Every heart a warm embrace, a hug on cold winter’s day. Every multiplication, duplication without deception a kiss from the warm lips of strangers. Every word of wisdom give wings to falling dreams, and parachutes to failing poets. Everything matters in the end, as long as it is sustained.
Every heart a warm embrace, a hug on cold winter’s day. Every multiplication, duplication without deception a kiss from the warm lips of strangers. Every word of wisdom give wings to falling dreams, and parachutes to failing poets. Everything matters in the end, as long as it is sustained.
Copyright © 2021 @behind-the-veil-of-sanity / Hayden Veil
I can tell you why I’ve given up
let the daily debt accumulate.
I can tell you why I’ve given up
let the letters pile and words disperse.
I can tell you why I’ve given up
let my lazy friends fade to ghosts.
I can tell you why I’ve given up
let the pears die and rot alone.
I can tell you why I’ve given up
but you no longer care a whit
of me and mine and ancient history.
I can tell you why I’ve given up
,
— or choose to not.
Bedroom secrets:
the bleak shadows of pure joy,
preparations of a broken bed
to merge the living with the dead;
folding, stretching, patting
the final resting place
for a day’s dirty deeds
done - - - — — — - - -
; without aid
as the morning broke
the thoughts turned pale
the ravishing daylight spoke
in riddled tongue of fear
or Fear, to remain hidden
covered in the night’s embrace
of doves and ducks bestowed.
Bedroom secrets:
to make a bed
one need only to awaken
fold, stretch and pat,
then await the setting sun
a bell’s toll summoning the living
to the bliss of a ready made bed,
heated yet dead.
I wallow in the waves of never-freezing waters,
kiss the round lips of unstained untainted truth,
hum hum and hum — like the shining sea serpent
rising above the salty shoreline searching for prey.
I hide beneath the willow tree,
let its soothing whispers take me
elsewhere, where there are no waters
no truth
no humming noises
and no alluring scales
– to seduce me
Like dust in darkness I am unseen,
unassuming chirps of exultation
escape my nest;
I crave love.
Like dust in darkness I am unseen,
between one thought and another
I rest and remain asleep
while you consider and contemplate
an offering unexpressed;
I crave love
I crave your love.
Like dust in darkness I am unseen,
in between a world of one and …
another’s … fire … burning …
I crave love
I crave your love
I crave the love you will never devote
– a secret lover.
Like dropping leaves in autumn breeze,
they say time heals
and healing is forgiveness,
they say forgiveness heals all with time;
but autumn leaves brown and shrivelled
are no longer … givers – of hope
but mere echoes of a once prosperous life,
haptic illusions crumbling
with the withering wailings
of a child never forgetting
nor forgiving
— with time
Neither the blessed bees, nor the Angels of Art
cursed us with this damming disease of gilded glue,
this slow flow of deafening silence, sadness
and slow demise.
I cannot hear your pounding heart, Your love
is muffled and distant like a corner of your heart
abandoned and deserted me for some other
vaguer cause. I am the keeper of the hives,
maintaining sanity through hearing the honey
soft and slowly running
— away