Tag Archives: poetry

The Quiet

We engineer realities sterile and clear behind closed eyes.
The day cast aside, night is near behind closed eyes.

Fleeting words, ideas not bound by definition.
The shape of unseen worlds appear behind closed eyes.

Forged hands balled in fists swinging in fruitless fits.
Regret building horrors to fear behind closed eyes.

Destinations escape through cracked sidewalks.
Roots stretch deep to interfere behind closed eyes.

Held breath is all that remains for us to fill our lives.
The gait of days stagger like years behind closed eyes.

Unreality, the should be, the could be, permeate.
Voices sharp enough to sear behind closed eyes.

Reflections dissolve, yielding to introspection.
Ourselves to ourselves leer behind closed eyes.

Truth grown monstrous enough to obscure reality.
Comfort stirs in silent tears behind closed eyes.

Life, the now of it, stands opposed to our dreams.
Defiant, we refuse to disappear behind closed eyes.

Impermanence endures, outlasting immortality,
I, Brendon, linger, always here behind closed eyes.

The Inertia of Rachael

No pause long enough for my aging eyes to rest,
the time they need to settle, focus, and define,
is too long for our two realities to align,
all I, we, or any can do is their best;
yet knowing that I still must confess,
the brevity of it leaves my heart behind…
She is so damn fast!

With her now like memories, I am but a solemn guest,
watching as she grows, iterates and refines,
proud she is a part of me, though never mine;
always sprinting ahead, chasing life’s next test…
She is so damn fast!

40 Winks

This now that is forever happens in a blink
though the forever of it pulls harder than time
It rises, lives bombastic, and falls in a wink.

Once again the time taken from me becomes mine,
where I can make great distances out of old dreams,
though the forever of it pulls harder than time.

Still, the life I have is fed full against the seams,
until who I am expands past recognition,
where I can make great distances out of old dreams.

Soon, these wants are not desires but premonition,
as I keep finding reasons to invest in me,
until who I am expands past recognition.

I need only define what angle and degree,
a mere in-between amongst a forest of change,
as I keep finding reasons to invest in me.

Sometimes, the times will distort in ways that are deranged,
this now that is forever happens in a blink,
a mere in-between amongst a forest of change.
It rises, lives bombastic, and falls in a wink.

I Implore

The horizon feels too strange,
the place of it, too alien for destiny.
A haze of guile undulating like waves,
so that as I look upon that distant goal,
my eyes are strained to hold it down,
yet still – I can’t make sense of it,

can you?

I’ve moved so little,
but I know it has moved against me,
together we both are changed,
though surely the journey is lost;
that future stalled while the horizon continues,
unmoved by my confusion,
taking measured steps long past my ramblings.
I cannot hope to keep up,

can you?

The static landscape envelopes me,
in a skyless desert without purpose,
where neither direction nor pace matter.
The horizon, stranger still,
keeps running towards a pointless end,
Sometimes – I swear I hear it screaming,

can you?

Conflict

I entered this world pure as light,
barren, smooth, meticulously white,
though quickly defiled with desires,
corrupted by eyes blind to sight.

Inward looking for what inspires,
not calm, but chaos to aspire,
unexplored possibilities.
Secrets now fueled and set to fire.

Undertaking hostilities,
nightmarishly tuned as are these,
requires but subtle restraint,
that dreams may also be appeased.

I make no audible complaint,
while I am so forced to acquaint,
with such colors ‘til I grow faint,
not a canvas, but a pile of paint.

Stories

Dark depths beneath a smooth surface,
Castaway thoughts, evasive and coy,
break against my expectant lips;
this moment of refuge hides joy.

Casting a glance past the threshold,
where all my dreams have found employ,
constrained within an earthen iris,
this moment of refuge hides joy.

The symphony of everything
silenced now to a quiet decoy,
muted in the choir of nothing,
this moment of refuge hides joy.

Collapse

The harm was not in the fall.
No, the drawl of tumbling
felt like a bow string released
and when it had ceased, humbling.

Pain was the pull from behind;
where my mind, ensnared in knots,
like a tangled quagmire drogue,
the last threads gone rogue in thought.

Though the relief was also strong,
it set wrong, muddled with guilt.
How could the cost of peace be
all of the things we had built?

Rebirth in Reflection

As the year ponders its own end,
aghast in morbid reflection,
the world I love stays hiding
in seeds of rejuvenation.

They dare not yet confide
the secrets kept from our ears
until the sun burns warm enough
to melt away their fears.

When wonders smooth out the rough,
blossom like fireworks in trees,
sparking, biting, igniting
life’s vibrant surge to be seen.

Colors bright and inviting,
emblazoned now in daylight,
dim gracefully in humbled bend,
yielding to stars’ conquering night.