We dreamed our dreams, we made our plans, We started to rebuild, and strong -- Our fame had spread across the lands, But then the whole damn thing went wrong As we, the builders, put down tools To fight off knaves, and thieves, and fools Who drank unhappiness in casks And laughed at uncompleted tasks
If I could hide, and leave behind The shadows of my yesterdays, The sun would find a rested mind Exploring all the nooks, and ways Along the coastline of the sea; Away from all the urgency I'd stop to look where nothing was And smile a little, just because
A moment tinged with wariness,
A sense that danger’s coming near;
A feeling that she can’t express,
A vague, but unrelenting, fear –
She sees a face she loves and knows:
Her sister smiling, drawing close,
So tries her unnamed dread to stay
And meet her sister’s fiancée
We wake and rouse the sound to life;
A dressed-up, masquerading scream
That pushes on us fear, and strife,
And buries us in enthymeme —
We do this without cause or force,
For news is noise, and noise (of course)
Reminds us we’re all in the trough,
And truth, most days, can go sod off
The salt air in your nostrils, as
The waves lap out their lullaby;
The soul that is, is one that has
A right to give up on the “why”
For maybe, it’s not ours to know.
It will, it must, it needs be so —
The way we feel, but cannot guess,
A pattern that is patternless
The porpoise may become a shark,
If we don’t have our species right;
Because she loved him in the dark,
She thought she knew him in the light
She thought she knew; she felt so strong –
But love gone left is simply, wrong,
And hollow is the memory
That now is tinged with treachery
© Katarzyna Bialasiewicz | Dreamstime.com – Heartbroken woman
Astrogony she’s studied long:
The origins of worlds and stars —
The heavens greet her with a song
In timeless mystic reservoirs
A dance among celestial climes,
The peace that comes at end of times,
She climbs to heaven on a string,
A girl in love with everything
(“Astrogony” (as·trog·o·ny) – the theory of the origin of stars. – Owen)
I asked you once why you were sad;
You said that it was nothing, then.
Then life turned more than slightly mad,
And I lost track of you, my friend.
But now, I know the load you bore;
That you kept there, behind a door,
The hidden life you showed to none,
Although I wish you’d told
Just one
