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 YOU WILL NEVER KNOW
 

How does one meet another?

Flowers bloom, but in what way?

Why does the breath stop with a gasp?

How do we find a way together?

How do we know what to say?

In what language do we love? You will never know.  

 

When we meet do we find peace?

Is there madness when we part?

What is beauty's magic spell?

How does love in secret grow?

You, obsessed by good advice, full of wisdom in your heart,

What path do seeking souls stray? You will never know.  

 

How are festering wounds produced?

Why do scars burn in the heat?

How does anybody weep?

How does pain its torment show?

Lamentations, tears, moans?

 How are cries from anguish born? You will never know.

 

What do aimless wanderers do to pass their days and nights away?

How do they live their lives?

Where do they go, where do they die?

What in grief is loneliness and desolation?

Can you say?

What meaning holds a restless life? You will never know.  

 

Yes, you have a taste for verse, a great respect for prosody.

You see it as a social grace, a fine adornment meant for show.

You pick your letters, and you hear the words but only the words,

What is said between the lines........ you will never know.    

 

Posted by soulsearcher at 2:58 AM - 14 Comments   Add a Comment  
 

 YOUR NAME
 

A poem

Entangled in my chest

Lines

 Fastened on my lips

 Words

Like butterflies

 Wont sit still on paper

 I sit

For so long

With your name

On this blank paper

Your name…. …could there be

A better poem?

Posted by soulsearcher at 10:15 AM - 10 Comments   Add a Comment  
 

 DOWN A LANE ON A MURKY HOUR
 

 
A repost for someone who wants to read more of my thoughts:
 
I do not know what is greater –

The pain you caused me

The embarrassed emotions, deep anguish

Or the torture that torments me within

As I walk past the dull frescos

On the walls of my mind.

 

Shifting lights I have watched

At the drift of emphasis

In the host of memories –

The bright, the luminous

Turn into blurred images

The dark uneasy emotions

Tease me like a specter

Seeking me in a nightmare.

 

To know where I am

Will be blissful calm

Would know whom to blame

Or to withdraw my claim

To those eager closed eyes.

 

It is the twilight hour -

That sudden encounter

As if shaken out of sleep,

I know not the hour of the day,

Can’t tell the dawn from dusk.

There is only to wait and watch

The next hour alone will spell

The dazzling delight of a day

Or the anguished darkness

On the vast sheet of space

 

I run into an unceasing dialogue,

Straining hard to shut my ears

To the clamoring demands of ego.

I squirm uneasy at words of feeling

My agony turns immune to all healing

For I keep staring into the distant land

There is neither utterance

Nor a single vision, not a glimpse of you.

 

It was a shining sequence

Of sudden moments, warm hours of winter,

Of quiet sittings, whispered nothings,

Sharing feelings, reactions, moods.

The choked tears of stifled emotions.

Like a tree,

It all grew slow.

 

When we met, it was just in time:

Nothing bloomed sudden, out of season

The greetings and the partings lacked

The passionate pull down in the heart

The leaping flux of vibrant emotions

Never drove us into intimate raptures.

 

The ultimate terms emerged

Like the seeds that burst open

Shoot out twigs and tender leaves

Above the warm bosom of the earth –

We saw and we discovered.

 

Each new leaf filled us with mirth

It grew and spread wide

In the vacant spaces

Into dreams and reveries:

Reveling in the very presence of thought

Seeking desires in dreams

Finding hints like links in a chain.

 

The vital urge in the unconscious

Drove us to each other

An aroma hung in the air

A curious feeling kept gnawing inside

Hours before we’d suddenly meet 

Unannounced yet foreseen –

Dreamt or teased by intuition

Caressed by feeling unawares

Like the sudden soft breeze.

 

And then in a dark lane

On a murky hour after sunset

It became all too plain:

Your words, it seemed to me,

Wriggled out gasping

We were to call it quits

The reasons are useless

Like splinters flying about

As the hammer falls on a rock

A block of stone.

Relationships are chiseled

Given shapes that all can name

Recognize trees in landscapes

Eyes lips hands

Drawn clear in a portrait.

 

Perhaps we two had tried

To draw an abstract

On the well-defined canvas

Of our deep relationship

 

So one day down a lane

On a murky hour

It seemed clear and sane

The canvas was rather short

The portrait stretched hands

A foot extended into a stride

You wheeled out the grinding words:

Let’s abandon the canvas.

 

 

  
Posted by soulsearcher at 8:50 AM - 10 Comments   Add a Comment  
 
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Age: 36
 
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