Posts Tagged ‘mind’

8

Posted: November 17, 2014 in Poetry
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An Eye of Blue is like a Dream-

a Sea is that One’s Soul!

A Field Aflame in Eye of Green,

and Brown will calm or enthrall.

 

My eyes are Amalgamations,

a collision of two Souls;

three Colors combat and Glow-

My mind, it always reels.

 

written 22 October, 2014

edited 16 November, 2014

“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain…” -Emily Dickinson

I felt a funeral, in my Mind,

like the slow decension

of the Sun clearing way for Dusk.

And- it seemed- the Procession

carried Reason in the polished Casket.

And the Dirge began to play,

Mourners faces remained Stoic,

the absence of Sagacity

weighed heavy on my head.

No riveting Ecstasy

as the cathedral opened up,

releasing a Necessity unto Heaven.

written 14 November, 2014

Ideas form at

slightest turn of Wind-

otherwise, the Mind

and Page are left- barren.

For- in Our minds-

We try to measure- Eternity.

This is one Fault of being Human-

the Impossible, We’ll try.

The Spirit- with Her fire Wings-

tries Her very best

to fly upward to my mind,

‘stead of beating ‘neath my breast.

The Hole on my head

cannot conceal,

were it not for my Mind,

which maintains Control.

When you enter,

you step into yourself

and confront all the things

that you’ve kept buried.

Green-brown spires 

with their limbs- gnarled like weeds-

cast shadows, block

out the sunlight-you must search for it.

The brown path is not worn,

the ground is cold, 

and singing seems pointless here,

because the wizened trees of your mind

will suck the joy out of the tune

and reduce your voice to a stammer.

 

Know

that there are more people 

than solely you in this forest.

All paths intertwine,

and people are never alone.

But be careful what you say

as you stumble through the woods;

you never know what innocent children

will hear your curses

from the thicket on the other side.

“Constantly talking isn’t necessarily communicating.” ~ Joel Barish (Jim Carrey), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Let me honestly say,

love, I have no idea

what I am doing.

I monologue

because you let me.

That is a mistake.

I’d rather listen.

When I open my mouth

something honest and stupid

always pours out,

and I’m so critical

of everything I say and do

and you might be too,

but you won’t tell me-

your feelings get lost

because you’re letting me talk

and talk

and talk.

I do not think of you at break of day,

the sunrise in its vivid orange holds

me so. I meet blazing sky with squinting gaze.

With passage of day I focus not on sun’s golds,

but on your hair: reminiscent of clay and bronze.

Your skin has been kissed by the zealous sun,

I envy it. Your eyes carry one hundred tons

of precious jewels, they glitter so. What’s to be done

when the sun’s passage turns my thoughts to you?

Am I to let this burning love fester?

Or should I loose the words, and then, know not what to do?

Sun, swallow me and let these thoughts pester

me no more! I would rather perish in flames

than go mad due to these wicked mind games.

Militant drums beat steady and coarse.

Families take shelter.

Men in uniform with sword, gun, horse,

are all blown helter-skelter.

Though flames grow, and sky fills with lightning,

these terrors are not the real kind;

for nothing is more frightening

than the war within one’s mind.