.

It's all lost for us now.

Never now

Always tomorrow,
never now.

Another promise that doesn't come true,
another dream which wasn't for you,
another plan that never happens,
another hope that doesn't matter.

It's always tomorrow,
and never now.

Duty

Duty comes first,
and there are so many of them,
they never end.

Too many conflicts;
which are paramount,
these or this?

Keep it all going,
don't let it drop,
let no one down,
but then,
there isn't any choice.

Duty comes first,
and there isn't any time,
for anything else.

Fill me with Rage

It's good to be reminded,
now and then,
why you should be angry.

See the world in its ideal form,
and keep a white hot ball of rage
burning inside of you,
to make it happen.

Complacency,
the enemy of propriety,
the pathway to failure.

oops

In the moment
it's always hard to remember
what you're meant
not to do.

Blown it again
and back tracking fast.

Always on the edge of the cliff
wondering whether to jump
or fly.

One day it will be too late.

Spring storms

It's wicked fierce tonight,
outside and in.

I listen to the wind as it tears apart the trees,
their branches lashing out in the darkness,
striking everything in reach with devastating blows.
The debris becomes a hail of whirling missiles,
spinning through the night.

Rain thunders against the steel roof,
overwhelming the gutters,
falling in cascading streams that swirl,
washing away the earth,
uprooting and drowning the spring flowers before they bloom.

Lightning cleaves the sky,
the house shudders with the force.

Ah, but it's so peaceful out there compared to how it is in here.
I long for that kind of peace.

Love, love, love, love

Well

It certainly has been
Interesting Times
and, well,
what to make of it all?

Somehow my tolerance has held,
past the limits of reasonableness,
and pushing through the boundaries of miracles.
It hangs by the finest thread.

It’s a trap

Stuck-fast in a trap.

If I abandoned everything,
I could be free.
Could I have a better life?
If I wasn’t me.

Regular problems

It would be nice
just to deal with regular problems
once in a while.

Every day
a fight with futility,
a failure.
Entropy beckons.

Am I less than I was before?
Or am I more?

Take the truth

Take the truth
and make it yours.

Take the blows,
and take the shame.
Take the heartache,
and take the pain.

Take it,
look upon its face,
restore it to its proper place,
what’s done is done,
we start again.

Shadow

You,
my shadow.

Funny how
your two dimensional form
has more depth and meaning
than all of my existence.

No star birthed me.

This machine

How does it feel?
To sit atop the world,
in all its beauty and ugliness?

This machine
can’t compute that.
This machine
can’t turn your money into anything good.



this poem is part of a series including http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/error-redo-from-start.html and http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/mechanics.html

Error; redo from start

What other machines may break;
This machine will make
a few.
What this machine may take;
for others’ sake,
it will give some too.

This machine,
can make mistakes.
This machine,
can make dreams come true.

This machine,
can make mistakes.
Error; redo from start.



this poem is part of a series including http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/this-machine.html and http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/mechanics.html

Mechanics

So many mechanics
to make life a little better.
So many mechanics
to make this machine work.

Who we lean on.
Who we call on.
Who we bleed on.

This machine,
a mechanic too.



this poem is part of a series including http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/this-machine.html and http://agoodatheist.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/error-redo-from-start.html

Butterfly Words

With my pen,
I pin
my thoughts and feelings,
as butterfly words,
to the page.
Stab them,
one by one,
and hold them fast;
to better understand
the shades of meaning
on their wings.