Silence Never Shouts

On the peripheral
Empty sea
Even though
One sob in seven shouts
The beat of red is rather rough
From high with broken edges
The thorns that pierce into her scorn

She is sending shots of black hateful earth to shattering ears
The lamps of her eyes have gone dim

Even though it is clear
Darkshore crashing and vibrating into the hours
A lot of hurt like disaster

To soothe her,

I want to nurse her secret
that sinks into mud
Outside of the pain
on the hood erupting

There is no happiness

coopyrighted 2009

Sadness at My Door

The colors in the morning
when sad music plays
I see young faces of the rich becoming poor
My life loses laughter
My chest grows outward
Perhaps one day I will write a song of good nights and good mornings
as sadness sits outside my door


Copyrighted 2009

Delight

It gave me delight to be sad;

The delight - what I found wasn't the truth;

It orphaned me from my family.

My family never received me with care.

The delight is now hanging sadness in an empty room


Copyrighted 2009

Maybe A First Sad Poem

Maybe the first sad poem
is quite simple
wanting to be loved
wanting to be held
wanting

before and after
is the only way.

To open the book
each of us knows
the pain is
poignant.

It is a sad poem -
Too alive!

A bad burden
in the bedroom -
to bear and carry;
each of us knows.
Alone we can't give;

Each answer
has a different answer.
These sad poems
sad stories
to be told
to come closer
these days.

the first promise of pain -
maybe you can give me your pain
when we are facing countless forevers -
a first sad poem


Copyrighted 2009

A Face in the Reality of Tears

It took, my tears;
It kept me - a familiar notion;
So on and on.

It took, it fell;
its flight still born;
alive.

Still its life -
hours;
in the afternoon, in the evening
unable to be more,
very busy the feeling on my face.

Drops heavy and heavier;
it would be put on my cheeks;
at the end,
many years after;
of asking why -

relative pieces of human love would listen.


Copyrighted 2009

My Angst

My Angst

My angst -

Children and men
From my ankles to my heart
The snapping and the fizz within my chest
The feeling grows outward into an empty -
The feeling again

Not because my bed is empty
Not because I discovered hate and it moves along my knees and my feet
Not because when I cry alone I feel left instead of right
Not because I want to fill my days with the cha-ching of falling money

Because when I step to death
All is a mess

Of he is..of she is…of we are
It spills into my crashing heart

The angst that fills it –
It falls like the swish of a leaf



Copyrighted 2009

Emptiness

Then there is drinking:
it's emptiness fascinates -
all the nobodys begin to cry.

For what it seems to a weariness of an extinguished candle;
The nothingness in the cup - it already exist;
Like crazy people - beginning to cry.


What is it - but a pale ghost in my invisible coffee.


Copyrighted 2009

Sad Identity

Those sad footsteps into a pile of grass
Plain clothes enveloped around the presence of sore, agony and the just of wounds
Stepping a billion steps into an oasis of 500 violin miles
Shapes these wheels of affliction
The osmosis of sadness sickening the soul
The thoughts rest inside me

The word: sadness


Copyrighted 2009