And I stood Outside and looked back At the glitter of electric wires At the enormity of the black entrance I looked forward again, Afraid of the inside Scared of the comforts I had found peace in
And for a moment I looked at my hands Sored, blistered and cold Cold from frozen nights Trembling in fear And so, with my feet From damp floors From rugged walking distances
I keep remembering The darkness that wrapped me The silence that gave me company The walls that sheltered my head And thus, to stay away from trouble I ask of myself in freedom, ‘Which way son, The old road or the road to the cross?’
THERE WAS A TIME I found myself in your arms In them I found peace I lost my way again and again I slipped from your soft grip
I used to feel the scent of an old, sweet perfume Caress the hairy canvas over my bones I wandered away time and time And I erased your touch from my skin
Now, I reminisce of gone times That I stood staring at you lovingly Under pale shades of love Not so long ago.
I remember when I first saw you On that food truck of ice cream and candies I asked myself: How could someone be so beautiful! Deep, white eyes like egg yolk And a smile… A smile, bright like the skies of Illinois in May
For the eons we have been together I sit and think of what this life has made from two, young and wild bodies: Matrimonial rings, Innocent voices that call me ‘Da-da’ And a whole book of memories Just what I wanted; nothing more, nothing less
And so when the sun dips its head And the wind gasps to usher a nightfall, I remind myself of the lucky man I am I remind myself of our dreams I remind myself to be a good husband and father I think of us: now and forever Oh, dear Shelly What a time we had!
It has no name, that which presses weight upon her head A steer of wind, a vortex of a gloomy gorge, rough and blustery. In her genteel heart, there is emptiness, and she bears the weight of an anchor She does not seem to care, nor want to, yet she craves entirety There is a heavy stone inside her head, and she cannot bear Yet it has no name, whatever that is. I warned her, and yet in my belligerence, my words came true She did not care, ‘’After all, what does it matter to lose one soul, Millions have been lost in ages,’’ The voice from her laughter, so calming yet her eyes gave a stern glare The false conviction in her gait, her neck so high, disguising her fearfulness Hankering a little insecure girl in deep want of love and passion yet with fear of uncertainty.
She fails to make meaning of life. She breathes but does not really feel alive, she smiles but is never happy The face she wears out in the open is ripped into a forlorn and sad grimace at sunset She looks at the desire of her heart heretofore she cannot claim Her lips burn, her hair stand, and her skin tingles But she cannot allow herself to be vulnerable, her heart burns and her head pounds
The full moon comes, and the old pain of torment And the fear that she might never find what she is not looking for yet desire She is uncertain of what might be of her being alone, or of courting. A stone rests upon her heart so heavy, And on it, there is no name, no answer to her troubles Only one truth, that she is bound to suffer with every breath she takes Her duty conflicts with her heart, she knows not whether it is too late to turn back from duty and away from desire Broken, solitary, and under the scrutiny of those she much hides her feelings from And when she hears a baritone voice, her heart skips a beat Silence follows, and her soul dances, but a memory of her life’s meaning flashes, Soon, her head bows and her eyes shine, and she wants death more than the life she craves A feeling of emptiness floods her wholeness What she once felt, love, passion, happiness, and joy. Well, they are gone, and there must she remain, She cannot name what she really wants nor what she really feels, She is consumed by her own expectations, Yet it has no name, that which she endures.
But I only felt it once First, a soft touch like a pat on my shoulder And then an itch begging me to scratch Followed a boring prick that left me burning in pain and discomfort I felt my heart pounding faster and faster as the little creature steadily hummed close to my body And with its wings wafting a cool little blow as though to calm me of its own sting. I did not know where I was, and my legs could not move an inch All I knew at the instance was that I was alone and going to stop living Then suddenly I was down, and all movement stopped like an occluded car engine.
The roof of my mouth was dry, I could not swallow Every breath of hot air into my lungs robbed more water from my dry self They called it The Sting of Life, for not one of the hundreds that were stung yet drew breath. So, I gagged. First with quick successions, then slowly, I was in deep sleep ‘’It is going to be the loneliest death of all,’’ I thought I could feel air leaving my lungs and none being drawn in I could feel my heart slowly fading and beating tardily I tasted salt in my tongue, and then pepper, and then soil, and then there was darkness.
In the darkness I could see some light, and a silhouette of a woman’s figure! Oh, my joys, the joys I had nursed so warmly I felt my lips move as though to smile at her, holding a lantern to my face I could see her, but I could not see me, and her eyes widened with zeal and anticipation I wanted to speak to her, but no words came off my mouth And I wanted to touch her, and ask her where I was at She was a beauty to reckon! Here we lie, without life, for we chose not to live Because we had much shame to let live Here we lie, stung to death, losing time and chance But I would rather be here with the love that hears my skin tingling Than live a shame.
Here where we wander freely and without purpose nor expectation Here where there is darkness, but we can light a lantern to see each other Here where we were stung to.
Dunca9n 