you

night
flows peacefully over me
as i sink further
from the surface of the sea

i cannot
see you
any more

you
you of the beauty that cuts through my heart
you of a million years i have been waiting
not having known i would finally meet you
you of the last melody that brought me to tears
i always thought i could no longer cry
you
moved me

i never imagined
i would love someone like you
love anyone the way i loved you
never thought
i would ever dream of the ocean
and its waves of the darkest moments

i would have lost
my final argument
had the first light of dawn caught my eyes

love
felt so kind
unlike other emotions that i
learned
to feel

you
i am sorry
i never told you
it was my last kiss
i could ever give
i am sorry
i could not have given you all of me
though i devoted to you more of me
than i possibly could have to any soul
alive or dead

you
how could you ever
belong to this world

i missed you so terribly
i almost turned around
to run into your arms
but there was no star out tonight
to guide me back to you
i
lost it

you
will always be
my
and my only
love

dear lord

dear lord,

please

take me back
to where I do not belong

take me away
from where I do not belong

Strength

I read the words of others to collect the necessary mentality of strength to know how to deal with you,
because you love me and I love you, but in the event where both of us seem to lose touch with the earth
I need help to catch up with my falling soul and to fight the tricks it has against me,
so we could eventually be saved and sent off to the next round of uncertainties
in this episode of brutal love, one that claims itself to be the last in both of our lives,
only to see us almost left dead on the dried ground of emotions
under the sky that has been missing its rains of reason
for a very long time.

Nightsleep

I like sleeping with your arm under my head,
you holding me close to the skin above your heart,
occasionally running your fingers through my hair.

Sometimes I turn away from you
only to enjoy more the warmth of your embrace from behind my back.

I like it when you rest your head over my chest.
I love the way our fingers intertwine.
I like breathing in your familiar scent.
I like sensing your presence around me
especially when I first open my eyes in the morning
to see you right there.

Many times the comfort makes me not want to wake up,
so I could stay right by your side for a little longer, and a little longer.
I wish those moments had extended into eternity
as long as eternity involves you,
as long as your heart involves me.

Tonight, once again, just seems like a very silly joke
with me lying on my bed without you next to me.
How am I going to feel in the morning
if my heart already aches this way at night?

I want to crawl back into your arms.
Sleep like a baby with you.
I want to feel you as my world,
one completely separated from the one that is separating us.

Promise to Self

next time
I see a train coming fast enough
I will not
fail

Our Winter Song

it doesn’t really matter
that one day in the winter
you were mesmerized watching her
lick tiny transparent bubbly flakes of snow
that fell upon her tongue

but ever since, whenever your skin is closest to me,
your eyes turn away from mine.
you can’t bring yourself to look into my soul and see yours,
can you? our love is something you must convince yourself
to be true. you have been through many things like this
even your kisses have worn out. you have no desire of me
except for the madness of my words – encouraged by your
apparent existence in the world and within
my own. you are the worst pretender i have ever met
and the most sincere soul of misery i have
ever loved.  i’m sorry for the pain you have brought
upon yourself because you long for pure love, true love,
and you can’t afford to break my heart the way
someone else broke yours. so you stay, so you smile,
so you do what you think will make my sadness a bit
easier. you think so, you do. you didn’t think i would
be able to hear the silent sigh you left
on the side of my neck as I held on
to your arms during the loneliness of a
cold winter night

this song is for you and me as we walk hand in hand
away from it all
knowing we will from now on go forever
into the breadth of our longest winter
that spreads itself over the course
of a slow white death

Bitter

I love the contrast of our skins against each other.
Can we just lie like this for a little longer
Just stay there;
it isn’t over when it’s over.
Stay,
it will come back.
Believe me,
true love never truly leaves.

I tie your love all around my wrist
so you won’t go.
I can’t let you go.
Freedom is only granted
in the most secure prison:
my suicidal innocence.
Think you know me? Think again.
We both knew one day there’d be pain.

Think you know love? Why, it’s sad.
If this weren’t love I would have already left.
But you, my love, don’t you see?
You’ve never really loved me.
Enough with our tragic romance
What can we do to let each other go?
I no longer know how to
Do you?

That night when we walked lost in the forest

Give me a sky full of stars,
give me you,
then I shall have nothing to lose.

Walk me through the woods
of your true sanity.
Let me take you on our own trail.
You could tell
from the sounds of broken leaves,
dried branches, and sparkling stars,
no one else has ever gone this far
to find love.

Hands in each other’s coat pocket,
we walk toward the
empty center of our hearts,
listen to our favorite music,
the soundtrack of the night
while the stars are dancing to the notes of our voices,
laughters, and the warmth of our fingers
upon each other’s smiles.

Take me home with your eyes,
leave our field of stars behind.
It will be there if we come back.
Even if we never will.

You wrap me in the crumbled foil and
burn me, breathe me in
slowly, and I rise,my soul
in each blow of smoke
into the air, as you keep some of it
to yourself. I keep wondering
how long I truly last,
every time you put me on fire.
Maybe you do not remember.
You have long forgotten what it means
to be addicted to me.
I am something you just do
out of a habit you have had
and it no longer means anything to be gotten rid of
so you keep me here, and whenever you wrap me
in aluminum,
I would slowly vanish into the air,
fill up your soul, and
deepen your emptiness.

 

 

_______________

 

For proper formatting of this poem please click here: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/mari/

 

Patient #167

why don’t you sit down with me
and watch the day go by?
I never did it before they
sent me to this place.

it is not as scary
as you think.
in fact, it is so quiet
even its ghosts are leaving.
the youngest ones at least.
the oldest are too tired to dream
of a better place, and thus
have decided to stay,
and every night
we talk about the past,
of how things used to be.

they tell great stories
for they stop telling lies
after their lives, long lives.
so many memories,
it would take more than eternity
to revisit each and every of them
try to understand what it means
and forget all of the what-if’s.

if letting go is so difficult for the dead,
imagine how it is like for the living.

and so I have learned to forgive
myself, and those around me -
loved ones or strangers.
though I wish I could tell them
to take it easy, love life,
love love, appreciate,
do all the things that make them happy.
they will have all the time in the world
to ponder sadness, to be resentful,
to weep, to scream
afterwards.

so, young one, in your busy life,
once in a while,
give yourself a little time
to feel the angle of the winds,
know the depth of your living sky,
catch the color of the raindrops,
learn that every tree is different from one another
and you could recognize each of them
like the faces you have known.

and every once in a while,
close your eyes,
and open up your soul
to feel the grand stillness of time
that lasts forever in a single kiss,
to be caressed
by the fragile tenderness
of love.

these are some of the things
I have learned from the living
and from the dead.
you shall listen
to both, or either,
but not those who are dead
while they are still breathing.
they do not know where to go,
and thus, cannot give you directions.
if they try, you will either be hurt with a lie,
or a desperate attempt they make to feel alive
through you.

thank you for visiting.
if you ever come back,
bring me some stories
about the sea, for all of us here
long to go there, but we can only
recall and imagine it.
I long to feel the water
all around me.
its depth and vastness
are the dream we have
about a place where we can
completely
let go.

 

Dream

What if we are just characters
in someone else’s dream?
What happens when he wakes up?
Will he remember us?
Will I remember you?

 

Guilty

Somebody once told me,
in our tender embrace,
“Love is all there is.”

I told him to take it day by day,
to live and love in the very moment.
For I would probably leave him the next.

He took my advice
and stayed in love with me
every single moment he existed.

Love of A Story Teller

I only exist in fragments of time,
and so is my love.
You had me whole
in a night of tenderness.
I knew kindness and bliss
enough to turn you into a sweet memory.

“Why can’t it happen again?
Why do you have to turn me into a memory
the moment you walk out of that room?”
You said I lived and loved
as a story teller.
Quite a story you were.

I cannot keep killing you,
but you are not able to let me go.
Perhaps I am not either.

Thus I wonder how to write a wonderful story
without having it falling in love with me
or myself falling in love with it.

To My Any Lover

Poetry of the ones who are lonely
are not the same as poetry the ones who are lonely
without someone.

I have always known,
once I let you into this room called my heart,
it will never feel the same when you leave.

And yet I do, I do again and over,
you are my every lover, my any lover,
I have never stopped loving you.

You are the life of my words.
My readers do not know you, but they too,
have known how any love could hurt.

Poetry hurts because poetry is love
and because poetry is you.
Without you I would never have found inside myself a poet.

The world could do with one less lover. One less poet.
But I could not have become me without you and my poetry.
And the meaning of my life is just as simple as that.

 

______________________

 

It’s really easier to be lonely than to be lonely without someone.

The Anguish of Fearful Love

Let me take you to the realm of the past.
You know it was not pretty, you know it was sad.
But it was me before you arrived;
I was darkness before you were light.

I went through many lifetimes, many fights,
many women, many regrets.
I’ve never stopped loving any of those eyes
when they looked at my back as I left our beds.

The nights when I sneaked out and made phone calls,
tried to pretend that in the morning they would be all gone.
I thought I could hear the sighs, so soft,
tearing through the blind of darkness like thorns.

The same torment you all inflict upon yourselves
has got me immunized. I’ve watched every single one
walking out of my life after slapping on my face.
Where do you draw that strength from such little hands?

I feel you wanting to run away from me.
I feel you growing scared, worrying you have already
fallen into a deep trap. But neither of us
is meant to escape love, this love we have.

You tell me you’re smelling death, and your face
has turned purple. I sit and watch you
struggle with your emotions, with your pains,
and as always I feel completely helpless.

If I ask you now, “Do you love me?”,
you will say no. You are still in love
with him. Have you ever, for a split second,
realized he only exists in your mind?

You are fearful and so am I,
we are as flawed as the world we live in
and it is alright. Those who long for ideals
always find a way to survive disappointments,
or shall I say, reality.

The only ones who have committed suicide
are those who think they could put up with life,
who underestimate the way vanity takes a toll on them,
and at the crack of the sky, find themselves deceived,
so they jump under the flat surface of hope,
get everything in them shot with multiple bullets,
until it is too late to realize the lack of meaning
of their final decision, like many preceding others.

We are not like that, my love, and we love,
and I will make you love me instead of him,
because I am real, and so are you. I want you
to know how hard it is to want another person.
And our shared darkness has just only begun.

Butterflies

I am thinking of you,
the sincerity of your thoughts,
how you deal with emotions,
you do not know any better than running away,
in circles of isolation,
and when I restrained myself from running to you
and gave you time and space,
you thought I gave up on you.

“Did you really think I would give up on you?
I was the one who thought you gave up on me.”

“No, why would you ever think so,
if nothing had happened, if there had been no clue
of me leaving?”

We keep each other hanging,
as this rising discomfort
tightens around our neck.
We keep questioning ourselves
and others that we love
and us.

“Don’t give up on me,” you said.
How could I?
Do you really think I know how?
We are just two helpless creatures
facing each other
in the midst of our craving for affection.
So much to give, so hesitant to receive.

What are we going to do now?
If we are so alike, is it wise
for us to, maybe,
you know,
fall in love?

Wish On A Rainy Day

The rainy days in this town,
the trembling wind, and how
I live so close to the river,
which turns grey as the water
rises with millions of bubbles ,
remind me
of home.

Home is only a restless sleep away.

Over that vast ocean, on the dark sky,
I seemed to be the only one awake,
so wide awake in my thoughts,
knowing I could, or perhaps not,
find myself again.
Maybe you, too,
have lost yourself in between
two pins on a map.

But I am not on that plane.
I am sitting
at the high coffee table,
hearing the wind howl
around the trees, as my window
is left open.

And I wish I were light enough
to be carried away
not to home
but somewhere, somewhere else,
I do not know,
maybe some ocean sea
maybe some tall mountain
or wherever without the humans
and there, leave me in the heightened cold.

Though I would rather
for that mighty wind
to be strong enough, so my departure
would not take too long.
I hate things that linger;
they never do me any good
Things, like memories,
pain,
longing,
goodbye’s.
Thus I whisper,
“I’ll go now, and please,
make it quick.”

But my wind,
so distracted by the rain,
keeps passing without hearing me.

I’m telling you,
it is not so easy, after all,
to be granted such a simple wish
on a rainy day.

Weak

Why do we keep hurting each other?

How much longer can I live your dream
before losing mine completely?

What more can I do to please you
before forgetting what pleases me?

How farther away can I go
for us to be closer to one another?

When will you be able to listen to me
without letting your voice take over your head?

No matter what I do what I say how much I try where I am
you cannot let go of my life
I cannot let go of the life you force upon me.

You have a way to make me feel
useless
like I always felt, when I wanted
more than once
to escape.
The only place where that is possible
is somewhere else but this Earth.

From time to time
I feel like I am just a kid
being manipulated
by your expectations.
You cannot stop worrying about me.
I cannot stop worrying about you worrying about me.
I am tired of trying to maintain the fake peace around us,
of not being able to tell you how tired I have got
especially now.

How do I gather the courage
to stop thinking too much,
which does not help at all,
to simply let go
of everything?

 

__________________

 

Almost 7 billion of us on this Earth
what matters if I leave?

 

Typical Gossip

did you see her?

oh, dear god, why
did she pull
the trigger?
where did she get
the gun?

she was sweet
and caring
and everything
but now she is
dead
no one thought she was
the kind
who could take her own
life

did you hear
she left a notebook
full of her life secrets?

damn, I wonder
what she wrote
in it

do you think
it would explain
everything?

I wonder
what she was
thinking
that moment
when she was alone,
in her room,
with the ugly gun
staring right into
her heart.

Shallow

I miss you: the unique tone of your words,
the high and low notes of your voice,
the way you hold your wine glass
- how I adore your rough, handsome fingers! -
the shape of your smile,
the way your shoulder blades stick out,
the angle of your hips,
the length from the bottom to the tip,
and
the subtle sadness in your eyes
when I place my lips on you,
dance my fingers around you,
feel the furthest point of your body
under my tongue, leaning
against the back of my throat, and then
your hardness fall between my softness,
as my flow of life blends into yours.

Yet my memories, my deepest ones,
started one early morning
when you said hello to me,
when you were so gentle,
when you were still the unknown,
but somehow,
closer to my heart than you are now.
The more we know about each other
the further apart we get, even though
we have become more casually comfortable
with each other’s presence, the growing intensity
of my emotions,
the endless, exhausting questions
from the part of me
that longs for what we cannot be
together.