seen from Pakistan
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seen from Iraq
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seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Brazil
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seen from Yemen
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seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
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The Pain that Life Brings
I don’t normally say these things
Bitching about life and all that it brings
I have you now though
Who cares how I’m doing and what I’m thinking
So I share it with you
Because before
I would bite it back and swallow it
Just letting the acid eat away at my insides
Saving face for all the world
Standing in staunch denial of it
Yet always feeling it
The Pain that Life Brings
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Don’t you lose her
There are forces that conspire against you
Against you and your love
Be it made of flesh or bone
Emotions or logic
The World or fate itself
They want to rip you two apart
Take her away from you
Don’t you lose her
Don’t you FUCKING lose her
She embodies all that you care for in this world
And raises you to a level
You could never accomplish on your own
Others cannot see her for her perfectly flawed
And flawlessly perfect balance with you
With all your strength
And all your fury
Conditioned by temperance
and fueled by love
Kick, scream, and fight like hell
Because
She’s worth it.
(A free verse poem, as I often write, about a certain pep talk. A pep talk that the little voice in the back of my head gave me. Every time I doubt and every time I feel as though I am lagging behind, it reminds me to fight. To stand up and love her no matter what.)
Hymn of Storms
Raging strong, this hearty storm
From it, we are born
Raised we are, to endure and fight
To destroy that which is our blight
For we are of the Storm Kings
Honor in blood, the essence of our beings.
(A hymn I wrote for my Game of Thrones class that I never actually wound up using. Going through my old notebooks is both inspiring and saddening.)
Distant Hearts
The trip is far too long
This distance spawns such pain
Curses and rage seek to blame
He says take a shot on the bong
Life is so alone
The future demands her be bold
Sadness takes a dark hold
She just wants to be thrown a bone
A digital intermediary
Touch base and share deep words
Things seem better and less dreary
Hearts soar like birds
We will be together
Soon enough
(Rhyming quatrains certainly help pass the time. Especially when you are away from those whom you love. Those whom your heart burns for. Time feels like it flows by so slowly, but it will only make your time together that much more precious.)
Keeping the Touch
Lacking a close touch
Offering each other kind words
Vexing state of affairs
Exasperation
Far obligations
Rending plans of being together
Opportunity finally arises
Making the desperate call
At last united
For only
A little while
Reaching for that next time
(Time for some interesting stuff and shooting outside of my real comfort zone; speed writing other poetic types! This here is an acrostic poem for my dearest gabby. We will be together again soon, I promise.)
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Share the Pain
Her mind is really twisted up
She is full of rage and despair
Nothing really changed
I know it
Apprehension fills my gut
I have to fix her mind
The occasional tear escapes
Her eyes glisten
Intermittent sniffling
Holding her close
I try to help
Words meet words
She is angry and stressed
Unwilling to let me in
I push her further
She remains unyielding
Her hurt becomes mine
I will have to help her another way
I hate waiting
Alone with my thoughts
As she fights with hers
Time crawls by
Bitter comments
Made back and forth
I feel ever so ready
Ready to break bones
I venture into the shower
To cool my nerves
A long bath
On doctor’s orders
Coming back
She says she’s sorry
Blames herself
I forgive and forget
What’s rash cannot go back
What’s done is done
Her pain
Is my pain
I just want to help
Bear the load
(A raw poem for supporting a loved one. This one in particular goes out to the woman of my dreams. She took a hit and was raw from the encounter, I did and will do my best to help her.)
Killing Kitchen
The knife is sharp
The board is dry
The herd is ready to be culled
The reaping begins
My first victim is covered in a watery sweat
His comrades watch in silent horror
Unable to move or flee
Screaming with no sound
I can test his delicious flesh already
In a slow and steady motion
Chop, cut, carve, cleave
So skin is parted from body
With a bit of fire
And a pinch of spice
I am ready to feast
To some, a regular need
To others, an art
Further still are those
Who just want the end result
Oh the joys of cooking
(Free verse poetry is pretty cathartic sometimes. And makes people feel like you’re an epic and sinister individual right up until the punchline. I personally enjoy telling horrendously over-exaggerated stories of making burritos to people.)
Look at that, another blog
You can’t go through reality without losing some of your marbles.
Real or mental
Marbles that is.
Yeah, another random blog -> https://www.tumblr.com/follow/wanderingreblogs
