Saturday, January 9, 2010

How to Survive...

You’re still in that life
--but not really.
And your out of that life
--but not quite.

Come to stay
Stay away

To give you up
What a bell of freedom
That rings within me
No more waiting for
Phone calls
Post cards
That never come.

I am afraid that I will run out of poems
Before I run out of pain.

I rained, rain.

The sun will rise
In a few minutes

It’s been doing it
for as long as I
can remember.

Maybe I should
pin my hopes
on important,
but often
like that,

not on such relatively
trivial matters as
whether you will never
love me or not.

Hurt for a while.

I hope I heal soon.
I want to enjoy

You are beautiful just because you are.

You require time to heal. Give yourself the luxury. You deserve it.

I shall miss loving you.

I shall miss the
Of your embrace.

I shall miss the
Of waiting for your calls
That never came.

I shall miss the Joy
Of our comings,
and Pain
of your goings.

After a time
I shall miss


With each new person I meet
I wonder, is this the day
Fate has chosen, or is fate
What I have chosen to get me
Through the day.

The memory of loving
The most

While your internal world is chaotic,
Keep to a schedule in the outer.
This will give a sense of order
--also something to hold on to.

Falling asleep
Exhausted tomorrow
Early evening
Too tired
Even for

I am missing you
Far better than
I ever loved you

Sundays are the worst.

Holidays are the second worst.

Saturday nights aren’t much fun either.

It’s hard to look back upon any gain in life that does not have a loss attached to it.

Limbo : Is it on? Is it off? Is it a gain? Is it a loss?

Not knowing may be the worst torture of all.

When in limbo, and your better instincts tell you there’s little hope, it’s better to end the situation than to let it drag on and on.

Be with that pain. NOW. Set time aside for mourning.

To give up this final hope may be the most difficult of all.

Your anger will go away as your hurt heals.

from Lesley

"I still believe in paradise, but now at least I know it is not some place that you can look for because it is not where you go... It's how you feel for a moment in your life when you are a part of something. And if you find that moment, it lasts forever."

On Monsieur's Departure

I grieve and not dare show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be suppressed.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love ere meant.