Progressions | Page 9

me then fails.
Can I not see??Can I not hear??Can I not understand??If so, what then?
"Friends", you say??"Friends are true,?Friends, are we?"?Friends we can be?!
If so, why then??If so, is life so smug??So painfully convulsing?Where it kills my soul?
Where it destroys every man!
"SARABANDE"
On days that seemed?All too brief, my friends?A double-laden booby?Happened along, my friends?As never before to block my way.?And should I pass, I thought?-- And it answered back at me:?"Why, my friend, I'm not really here,?Do so, what you will!"?And I did.?I passed this morbid entrail?Smelling wafts of sour colitis?While all that was around me?Baked in the sweltering heat?Of the blazing noonday sun.
Then I remembered?What had happened.?The pearly-skinned lovely
That sent me on my way?And I knew what I had to do,?To save what little of reputations?That I once had,?To gain it all back,?My friends.
So here I hold,?A great stainless steel?That soon will have been stained,?If not for ever?At least for a while.
And this made me smile,?My friends,?For I knew that no one?Would forget me.?Not his time.
And they didn't!
They put the new clothes?On me, as dead,?And I watched and saw,?And what did I do,?My friends??I let them.
And there SHE was,?A sight to behold?My colleagues dear,?Her crying and weeping?As they lowered me?Down, into the hole.
And I laughed at this?Hypocrisy, on my behalf.?I wonder if the world?Will remain for long after??Will I be lonely, as so?As when alive, in my?Hollow tenement?
And then I heard it,
The dirt hit on my box,?The murmur of people sounding?As they left me there, aloneHeading?for the party?The guest of honour, ME,?Which isn't and will never again be.
"THE DIFFICULT WORDS"
Three tiny words.?To make one happy?If only they can be spoken.
However, needed strength?And nerve, enough to say?What's been made embarrassing?By their misuses by man.
Expressive hate?Seen much too often?But Love hides within?And remain a deaf-mute.
"I LOVE YOU!"?Sweet-sounding, a birdsong?Sparking the heart, warmly?And spreading itself to the soul.
Listen to them.?"I LOVE YOU"!?On paper can be said?But not uttered by voice.
Are we to die?A silent, lonely deathKnowing?not a Love?While existing here on Earth?
What holds us back?
Does Satan's will,?Hold our tongues from speaking?Our Love, to one we love?
From showing that Love?We want to show, to her?
"I LOVE YOU!"?Hoped to be heard?Through telepathic minds?That never seem true.?For the only belief there is,?Comes from the voice of heart.?The utterance of only three words.?"I LOVE YOU!"
So easy to see?The emotion on this page,?So hard toe express?In person to that one,?The one that strains your mind?The one that slays your heart?The one that crushes your soul.?Sigh-but I really do-?"I DO LOVE YOU!"
"DILEMMA"
A girl's on each hand.
One is much loved,
The other, always there.
"BREAKING 10 / 80"
Far away.?My heart's pounding?Dies in a void?A vacuum-emotion.
Broken by love,?And healed by itself.
Yet, only in time,?Yet, only . . .
I see her smiling?At someone else, but me?She sees not, a haze?Made by admiration?A wall made of steel?By a failing confidence,
Yet, only . . .?I . . .
Can't seem . . .?I can't believe . . .?No admiration, or respect.?My life, empty and dry,?Dark, in a sunless cave?Of hate and distaste?Breaking . . .?Only if I . . .?Bleeding, in remorse.
I can't find my way,?Out of my lost thoughts.?My belief . . .?I . . .?I am broken.
"IN MY ROOM"
Clothes thrown over a chair.?Socks and briefs on the floor.?Shoes hide under the bed.?Coats are hung on the door knob.?Magazines, stacked in the corner.?Junk clutters the dusty dressers.?Ideas are lost forever?In my room.
"SHE BEGAN TO TIRE"
Not a very long time?Had passed us by?When she began to tire?From the good times,?We were having.
I can see her now,?Rubbing her sore buttocks?After falling, while skating?And making funny faces.
I offered to her my hand?To help her up?And she slowly slipped?Into my arms and kissed me.
We stayed together?For quite a long time,?Until she began to tire?From all our good times.
I saw her, now and then,?Moping about the house?Humming sad little tunes?Looking at our old photos.
She once did things for me,?Even when it was unnecessary.?But she began to tire?And left me to my peace.
"DOES SHE KNOW?"
Whenever we are close?To one another, when?Our eyes lock togetherNot?for long, before?With unease we look?Away, and I wonder?Does she know?
Can she see my?Love for her, there
Through my soul's windowMy?love's heart, beating
Only for her and?No others besides.?Can she see my?Lonely heart, wanting?Her eyes to answer me?The question that I have,?Does she know?
What, she may be?Growing thoughts, the same?As follies through meIf?I feel the same?As she feels the same?The question of us both?Does she know??Does she know?
"A DROPPING"
A Love's, that's formed,?Through thought or deed?Brought on to man?And his tempered breed.?His entrailed thoughts?That spew and melt?His spirit's life away,?Till nothing's left to see?But icy fields of clay,?Where the pounding heat of sun?Lets mists rise from the sea.?Then echoing shots from a gun?Drops the young man, just in fun.
"SILENCE"
Lending oneself to darkness?The sounds empty about,?A clockwork growing noisy?Yet made by nothing there.
A beating breath abounds?From air of which is poison,?Asthmatic gasps