by F. Velasquez
alas the joy i once did seek is never to be found, there is nothing but faining echos in my mind
nothing but the empty soil to welcome be and bid me sleep, no one to turn to to cry with,
dejected, lost, alone. wayward and dumfounded at all there's left unseen, but the unseen is where i look
there is where home can be found, unseen and unbegotten, adrift on a sea of black tar, rivers of red flow from the vessle and the light goes out again
her smiles are so blasphemous
she is a deciever
-a destroyer
like the preying matis
-devouring her lover after they mate
she holds such underlaying evil in her soul
but i want her still
i suffer from a dissatisfaction with all that i do
and i fear that my expansive vocabulary is only a cover that makes me feel like i am not simple
for being simple, though it would be blissful, is quite possibley what i fear most in life
why must i think in darkness?
where have my musings of happiness gone?
is there a bright puddle of it there,
underneath that dejected bum?
like so much glistening urine stinking of hope?
or is it lost inside of me never to return?
she was my sunlight
now turned black
she was my warm blanket on a winter's day
now icecold and painful to the touch
she was my hope for all things lovely on earth
but now she is the silence that reaches me still
from miles away
laxidaisy Sunday afternoons...
untill dusk arives
bringing the gift of a gripping fear of another week to come
and the undreamt anxiety of another Monday
looms overhead
there's an emptiness inside my soul
like that of someone who's lost their faith
the problem is i never had much faith to begin with
you were what i had to belive in
and now,
my soul has a hole where the goodness should be
the desperation wains by the day,
but i always think of you
the yerning to hold you subsides by and by,
but i will always love you
err... poems page 2