Longing Fear

_

I woke to the beginning
It started in my sleep
My eyes opened to the sound
Of screaming on the streets

I lie there for one moment
Push clouds from my head
Wish that I was dreaming
And I would wake inside my bed

The sounds went on in horror
The clash was very clear
I sat up and peered out the window
The war was finally here

No time to take cover
Or time to get dressed
Make haste was the only answer
While I planned the moments ahead

I wanted to much to scream
For them all to give in and stop
But running out the doorway
Was the only way to go on

Down the stairs I encountered
Something my eyes could only stare
Looking back at me was my twin, my self
Looking with a glare

Could this be a dream?
Could this be for real?
Can I stand there and stare back at me
And survive this longing fear?

_

lost inside my head

i am lost inside my head,
this headstrong heartache of an impatient depth charge.
i hear the things that no one hears,
i know the things no one ever will.

i am insane. i am insanity.
call me loose, i call it beauty.
call me strange, i call it gift.
i am creation. i am death.

strip you of your being,
i know what's underneath.
the twists, the voices,
the roads, the words.

conceptual deprivation of all things great,
love, sex, religion, being.
scare myself awake, scare myself alive.
moments of understanding, epiphany of the great.

conceptual understanding, perfect reasoning.
horrifying truths.
consensual connection to the answer.
riddle me this: a maker of what, who? the maker’s maker?

believe in not, and you shall see.
believe in not, and you will receive.
open your mind’s eye and tap your illusions, delusions
become truths, and ideas are robust in flavor and description.

but only for one second…

but only for an eternity…

differentiate the two,

or are they one...


-Originally written 3March03


*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.

_

Sometimes simple…

…is the best way;
I love you
I want you
I miss you
…is all we should say.



*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.

_

The Cold

It’s cold, very cold,
snow’s falling faster than fast.
Ice is building atop the bridge,
not slower than the last.

My breath is cloudy
as it floats through the air.
My ears are red,
fingers frozen when bare.

I don’t like this feeling,
these feelings from past.
We’ve done this before;
though this seems to be our last.

My heart is breaking
yours is frozen and feisty.
Mine won’t stop aching
it seems you don’t like me.

We’ve been here before
not long in the past.
This isn’t the same though,
I know it’s our last.

Your stare is chilling,
right to the bone.
Your smile is cold,
and so is your tone.

It’s cold in here,
snow’s falling faster than fast.
Your ice starts toppling,
our bridge begins to crash.


*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.
_

Standing on the edge

I look down, standing on the edge.
With cool breeze brushing my skin,
I close my eyes and clear my mind.

I lift up my arms from my sides.
With body shaped like a ‘T’,
I breathe in deep.

My senses heightened.
The sweet smell of flowers,
and waves crashing consume me.

I raise onto my toes.
Butterflies form in my stomach,
my nerves begin to swarm, and I wait.

I open my eyes to the ground below me.
I can finally see clearly,
this world is for me.

I rest my heels firmly on the ground.
My body relaxes,
my nerves slow down.

I struggle to step back.
My mind urges me to stay,
but my heart fights me from the edge.

I am safe again.
I will live to see another day.



*Note: the "I" in this poem is not me. Although this can be interpreted as thoughts of suicide, these thoughts are not my own.

*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.
_

With Yellow Sympathy

Embark! To win!
Return! Succeed!

It yelled and it screamed
It bellowed with greed
It sang its battle tune
And of yellow sympathy

(With ravage and rage,
it WILL see another day)

With bellows of greed
With desire and need
The big horns a’glare
“To battle with speed”

By hands or on knees
The battle proceeds
Flames in the air
“Our home land’s in despair”

For land, they fight
For families, show might
Its resources they need
Not simply their greed

They cut and they battle
Overcome with their might
Refuse to give up
This is their fight

The dust then settles
With life on their side
Raised hands in air
They roar and they sigh

The march begins home
As townsmen reap & sow
They finally get inside
And look back with worried pride

Once inside
They silently cry:
“Our need and our greed,
with yellow sympathy”


*Note: Visit One Stop - Where Poets and Writers Meet and their One Shot Wednesday for poems & stories from others.


_

He went to save the world

On my way to University, I thought I would be able to solve the world’s problems.
I thought to myself: yes, yes I can do that. I cannot wait. I just know I can.

I got to my room and started my studies soon after my arrival.
Philosophy and psychology, physics and astronomy, those were the subject I came to learn.

Sir Stephen Hawking has always been an inspiration.
Mr. Albert Einstein and Mr. Richard Feynman were both inspirations, too.
Mr. Sigmund Freud, I didn’t have much taste for, but Mr. Pavlov certainly inspired.
And especially Dr. Michio Kaku, I hoped to shake his hand one day.

One night, late after my studies, I settled in to solve the problems.
Paper on my desk, ready as can be.
Pencil sharpened, also as ready as can be.

I sat and I pondered, I sat and I waited, I sat and I struggled…
Just to put only a few words on the page.

What was I to solve? What problem should I tackle?
How can I help the world first and foremost?

Unfortunately, nothing came to mind; no ideas, no thoughts, no inklings of anything.
But I know I can do this, I just know that I can.
Why aren’t I yet solving the greater issues of man?
After three hours I closed my eyes: I’ll return to this later, when I am more wise.

As the days went on and classes grew long, Fall turned to Winter, and Spring soon called.
I continued in my chair – my desk was worn, my elbows sore, but my pencil’s still sharp, and ready as a spear.

“I got it!” I exclaimed. I knew right where to start.
“I’ll show them” I told myself, as my mind began to spark.
I was embarking on a journey that would save us all,
and onto the paper I quickly wrote:

“We must love one another and give respect to all.”

_