merciless hope

dreams fade
eventually

slithering
into
pale fogginess.

years recycle years

grinding down
shellshocked lives

more
raw
fodder for the beast.

but not hope

because
hope persists

mercilessly
jabbing

at
the
core

hope twists knives

a
teasing
constant
ache

hope

the very ache
that
assures me

that

i

am

alive

Note: A Typical Example of a Thoroughly Contrived Romantic – Loss themed “Poem” …

Note: A Typical Example of a Thoroughly Contrived Romantic – Loss themed “Poem” …

looking back …

peering through the butterfly – wings of time,

I see myself,

ever searching for the truths,

to still my vagabond soul:

searching here,
there,

in-between here and everywhere,

till decades flash past,

the toll of maturity bringing with it,

the brutal truth,

that though I had searched here,

there,
and everywhere in-between,

I had failed to see you,

right there,
ever beside me,

and for that alone,

I do owe,

a heartfelt apology,

and,

an immeasurable amount of gratitude,

to thee …

The Mask of the Clown

The Mask of the Clown…

I walk alone,
eluding plastic laughs,

lost in the cashmere vacuum of designer scarves.

I walk alone,
wearing the mask of the clown,

flailing in the maelstrom of empty words as I mutely drown.

I walk alone,
my smiles are all fake,

ever fearful that this cocooned heart may shatter and break.

I walk alone,
so please don’t believe the words I utter,

meaningless bits of flotsam racing down this hollow street’s gutter.

I walk alone,
always on the outside, looking in,

ever vigilant that my soul may be battered right through my thickened skin.

I walk alone,
wearing my many masks of the foolish clown,

exposing my heart to the scalpel of the world as it kicks me down.

I walk alone, yes,

yet,

I refuse to surrender to the scorn of the judgemental frowns.

Yes, I walk alone!

while behind my mask,

I feel the stinging saltiness,

of,

the tears streaking down the unseen cheeks,

of this perennial clown.