The Romanticist

Somewhere

2006-03-23T12:02:00.000-08:00

Express yourself through paper and pen
Where in the world have I been?
Been wandering those dark and gloomy lands
where the sunshine casts an eerie light
upon the corners and crevices of the twisting hills
You may be on top of the Earth
but nothing matters if my soul is lost.
Gliding in dark shadows under hills and over
like a heavey laden traveler in a foreign land
each weary step heavier than the next
sinking in the drudge of that bog named self afflicition
wondering where he has gone and why.
with that eerie sunlight shooting down.
like some abstract and forgotten hope
dimming the eyes of my remembrance
of days gone before on this path of solitude
where the crow doth caw and the wind
plays with the overgrown path
but there is yet hope
hope that the next hill holds
a gentler slope and a peaceful rest.

3.10.03

Untitled

2006-03-23T11:51:00.000-08:00

A year passes,
and here I stand
Life passes,
and here I stand.
So young among the ancient of days.
The day passes,
and here I stand.
The waves crash,
the stars, see how they shine.
They sparkle and shimmer
as my days grow dimmer.
They march on.
They crash on.
They wait for no one.
They are silent.
But deep within they cry out,
like a banshee or some ancient Greek siren
Amazing love of sinful lust
that is not love but hate.

10.30.02

A fading epiphany

2006-02-27T19:43:00.000-08:00

I am not a man of in betweens
I am either here or there
I see the space behind the face
I know the beat upon thy heart
I see beyond your words and footsteps
I stand alone listening to the song of the leaves dancing in the wind
I vanish away
I fade into the gentle breeze
I fade into your eyes
I fade into the earth I tread upon
I fade into the distance
the distance I see in life
The distance of this earth stretches into infinity
And I can barely fathom it before it collapses...
back into the snap of the wind
the song of the birds
the smile in your face
It fades away.
The distance fades away.
Everything near fades into an oblivious sharp epiphany
I see the tree
I see the sky
I see the traffic
I see the movement
The constant change is static
And it stretches apart from me
My dying eyes its focal point
Time-place-circumstance-memory
and moment reign no more upon my soul.
Everything fades away from me, inside of me
This earth, this grey shadow of reality,
Fragile on the reflection of a teardrop
So various, so beautiful, so new
So static, so grey, so old.
A paradox within my eyes-
within my mind upon my soul.
Everything grey fades away from and into me.

Blue

2005-10-11T22:28:00.000-07:00

Ah love...
Let us be true to one another...
The beginning lines of a wonderful Matthew Arnold poem.
Why start out with such a line? Because life inspires me to. Because
you in my life inspire me to.

Ah beauty too wonderful to behold.
Your smile is a dagger to my heart.
On your eyes I float, descend, rise and fold.
I hang on every word you impart.
A fullness dwells within
more than words can say
and I am left here with a grin
thinking of you this day.
tomorrow is too far away
turning twisting like a knife
mocking my internal strife
missing you is my bane
i hung my head in the rain
then the thought of you
like a shooting star
shot across my heart
an image, a dream
and it was clear as a mountain stream
there you were standing next to me
your eyes shining as the dawn
and the touch of your hands on mine
made the galaxies come ablaze
a brilliant shining spinning ecstasy
a rhapsody between you and me
and the enchantment of the world
bred upon the tender touch
of you and me.

Espirit D'escalier

2005-10-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
When I can watch your eyes,
glance on me and I become undone.
Happiness and an epiphany in this:
the defintion of too good to be true
comes to me in a brilliant shade of blue.
And each rising morn
my mind replays your smile, your eyes
and breatheless yet again
akin to every glimpse of thee.

Paris

2005-09-30T10:28:00.000-07:00

I see faces
I've seen Paris
A photograph, a glimpse, a glance
A shot of you, of me - a shot of cognac
and gauloises disque bleu's - riding black taxi
A shot of Paris in my eye - a sidewalk
of black clad hollowness gliding, weaving streetside
upon the rue castiglione
painting flickering streetlight reflecting upon
the puddle within my minds eye
sidewalk simmering sweltering flesh
against the rhythm of the rolling, creaking, blaring
smoking traffic- ageless, endless, pumping,
throbbing, pounding footsteps stretch upon the pavement
trapped within ones self trapped within ones space
forever walking treading upon the mumbling rumbling echo of my minds eye
silhouetted sunsets set against my face
glancing eyes swiftly look away
and Paris swallows swooning lovers upon the Seine
the Eiffel Tower stands alone
gargoyles stare in my direction
seeking seperation from their stony perch
timeless, ageless, enduring ediface
standing all alone.

From Hemingway

2005-09-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

"They were walking through the heather of the mountain meadow and Robert Jordan felt the brushing of the heather against his legs, felt the weight of his pistol in its holster against his thigh, felt the sun on his head, felt the breeze from the snow of the mountain peaks cool on his back and, in his hand, he felt the girls hand firm and strong, the fingers interlocked in his.
From it, from the palm of her hand, against the palm of his, from their fingers locked together, and from her wrist across his wrist something came from her hand, her fingers and her wrist to his that was as fresh as the first light air that moving toward you over the sea barely wrinkles the glassy surface of a calm, as light as a feather moved across one's lip, or a leaf falling when there is no breeze; so light that it could be felt with the touch of their fingers alone, but that was so strengthened, so intensified, and made so urgent, so aching and so strong by the hard presssure of their fingers and the close pressed palm and wrist, that it was as though a current moved up his arm and filled his whole body with an aching hollowness of wanting.
With the sun shining on her hair, tawney as wheat, and on her golden brown smooth lovely face and on the curve of her throat he bent her head back and held her to him and kissed her."

Ah.......the bold smooth beauty of words....of a moment....of a place...of a beautiful kiss.
In me lays that calm aching hollowness of wanting with the breeze at my back and the sun on my head.... the world spins and I am standing still in this moment of mine forever paused on that plain of dreams as golden as a sunset.
Caught in beauty forever unfolding around me.

The Sacrifice

2005-09-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

Veritgo of Time

2005-09-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

Gone in sixty seconds is my love
Gone in sixty seconds is my love
The tic of the clock
The beat of my heart
How much time? How much time?
Forevery leaning over the edge
The edge of love and emptiness
The black and red kaleidoscope spirals within me - a vertigo
A fear of heights- the distance to my love
A canyon full of life seperates me from you
Where are you? Who are you?
Who is it that you are to me?
From what distance can I hear the echo of your heartbeat?
At what expanse of time and space will you beat for me?
The waves mumble you name and I am lost in them.
Crashing against the rocky shore
Bloody, bruised, battered...I weep
with love and joy - heaping sorrow
upon the Earth of greens and browns
Releasing myself unfettered by the moonlight
and the ancient stars distilled
within the night...
heart beating, pattering, pounding, whispering
echo's of love upon thy shore.

Solitude Revisited

2005-09-14T20:08:00.000-07:00

Solitude is an interesting thing. It is quite different from loneliness. Loneliness feels like the following. “ I lean my forehead against the glass and a great heaving tide pours over me, drowns me- in the most unpremeditated ways, in the oddest of places and for the most absurd reasons, as the day is generally calm, even cheerful, that sudden tide sweeps in called loneliness.” Those words are found on the second page of a book I read recently.
Solitude is a different beast. It perpetuates loneliness because solitude naturally leads to a withdrawing from people and society at large. I seem to levitate on the peripheral set smugly in an observant mode. Everything and everyone around seems to operate wholly on another plane of existence. The motions and the sounds penetrate that realm of solitude only to accentuate the self-awareness of the solitude. Those persons who happen to notice my existence exist as onlookers from a zoo yet they are unaware that it is they who are captured in the cage, encapsulated by the grey shadow of their reality, as if innocently unaware of the status of the reality of my unreality. And it is in that paradigm that I am ruler of this world. My kingly status is secretly held within my solitude yet smoothly felt with an air of prideful passivity.
And I wander on. I turn the corner with these silent footsteps following me.

G'Night

2005-09-12T21:14:00.000-07:00

My eyes are hurting
the night is burning
and my limbs are growing numb
the fan is humming
and the sheets are calling me
my pillow my only love
to sleep, to slumber
to dream to wonder
where my wanderings go
to stay within my dreams
is but a dream

tomorrow comes much quicker now

For You

2005-09-09T19:55:00.000-07:00

This poem was written by a friend of mine and English is their second language. I love reading poetry from those who don't normally write in English because it brings something fresh and new.

I wait here at the boundaries of dream ,
all shadaw-wrapped. The dard air tastes of night,
so cold and crisp, and i wait for my love .
The moon has bleached the colour from her stone.
She'll come, and then we'll stalk this petty world
alive to darkness and the tang of blood.
It is a lonely game , the quest for blood,
but still, a body's got the right to dream
and i'd not give it up for all the world,
The moon has leeched the darkness from the night .
i stand in shadows, staring at her stone:
Undead, my lover...O, undead my love?

I dreamt you while i slept today and love
meant more to me than life -----meant more than blood!
The sunlight sought me, deep beneath my stone,
more dead than any corpse but still a-dream
until i woke as vapour into night
and sunset forced me out into the world.

For many centuries i've walked the world
dispensing something that resembled love-
a stolen kiss, then back into the night
content6ed by the life and by the blood.
And come the morning i was just a dream,
cold body chilling underneath a stone .

I said i would not hurt you. Am i stone
to leave you prey to time and to the world? I offered you a truth beyond your dreams
while all you had to offer was your love.
I told you not to worry, and that blood
tastes sweeter on the wing and late at night.

sometimes my lovers rise to walk the night...
sometimes they lie, a corpse beneath a stone,
and never know the joys of bed and blood
of walking through the shadows of the world;
instead they rot to maggots.O my love
they whispered you had risen, in my dream.

I've waited by your stone for half the night
but you won't leave your dream to hunt for blood.
goodnight, my love, i offered you the world.

This Broken Earth

2005-09-07T19:40:00.000-07:00

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!

It goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! How infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.

Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindles villain!

The devil hath power
To assume a pleasing shape.

Abuses me to damn me.

You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass. Do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?

A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions.

- These quotes from my favorite piece of literature speak quite true to the nature of my heart at this particular moment.

Authored by a Dream

2005-09-03T08:21:00.000-07:00

Come
She looks for me....
come...walking carefully
talking with her hands she looks for me
the sun is setting precariously
come darling please wait for me
come as the sunshine is dying
watching waiting searching eyes
she looks for me
come anxiously
darling....why don’t you wait for me
come the sun is setting heavily
darling walking cautiously
always walking
footsteps gliding patiently
come darling
my heart beckons hastily
the sun is setting
watching searching looking while you wait
oh darling do some walking come to me
breathlessly breathing breathtaking you
and your dark hair glistens heavenly
the golden light beckons unto me
your heart stopping beating just for me
come darling don’t wait for me
I stand here waiting patiently
come darling the sun is dying
cease your watching and come to me.

Love will Return

2005-09-02T17:25:00.000-07:00

Wake up morning fresh and free
Wake up morning loving you and me
Wake up tomorrow and happy still
Wake up morning and there's still more to fill.
Ah beautiful star set before me
Let your light shine on me..
Let the your warmth embrace me
In your eyes I find my setting
In your eyes I find my love
In your eyes I find your love
Ah what day is this?
Peering above the tip of my heart
I stand here sailing into the morning
Summer's passing
Seeking midnight
Shining stars upon the moonlit trees
the dancing leaves play upon my soul
and in the moonlight standing gazing is my love.

Solitude

2005-09-01T16:20:00.000-07:00

I have found that after two years of spending a lot of time by yourself that noises are exaggerated.
The slightest tap of the keyboard or the shutting of the refrigerator makes the most eloquent of noise.
The mind and soul rests upon the silence in the air and the footsteps on the ground dance upon your ears.
Even the movement of your chest as you take in air becomes a marvel.
The hum of the Air Conditionar and the next door neighbor mowing his lawn is as loud as a jet engine
and yet the muffled consistency of it lulls me to sleep....ah to dream...where silence gains a companion
a world full of visions and magical desires yet to come true or past enjoyments brought back to sear the memory upon our souls as we wake...a price of a memory is the sorrow it brings. summer fall winter spring
the seasons may change but I my dear, am standing still
Silent as a tombstone, and my fingertips tap against these keys
and the silence beckons me and i cant help but listen
to the nothingness of emptiness thats calling me....

This Bloomin' World

2005-08-04T12:40:00.000-07:00

"...Its like a book, I think, this bloomin' 'world,- which you can read and care for just so long,
but presently you feel that you may die unless you get the page your'e readin' done,
an' turn another- likely not so good; but your'e to do is turn 'em all!

Gawd bless this world! Whatever she 'ath done-
Excep' when awful long - I've found it good
So write, before I die, "E liked it all!"

_ Rudyard Kipling