Rings of Smoke

Where shall the word be found, where will the word | Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence

the moon

Posted on | August 7, 2008 | 1 Comment

why is everything dark?

am i in a dream of another person?
or have you decided-
to never come again?
i think i am following the moon,
and chase it-
like a barking dog,
only,tormented by repulsive
fumes of vodka,
i am confused.

i think i told you once-
that i loved you,
beyond here and hereafter,
and maybe i was drunk-
and lying,
or do you love me too?you never say so,
and why is this life-
like a roller-coaster ride?
sometimes you love me,
and sometimes i love you too,
but neruda may be wrong,
i love you when you hate me,
and,as they say,
vice versa…

the moon is a complex creature,
not analyzed in half a poem,
like me-
not knowing what it wants,
and yet wanting,
desires will be its downfall,
but yeats wrote-”what matter!!”
i am drunk,as i was
when i made those promises-can you remember them,
of love beyond boundaries-and limits,
and dirty jokes told on poor farmers,
haunting us,
like hangovers of bad vodka,
not going away with the morning-

i think i might dream of you tonight,
not that it makes any difference,
i still hate to love you,
and maybe you know what you want-
not me,
someone whole-a complete creature,
a surgeon,who has carved his heart away-
as i was once…

this darkness seems closing in,
the last,faint whispers of sanity,
memories of a world with you,
lead to white noise-
dreamless nights-with or without you,
incomplete,but not dead,
gloom is dark they say,
but it is white-
without you,
when everyone is happy-
except me.
except me.

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Category: english poetry, life
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Comments

One Response to “the moon”

  1. Cuckoo
    August 7th, 2008 @ 10:26 pm

    Very intense. I can feel it.
    Can’t say anything more.

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