The, Lost, Last, Love
In a pit of despondency I stand
Rain pouring down, dirt in my hand,
Yet through the chaos I see what is true,
The opportunity gone, and so are you.
Friends are we to be for eternity,
Yet other than that you will never see.
The fire never quenched by the rain,
Water from heaven, spreads the searing pain.
Long to linger on your every word,
Yet you will never hear my thoughts inferred.
Ending such sweet sorrow,
Caring words of old foresee tomorrow.
Know me, see me,
Stay here, believe me.
Turn to me in times of need,
Replenish my soul with a seed.
Of love this seed to grow into,
Made to be to you see through.
Grown to life by your design,
All is lost without this sign.

by yours truly, the hopeless romantic


this next poem i wrote some time last year, but i'm going through and cleaning through and republishing all the poems i've ever put on here. (that first one is new)

THE FIRE OF MY LIFE

A blazing fire of brilliance burning bright,
i wonder if warmth comes with the welcoming light.
breathing, living, giving,
when near, the world is spinning.
flaxen flame of splendor,
if touched will render,
one paralyzed, tantalized, taunted.
probably haunted.
terrified for years,
but without any fears.

oh the beauty of green,
how you make me scream;
as you look throughout the world,
causing pain and sorrow,
but love tomorrow.

i tried to touch the fire,
and in that desire,
found a pit of sorrow,
they say it will heal tomorrow.
but i know the answer,
or is it the cancer.
which eats at my soul,
should i stay or should i go?

i tried to look into the eyes of green,
and realized that i could not,
would not be supreme.
wild and daring the green was addictive,
oh if only i could be more descriptive.

i was burned by fiery red of head,
and gazed into sight all green.
and have lost the battle,
unhelpably rattled,
the two houses of the soul are fighting,
and the outcome will be enlightening,
until it is ended,
my friends i cannot say,
whether my my life will be amended.


DENHAMS DENTRIFICE

I'm holding the shovel,
it's breaking the dirt.
Digging faster, harder, sweat flowing.
digging dirt, digging clay, digging rock.
Pick axe, digging, digging.
I look up and it's my own grave,
I keep digging, faster, faster,
the ground is cool,
reassuring around me,
it is hot in the shade of the earth.
Digging, digging, kneeling, mourning,
digging, for the life that was lost.
digging, 1 feet, 2 feet, 3 feet, 4 feet 5 feet,
the farther i dig the harder it is to climb out,
yet i keep digging, digging 6 feet.
the digging is done.
The box is dropped on top of me, 1
crushing in it's despairity.
I do nothing but fall into the coffin from the outside,
mourning the lost life.
burying, burying,
sealing the fate of ignorance in knowledge.
It is impossible to know.
life uses tools that only it can work.
burying, burying, dirt, death, durge.
silence, it's over.


Children’s Wine
Pictures of laughing people.
Parties in the yard.

It was blisteringly hot then,
The heat is like a talkative neighbor,
Better if ignored, and they did.
But nobody seemed to notice.

Especially the kids playing in the pool.
Not a real pool, mind you,
but one of those cheap plastic kiddie pools
They aren’t much bigger than a bathtub,
But nobody seemed to notice.

The water was filled with little floating spears of grass,
from kids running around, chasing each other,
and jumping into the delightfully cold water.
That grass, dry and itchy due to the drought.
But nobody seemed to notice.

They said it was the biggest drought in years.
But it’s West Texas… when is there not a drought?
The water was so cool and welcoming.
It’s hard to believe that it came out of the desert,
Where the dust blows and the sage is high.
The desert was everywhere.
But nobody seemed to notice

How could a kid resist the urge to jump into that blissful bath of children’s wine?
That’s how I thought of pool water back then.
There was something about it that grown ups just couldn’t grasp.
On a hot day a child would jump into a pool,
even with his Sunday best
if his parents weren’t around.

How could he not jump in?
With the water so cool and welcoming.

Children around water have this youthful delight
that is the spotlight,
sending out its hopeful beacon to the ships in the storm.

Children are the wisest of us all,
It matters not if your homework is late,
It matters not that the bills aren’t getting paid
Ignorance is bliss.
Childhood is the celebration of ignorance


and then for good measure-
zach is back in the shack,
and no this is not a hack.
i'm just a regular jack,
or should i say zach.
who's down with the facts.
I feel like a snack.
i wonder what there is to eat in the shack.
this is the story of the zach shack
i think i'll hit the sack



  posted by Unknown @ 9:02 ip.