Monday, March 19, 2012
Enough of this meaningless content!
These verses written on a whim
Without review, in desperation,
These poems written about nothing,
But with confusion
So that there is no hope of finding emotion through the emotion of confusion.
These meaningless, random words
Shame these pages, burn the eyes
Of the people who brave the fluttering, insubstatial leaves
Of rhymes with half-rhythms.
Enough of saying nothing but that cursed confusion!
Wasting words precious as water in a desert
On trees that will not bear fruit, now or ever
Wasting them on the confusion in my mind
Trying to express inexpliquable terror
Trying to express the depression in my chest
Trying to express the desperation in my heart
Trying to express the inequality of my verses
All to people who see for enjoyment
Who are of no mind to sort out the dark
The overlay of despair I recall
When I recall the poetry it created.
No more can I stand
No more can I see
For the confusion
The accursed confusion,
The accursed confusion leaving everything unresolved
Everything unresolved in everything.
I love the details
The dents in the snow
Where the water dripped,
The gold rings in your eyes,
I love the details,
The little things
No one notices,
But I do.
And you do.
We can see
The little details.
We can see.
We can see each other.
We can see our world.
We can observe,
We can watch,
We can find the details.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Sleep has stopped feeling restful.
Music has stopped being appreciable.
Pain has stopped hurting.
Joy has stopped being enjoyable.
The time passes by unnoticed.
The people pass by unnoticed.
My head hurts.
My eyes hurt.
My mind hurts.
My ears hurt.
My mouth hurts.
Everything has become nothing to me.
The colour has faded away.
And I am colourless.
Colourless once again.
The rainbows have turned to black and grey.