Month: January 2013

the future I will not see

/ andyveilleux / 4 Comments

I can see you with

a painted-on smile

and man on your arm

who doesn't know the

first important thing about you.

 

I will not see it happen,

or else,

I will shield my eyes,

for fear of losing respect 

and admiration for the near

and the dear.

 

 

Nothing near stays so

for long after the fact

and that's life:

a constant shuffle of people

getting closer and further

and sometimes itr lasts longer

than others, 

but we're all orbitting somewhere,

satellites with our own gravity

alkways pulling and being pulled.

 

Some gravity is stronger than others

and some are gentle as the spring breeze

while others will collapse your lungs and skull.

 

Some orbits are bad business,

and that is what I never want to see

for you

but a prophet is not required.

 

Gravity rides everything,

and sometimes

we all do too.

faces like back of thumb tacks

/ andyveilleux / 1 Comment

The generic and bland

flood

the streets of even the

biggest

most exciting

cities

culminating in one massive yawn from

everybody that is paying attention.

 

I long for the rare beauty 

of appearance

and character

that seems almost generational,

or at least

once a year

and they do exist.

 

Often single

or being under-appreciated by 

some meathead or other failure as a human being

or instilling true fear in the hearts of boys

with the bodies and age of men

for boys fear

the power of rare beauty

and should stick to the 

thumb tack girls.

an unfamiliar absence

/ andyveilleux / 1 Comment

I reached my hand out,

an outline of flesh against off-white walls,

in a familar way in a familiar place.

 

An unfamiliar absence became,

and sat beside me,

strummed the chords of my

lonely, lonely

heart.

 

It wept for me,

as I could not weep for myself

in an empty place with ony my demons

for company.

 

It cried tears onto my shoulders

and I raised my head towards the ceiling,

an expression of understanding

and lament for all the lost days.

There is always the void

/ andyveilleux / 2 Comments

Some voids aren't meant to be filled

and maybe that's the secret in all of this;

the alpha and the omega,

there is always void.

 

Never more so than in this moment,

now,

which only lives in a void that can never be

connected to the past of the future,

it can only bump shoudlers with them.

 

Every moment lives in a cage,

like a soul is caged in a body,

and nobdy ever makes it out of here to

touch

anyone else elses' soul.

the fleeing of soul from body experienced through water drops

/ andyveilleux / Leave a comment

The water falls out in drops

that slap me gently,

making me blink,

and bead down my exposed face

and uncovered body.

 

Something runs away with the water

and it will never return,

each drop of water claws into some

memory

and tugs it down the drain

until I am left fighting to hold onto

anything that mattered

once upon a time.

 

The familiar numbness is revealed,

licking its lips and 

waiting just behind me with extended fangs and nails

it waits for the final day when

the ultimate nothingness

replaces the human nothingness

and I join the infinite space of existence.

 

Nothing matters as the water

drains soul from my body

as acid eats glass

slow

steady

unforgiving.

the river waits for no one

/ andyveilleux / 2 Comments

Water pushes and pulls

unforgiving and unyeilding

and its effects never end.

 

It treks onward

one slow, methodical, step at a time

or charges head-long into the abyss,

but never stops.

 

Water, like time itself,

smoothens the inanimate

while eating and crimping the organic

until it bends or moulds all to its will.

 

love,

love and its loss,

also eats the organic in a slow decay

unmerciful and not quite complete,

the slow appetite becomes tolerable

in time.

Lost in winter

/ andyveilleux / Leave a comment

Nothing grows in this frost

and

everything breaks

without respite or hope

it will heal.

 

The bleeding also stops though,

and while limbs and pieces

fall apart and change

the core remains intact,

even its rotten guts.

 

I don't want to wait this long

and I just want to see us there

but there is nowhere else.

Home and home

/ andyveilleux / 2 Comments

home was an ideal stuck in my head,

a memory desperately avoiding my swopping claws

and razor-sharp beak.

 

Home is still evasive,

a ghost among dunes of sand and mounds of bone,

something far enough to be blurry but not yet forgotten.

 

What I always seemed to want –

the nomadic physical life –

to go along with the spiritual nomad inside me,

has vacated me of feeling alive.

 

I regained my old home

temporarily

with old tricks and

an old way of being –

your soul bounced on me with

such violence and affection and I

exploded

back to life.