Thursday, August 14, 2008

Time of My LIfe

I keep writing about all we did
Held hands, spoke with our eyes
And I forget to write down
How you make me feel
Or rather, avoid the act
For my mind would search so deep
To find apt words
These mortal feelings cannot be described
By a million immortal words
So ephemeral
Drifting between the shadows
Of reality and magic
Feelings of unencompassible love
Of sudden bursts of fury
That die with a thought of you
Of stretched hours of loneliness
Surrounded by people
Yet in my own dark corner
Of searing fits of pain
The separation, the distance, the silence
Rings like an ominous bell

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when language like bubbling streams flow

when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands

when you feel the essence of the poet from within

when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm

when images reel as you read

when pen and paper create a symphony

then, it is poetry