| Melancholia |
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| Adrift Cast adrift on a sea of uncertainty i sail on with a dawning despair that i shall never find my way home... I used to hold warm visions of a hearth glowing with the embers of love... of a garden drenched with the songs of fat butterflies... of a library humming with the thoughts of dead and living philosopher-poets... of a swing that creaks with the stars as it sways to the caresses of a summer wind... I used to dream of a Beloved's warm breath tickling my nape... of his fingers dancing the tango with mine... of his whispered thoughts cocooning me into a comfortable and wakeful slumber... Now, i sail on in a sea of uncertainty, visionless and blinded by the tears of fear... That i shall never find my way ...home... |
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| i turn my head to see the streams and trickles of tears not yet my own but which in a moment i shall claim. they cannot reach the teacup with its leaves swirling with desperate heaps of sugar and cream but they chill the air and kiss my drink even before the cup's rim touches my lips... such is the rain's passion and the absence of mine... as heat dissolves in the breath of the night... as separateness occurs at dawn's intrusive light i watch the streams and trickles of tears now mine. |
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| Missing I walk this road, my pockets heavy with change left over from the price I paid for your freedom... I gaze up at the sky, my eyes stung by tears so like my own, but purer, more celestial, more deserving of weeping than mine... I open my arms, embracing Melancholy to my heart and enduring his zillion knives stabbing my wretched soul... I walk this road and I am sadly aware that my footprints are alone on the sands of my despair... I gaze up at the night sky and see nothing, like my life is a looming stretch of empty infinity... I open my arms and i get crucified by my own desire to set you free... Then, to my un-surprise, I find that my heart has gone...missing. |
| This poem, "Missing" is coming out in the anthology, Eternal Portraits, by the International Library of Poetry this year. |
| It feels good to finally let go of Melancholia. I'm just keeping this page to remind me of the lessons contained in the pain of the past. I've cried all the tears and they're gone. Now I am, finally, as one reborn! |
| Rain Sestina There in my veins they thickly drop In sanguine feints they dizzyingly fall They ravage my universe with cold passion And in my muteness I hear their cries Echoing my private storm� Raging my own lament. In the stillness of my fearsome lament You could almost hear the lightning drop Announcing the narrowed gaze of the storm Striking my roots before I fall Silencing my whimpers in its whistling cries Gleefully dancing upon my grave in reckless passion! Here in the bowels of this merciless passion I raise my drowning eyes in lament And watch the wide expanse as it cries� Letting its mighty tears drop Into the basin of my heart where they fall Owning all, even my soul�s storm� The clouds of my mind are brewing a storm, Much of what can�t be let loose in passion And in the tunnels of my vision the rains fall Marching in somber and obsyquious lament, Lifting the pall as their moist shoulders drop Into the pit of my voiceless cries. Somewhere, the child that I was, cries, Abandoned and forlorn in the thick of the storm Her dream gets trampled under her tears as they drop Dousing the flames of hope�s passion And sighing the sighs of soulful lament Where in the darkness her faithless prayers fall� Into the vortex of mindless pain I fall The vacuum absorbing my silent cries Robbing me of even my righteous lament Killing me in the heart of an absent storm Where even nothingness has passion As into dizzying hell I hurtle, I drop. The rains fall and heaven cries For every drop, I join in lament Its cold passion is my existence, my storm. |