Tag: I Miss You

Emergency

I keep emergency coffee.

Reminder:
Keep a little behind
Save pay
For come what may
You know
That dreaded rainy day
When it pours
Indoors
Or we swap boardrooms
For sweeping floors.

But

I didn’t think
To pay attention
Failed to store
Those things
It hurts to mention

I should have saved
Emergency hugs
Banked kisses
Stored sweet sensation
Held on to holding you
That catalogue of your affection
A well to be dipped into
At will

Then
I might be able to sleep
Soundly

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Unpack and put away

And so the passport goes away
Perhaps to come another day
To take me off to distant lands
There once again to hold your hand

But now I sit alone again
Know it cannot be the same
As when we walked out in the park
And held each other in the dark

Streets which rang with laughter true
Will never more be graced with you
At least not with the you I met
That you is gone her laughs are spent

For though we held in darkness tight
Each other on in to the light
That shadow which within you knew
Emerged when far away I flew

Its sickening tendrils clenched your heart
And sundered there we fell apart
No more to find that blessed place
Though always I will seek your grace

Once more the passport goes away
Perhaps to come another day
To take me off to distant lands
Where long ago I held your hand.

Begin to glow

The river
Beckoning below
Drawing me
Into its flow
Passing judgement
On the show
Willing me
To let it go
Should I stay
I do not know
Terrible
The choices grow
Wind it whispers
Change and grow
Break out of your
Tempestuous woe
But oh to dance
To music slow
Hold her hands
Feet toe to toe
See those eyes
Begin to glow
But here I stand
Apart alone
The river
Beckoning below.

To Moth

A moth flits from the open window and lands on my knee. It tickles. Does he know how short his life will be or wonder where he is going? What the meaning of his existence is? No. He just ‘moths’. Action born of instinct. To do. Not to think.

How quickly I could end him.

I don’t, and he moths away. Fluttering his little brown wings without a care in the world.

Meanwhile I am left sitting looking at him. Trying to work out if it is possible to just ‘human’ and what just humaning is.

Is there a way to be which just embraces every moment as it comes, moves from moment to moment in blissful ignorance?

The moth comes back wondering if my bare leg is something interesting.

Then flits away again.

I sit and read for a little. Wondering if this is what humaning is. At least in part. Sharing experiences. Whether messages and conversations are like the moths as they dance around a candle. Or am I the candle? Burning slowly. Not wanting to burn too fast, too bright, lest I run out of fuel, waiting for someone to come along and snuff me out.
That lingering smoke smell the afterthought of my existence. The reminder of my light and presence. Reminder of the light that was.

The moth flies out of the window.

I hope it finds another moth. It may not be the most beautiful, elegant or intelligent of creatures but it is, just like me. Doing what it does.
Trying.

Sometimes finding what it is looking for, even when it isn’t looking for it.

_______

I wrote this some time ago when thinking and writing a little more than I have been of late as a message to somone I hold very dear to me, someone I always will hold dear to me, always. 

It strikes me that what I said then applies so appropriately to how I am and what is, that it should be something I am more open about. To be, to Moth, to Human; these are things which should come naturally yet we constantly fight against them. 

I hope that for at least a moment every day, with or without anyone or anything else in my life, I might be able to find the ability to just BE.

On the wind

I blow a kiss.
Carried on the wind
You may never feel
It grace your cheek
Or warm your lips,
Touch your soul
In dark so bleak:
It will always be,
Floating on the breeze
An eternal offering.
If ever you
Should choose to feel
It will be.

Dreams

Once again, within a dream,
Upon a street you’ve never seen
I saw your face and heard your voice
I took your hand (I had no choice).

There, into weary eyes I looked,
And read your story like a book,
Though sections still remain unclear,
Yet all I want; to hold you near.

Monday

Monday.
For more than a moment
Misplacing motivation
In myopic misery;
Moping,
Maudlin.

Meditating,
My murky mist mellowed,
Momentarily.

Maybe if
Mindful
Of my microscopic
Mark
In this massive macrocosm
Might I find
More meaning?

(Meh)

My mind meanders.

Music’s murmured mumbling
Magnifies the missing.

Mercy?
No more!
I am merely a man,
Miserable on Monday.