PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Pain is more painful in remembrance

than in experience,

it kills ones remaining strength and then

shatters his conscience.

When I listen to voice of society

I do it sincerely.

Truly, I shun no one.



But when I begin talking no one listens

like i never exist.

Alas! I am no one.

I never

considered emotions

as the backbone of my

existence -

if it falls, it falls

alone.

Collapse is

a wounded ego,

for It is that keeps

me standing wherever

soil I'm on -

Gaining it back

is being reborn

as another

person.



(Feb-2005)

what do you want?

what are you doing?

how come nothing

ever comes from

every new step?



no--

you'll never

ever know

all the world

outside

just what you see

from the inside



the only way

you can survive

is to know

the world will survive

without you



your soul is

the only thing

you can change

the only thing

that's really yours

to take with you



the world exists

for itself

you just bumped

into it without

any help



your soul is the only thing

you can perfect

the world wants it dead

because your death

is all it knows

your death is what

it will show

not your soul

i.



As I walk this field

the grasses I stepped at bow down.

Today, I'm their King.



ii.



The winds tell something

that we cannot understand.

Alas! They don't lie.



iii.



Waves rush to the shore

creating their signatures;

but no one will know.



iv.



Observe the falling leaves -

how beautiful to see them

as they reach the ground.

There is no known reward, so far,

that could equal the nobility of

a statue.



A statue is the most commendable

above all that would not grow.

It has done feats that man alone cannot do.



Proudly, it stands, it endures

the sweet sores of the eye of the sky

and pains cursed by those who walk.



It never bows, nor does it bend.

Not at all. Still, it boasts only

a little; or it never even does.



at the day's end, we still can't

hear it complain, nor see it frown.

It just stands with dignity

that touches the chest of heaven.



Despite this, a statue is satisfied

with its lifeless existence.

When I look back

at the battles I've won,

I see nothing

but spaces, also doubts -

I am this man

without any image,

even senses -

this is the life I've spent.

being an examination of the fruitfullness of letting go.



Taking time to not skip the cracks

the midnight gone and into the kaleidoscopic dawn

finding the alluring of the stacks of books awry

the skies themselves cannot embrace her in their serious moods

the time comes with it's own freedom

to laugh the meaning away from the words

I felt your eyes burning holes in my back

My heart was racing, my confidence broken

My self-esteem shaken

An inferiority complex on my face

A refugee look, marginalized

Queered by my own mouth

Did I really want to retire

Or did I need therapy?

Cheers to the longest pain I have ever felt

I didn't want to get out of bed

No sleep, my legs cramped in the night

Did everyone hate me

Or was I just worried about my future?

I was in this cave of pain

And it would not let me heal

Almost all my friends were gone

It seemed like I had been lost

these last few years

Devils taunted me with my own fears

I needed to start to come out

I took slow deep breaths

Loved ones will come back if they feel the same

Just as Socrates said

No one should live an unexamined life

Your feelings are your own--logos, reason

Your subconscious, too--soul, psyche and God within

You control your feelings

You control your actions

Whose face is that in the mirror?