Tag: poetry

Tearing Down A Canvas

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

System primed and all is a go
Like bodies in their younger years
Stem to stern but starting slow
Held by broken hopes and fears

Tangled twine and twisted time
Gives not way nor right
We take each day line by line
Chin high we stay in this fight

Heart strings tied to broken shards
Secured too loose for binding hearts
Not strings of lutes strum by the bards
In a romantic time apart

Still threadbare cloth doth cover skin
Keeping neither heat nor shame
Exposing tiny cracks and sin
Leaves the wearer seeking flame

Tired minds and tired eyes
Strain to just maintain
The willing body will subside
And time will always reign

A Door Opens

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

A door swings open
And the cold air rushes in
Ahead of the weary figure
Another cold night
A place far from home
Again feeling this pain
Amid the miles
And the faces of strangers
Alone and segregated
Another cold night
Alone in this room
Ambiance lacking substance
A bed
A lamp
A place to sit
A place to rest
Among the scattered papers
All falling like the snow
A drape on his shoulders
As his breath hangs in the air
Acrid and cold
Anguish and trying
Alone in this room
Abandoned to this existence
Abused and discarded
Another night
Another cold night
Alone
Alone in this room

Coming Around Again

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

You take me back
Memories so still
Of summer's breeze and winter's chill
You silently plead with a child's will
To be safe, held tightly in my arms
Lifting you up, to keep you from harm
Don't let this mood be your alarm

Like the moon and my sin
This will come around again

Our cycles abound
These cycles come around
Dragging cycles over ground
In celestial joy
The cycles resound

While we bend the sky
Across horizons wide
And with them meet,
the curve of your eye
And all my sins will be magnified

But still you remain of silent will
Cradled safely in my arms so still
Like summer's breeze and winter's chill
My love will come around again

High Above

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Under a sky
So odd to me
Climbing on high
A feeling so free

Inspiration from a dream
Inspires but only for a day
Inspires to what is seen
Inspiration will fade away

High above the lights below
A city cuts the darkest night
A million fires burning slow
A million hearts holding tight
A million loving hearts will show
A million hearts with love they might
And although I'm high, my heart is low

Lost

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Start your search for where I sit
Lost in music, thought and alcohol.
Where I'll be digging through the darkened folds of my mind
Searching for the words to express the feelings in my heart.
Tearing open my skin to let out what is within
And expanding my reach to embrace everything that life can bring.

Fifty-Two Hertz

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

52-Blue: The Loneliest Whale

“Calling out at 52 Hz, a frequency unrecognized by other whales, this mysterious creature is believed to have lived its life in solitude. It calls forever unanswered by its own kind. In our ever-present fascination with these majestic beasts, the tale of “52” has prompted an intense reaction amongst our own species, pointing to a greater awareness of human loneliness than ever before.”