Poems: 030213 - February 3rd, 2013

[Robert Morpheal]

030213A
------------

When you walked away,
never to come back,
it was an ice pick moment
entering my brain.

You were only another assassin,
and all I ever seem to meet
are skilled assassins,
each testing their weapons.

I was the would be revolutionary,
wanting to lead a cultural coup d’etat,
toppling boredom from its pedestal.

We were only a pair of smiles
that never really broke the ice.
Our moment another brick in the wall
that I keep struggling to tear down.

You joined a long line,
of those who never understood me,
leaving me to more of the same loneliness.

----------------------------------------------------

030213B
------------

There is the sermon on the mount,
and there is the sermon from the abyss,
but in the end it does not matter which.

The battle still rages on the other side of this,
at the turn of every page of each sad story.
Nothing is won, and more for the losing.

You never really got to know me,
and you never really wanted me to know you.
You believed in something more than that.

I never knew where you were coming from,
you reserved that for more handsome men.
The type who prefer any tedious sort of duty.

You got away from me, the way I always let go.
Everyone always wanting something different.
Leaving me the last straw in the haystack.

You made me feel like rolling in the mud,
as if that might make me look more common.
Something that you might really want.

I washed myself off, making absolutely certain,
to remove all the stains you left on my mind,
and went on to look for something different.

------------------------------------------------------

030213C
-----------

They told you I am only a waste of your time,
and there is little doubt that you believed them.
It was something that made you feel more free.

It made me serve a kind of purpose,
in making you more of what you really are,
even though you had no other use for me.

I was merely another prescription,
taken as directed, a little dose,
with its predictable side effects until finished.

Life usually takes more than it gives,
and I never found a way to give enough,
to please any of the takers who came my way.

I do not know anyone who is similar to you,
and I know of no one similar to me,
making me feel I am the joker in the pack.

You made me another of your losers, baby,
and I hope it stroked your broken ego,
because everything has to serve a higher purpose.

------------------------------------------------------------


030213D
------------

I tried to tell you
but you wouldn’t hear a word
of anything that I would say.
The decision was always made
the way the script comes
before the play.

You only glanced at the surface,
never testing the depths,
and I doubt that you saw anything there
that was anything more than yourself.
Never knew what I wanted,
never cared what I could become.

It makes me another type of prisoner,
unable to think of anything but escape,
tired of dancing with myself,
and strangers’ voices teasing my fate.
Nothing matches, and maybe it never will,
it simply isn’t what I can ever find within.

I am trying to get away, with nowhere to go.
You wrote me off as if I was a bad investment,
and in the state that you left me, I surely was.
Whatever I have done, I have done alone,
and that never makes a big impression.

I am a random solicitation,
and you were looking for someone famous.
Now I find no personal letters in my mailbox,
and everyone likes to forget the name,
of a social astronomer constrained to that past.

Those minuscule hints of lost illumination
tend to occur at stellar special occasions.
Diminutive commemorations of what never really happened.
Ritual visitations with no further implications.
A submerged face pressed against a sheet of ice.

Losing time, and having lost the meaning,
there is the restless spirit, that knows no peace.
The dark becomes the same as the light,
and the light becomes the same as the dark,
until it all turns into the same shade of black.

I was hopeful of something closer,
but it always ends up being further away.
Worn out by the maze with no exit,
knowing little more than false rumors of someone,
lurking around every blind corner.

------------------------------------------