Misery Loves Company? something like that

Why is pain a place of comfort, and not joy?
Why not the peace of a warm embrace,
Or the sound of the rain outside,
While I am safe, inside, with no complaints?

I love my own company, my love for life,
For the flowers springing up
From the concrete, the birds
Singing in the trees outside my window.

Why then, when I sit
And put my pen to my thoughts,
And my thoughts to the paper,
Do I continuously choose
For misery?

Another poem about love, death and whatever is in between

A moment’s respite
From mindless melancholy
Bones barely breathing
A crushed carcass
Buried by the weight of a silent generation
The prophets that foretold
All that is known and unknown
The coming of hell on earth
A thousand years of glorious madness
So, ravenous vulture with your wings,
Nocked bow, an arrow
Pointing at my heart
Oh, it’s the excitement of love and death,
Self-hatred and pride, legacy
And oblivion
In an empty sky
Where the stars are not welcome
And the sun does not dare show its face
It is the night
That never ends
It is the night
That gives me this gift
Of a moment’s respite

Certainty: Death, Love, and Everything in Between

Late night surround sound
The city lights in my mind
Explosive thoughts, touches
Heart, body, mind, in ecstasy,
A sensory overload that leaves me
Reeling, dazed and melancholic
For days, but I chase
The high, the feeling of being
In love – in love with an unobtainable being,
A serving, a portion, an abortion of love
It had a foundation but that’s all there was
Deleted fetus turned off
By the machine, that hides
Behind clouds, doubt and indifference
All around, as my thoughts disappear
Into the loud, late night surround sound

Temporary Time

Everything is temporary:
The flower in the sidewalk,
Happiness in a rain storm,
The tears after a great loss,
Life itself.
The lack of permanence provides the value,
As if everything was forever,
What would it mean?
What would its purpose be?
But no, we get to choose
How to spend our limited time,
And with who.

That’s why I’m glad
For my temporary time with you.

Poem: silent love

Melancholy and fireworks
Shoot into the sky
Heralds of a new age
That’s neverchanging and relentless
In misery, a lack of company
Present in the dark night sky
In my mind, and in my mind’s eye
I see the end of it all
Misplaced among the vines
Thorns and gravestones
Can you see the God
In the middle of the path
Butchered and broken
It is love, so misshapen
That it becomes as silence,
Destroyed when spoken aloud
As the raindrops drop on my face
A mix of tears, confirmations
The body and blood, proof
That we have killed him
All comes crashing down
Deep into the ground
Where I lie,
And lay myself down
And I won’t make a sound

The Spiders and I

I am looking out
To a grey world
Smog, smoke and decay
The rain drops like tears
On my window, rivers
Scattered patterns that thrive
In their abstract nature
As they pass the webs
Where spiders sew and weave
Like their life depends on it
The wind constantly pushing
On their homes and mine
Is blown away, but how
Did it come to this
This desperate desperation
Drug-induced haze
Pink powder running through veins
The world looks a little less grey
The spiders are dancing
Dodging deadly droplets
Looking into my window
Multitudes of eyes and I
Look back at them
And smile

The Fall – A Short Serie of Poems

Echoes of a damaged soul

She’s sitting on the bed,
Singing her song.
I just can’t help it,
But my heart moves along
And my feet find the beat.

I see your every breath,
Every strum of your fingers
Along the strings, but it’s not the guitar
That I hear, in my heart.
It’s your voice
Echoing in my soul,
As the intricate patterns unravel
And my thoughts travel, to past patterns –
Webs of anxiety, where I am wrapped
In love and soft promises,
That branded my mind –
Marked my heart and left me.

Anxiety

Attraction makes me anxious
Getting pulled in against my will
And I don’t really know how to feel
Is it real, is it real
Or is it the same old spiel
Where I fall for someone and I can’t believe
They would be into me or believe
Our heart beats, the string instruments
Of a living symphony
It’s no Flight of the Bumblebee
Or a composition by Debussy,
No, it is just one exciting anxiety

A funny thing

Two avoidants walk into a room.
Neither one speaks,
Neither one makes a move.

Instead, they embrace each other, and their nature, with feigned yawns,
Strategic stutters, and self-explanatory mutters.

Somehow, somewhat, in some way
One explains in a particular way,
What he wanted to say –
As if it was a birth of words,
With all its contractions,
Contradictions, and a sincere lack of diction and sounds.

At last, he got the words out,
Which is when it became her turn
To try to explain in some way –
A particularly elaborate way –
Far away from each other’s gaze,
What exactly she wanted to say.

Look at them, they’ve come such a long way.
I wonder what someone with a different perspective might say.

“Two avoidants walked into a room.
Neither one speaks.
Neither one leaves,
As they both have a crippling fear of abandonment.”

Us, the looking glass

Crystallise the love to keep it intact.
It’s a frightful transparancy,
To breathe life into a feeling
By giving it a voice,
In your presence.

We’re made of glass, the melted sands
Of all our past failures, victories,
Sins, and the lovers we have been.

Crystallise our love, my dear.
Our hearts are so clear in their desire,
As they burn and shake themselves apart
In an anticipation for past pessimism.

But, oh, the sands of the hourglass keep falling,
Day in, day out,
And I find myself in their midst,
Falling for you.

I want you to know

I kissed you in the snow,
And I didn’t want to go home
To an empty bed.

Hours earlier, we watched the sun set
As I told you stories,
While you rested your head on my chest.

I wonder if you could hear my heart beat,
Mere centimeters from your ear.
I wonder if you could hear it skip a beat
Whenever you laughed, squeezed my arm,
Or poked me in the side.
I wonder if you could hear my stomach
Digest the fact that there seems to be an increase in the amount of butterflies spotted, this week.

What a strange natural phenomenon –
To act on and subsequently reflect on,
Days later when

I kissed you in the snow,
Because I wanted you to know
That these feelings are real
And that this is the way that I feel.

I don’t want anything else,
Or someone new.
When we kissed,
You found me,
And I found you.

Resolve

What a day it was
A killing breeze reigned
Across frozen waters and lakes
A high moon in a cancer ridden sky

The sun hid in dark alcoves 
Caves and the wanderers of the wastelands
Covered in coveted lies
Truths and unknown impossibilities 

The septum of irreverence 
The eye in the midst of it all
An omnipotent god of nothing
An impotent snail in a water trough
Climbing up the sides 
A trail of desolation 
Smoke in the hives and honey
Stolen by kings and queens

Sweet ignorance where art thou
Awareness kills the element of surprise
Joy escapes the violence 
A butterfly in a wartorn hellscape 

The end of it all
As sleep succumbs to existence