Cindy• Show poetry

 

The realization of self worth,
sensitized against digital waves,
transmitted trough superficial space

while bouncing from satellite to dish,
can never truly be a virtual thought
nor an idea, (breathe) it can only be what it is,
… a television.

Ck.

 

 ~

Forever the fool

 

Sorrows surge, flows though buckled veins,
bursting into the torn seams of my soul.
As I tremble with such intensity,

the heavens must surely be shaken and dazed.

 

I lost your affection, a love that once
even passion was envious of.
A love that will never touch my heart again,
nor sing the melodies we cherished. 

I was the fool and still the fool,
how could I have thought I could just set you aside,
expecting you to linger with fervor and desire

in your heart, pining for my return.

I watch you with her and I weep
in such profound passion that is aches to breathe.
The skies no longer know the rainbows,
nor does the breeze bring romance to the heart. 

In this shattered shell, lay a fool...
regret does not even begin
to explain the empty feeling.

But I know, I will love you past eternity’s death,

a never ending end, and forever the fool I am.

 

Ck. 

 

~~

The Silver Sea 

Sleep in a silent grave with me;
submerged under the silver sea
and feel the grip where ships may be,
sleep in a silent grave with me. 

As sirens wail within your ears,
a calm cold death will soothe your fears
and you shall sleep throughout the years,
as sirens wail within your ears. 

Old sailors watch as sails sink low,
the ships stood taught then slipped below
yet ocean waves soon calmed their woes,
old sailors watch as sails sink low. 

Sleep in a silent grave with me,
I am earth’s hands, I am the sea,
I’ll take your breath and set you free,
sleep in a silent grave with me.

Ck.

~~

 

Shaded-eyes, volcanic-ashes,

spider-webs draping from lashes.

Cutting deep to feel the hurt,

bloody-hearts beneath clean shirts.

They hide within falling leaves,

secret-scars beneath their sleeves.

Someday I hope someday I pray

all their pain could fade away.

And happiness would fill their lives,

from laying down the carving-knifes.

Ck.

 

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