Love and
loss,
Or
Love and
lose,
are the bread and
butter
of being human.
Canadian poet
Darkness
The darkness blurs the lines between reality
And
The imagination.
One walks within a dreamscape of their own design
And the smallest beliefs become dogma or truth.
The line between a life well-spent and a discarded life
Rests on the subtle tints and scratches on the glasses.
Cage of freedom
My body ain’t a cage
Or an imprisoning container.
The soul flies as will allows,
And any freedom sacrificed is
A personal failure and responsibility.
Is there more freedom worth wanting?
No.
memories and my circus
The days stopped melting when weeks became a blur and
there was something lucid about this long dream I
could not place my finger on,
or any other useful appendage.
My brain tried to wrap around it all,
warped,
and became a circle of infinity,
forever repeating a forgotten memory
so old it had become snowed out like so many
old VHS movies.
I could sit and stare at the screens for hours,
and the message or medium never changes.
My life as a circus show
minus a few bears riding unicycles,
and a strong woman.
Heavy heart and lust
I lied when I said forever,
although I meant it at the Time,
and every Time I said it.
I could not have meant it more,
and the leaves feel and died
and so did we, baby,
and we had no chance.
A voracious appetite for sex
and never-ending lust for the new
led us to new, but no greener, pastures,
if anything we constantly downgraded.
We dragged along our crosses,
totems to one another’s failures
that we were unwilling to help solve,
and instead decorated the walls with.
I remember your totems and idols and
somewhere along the way the love became sadness
but never regret or a Third Chance.
I’m not even sure I gave you any chances,
or if I gave you too many of them,
because it all blends together in a big mess
of hatred, deceit and misery.
There were good times,
oh, so many good times,
and the cheap smiles we would pay fortunes for now,
had all deserted us, unwilling to be bought.
You were brown, and blonde and red,
but I missed that one,
and I don’t miss you.
Play time in neutral space
And I want to play.
I’m something now but feeling hollow,
time all spent with the same result
life is a neutral game.
The more we push against others
and against objects,
the further we drift from anything that is real.
I find myself in a void with strangers,
strangers as half-empty, half-hollow as me,
but I don’t think they can see it.
New realities
From the skies we see
Lights in the dark
Each one being controlled by living
Specks floating
In the chaos of being.
No tangible meaning
But each one an entirely new reality.
Fatima
Dark on dark and
Eyes couldn’t find a hole to crawl into
But something stirred in you and I
Rooms apart
Never to be satisfied.
Forever is a long time,
The longest yet but we never gave up
As we crawled
Leaped
Swam and
Cried for more.
Believe in me,
Trust in these arms
Weak with failure and history.
Was there something more than this?
Is there now?
Liquid People
The people pour themselves into imagined containers
Of who they believe themselves to be,
But every construct has its holes and we never see the truth.
We keep leaking out of personalities
And building new stories to catch our watered souls
Until we finally run out of our liquids.
No fountain of youth restores the waters of life
And we excrete ourselves through our sweat cum blood saliva
Until we have nothing else to let out.
The clay people dry up fastest,
Even though time with them feels longest,
With their terracotta personalities –
Inflexible, choking and stagnant –
And those who become the tides of change
Live fastest and best.
The stars and you
Your white dress gripped your body
like melting snow hugged the sidewalks
And the feelings of the night invaded
Everyone lucky enough to see you.
You had matching heels on and
You didn’t get to wear them often.
The moon and stars are always beautiful
But they were playing second fiddle for the night
And they could have exploded without
Me noticing.
There was a warmth about you that made
Any thoughts of cold unthinkable
And unfeelable,
But maybe that was from sensory overload.
You dominated the night without trying
And I imagine even the sun
-hidden underneath the world and our feet-
Was jealous or in love.
We walked wet streets
Grass peaking out
And drunk kids wandering by,
even the most beautiful of them
Must have felt like old rotting hags.
Big, endless eyes beamed your soul
Into my baby blues and we smiled often
There is no description for when
Souls collide and caress another,
But we felt ours coming alive.
Life is mostly colourless,
Often blurry and fuzzy,
But the right mix of inner and outer beauty
Is never out of focus or the colour of life.
You radiated colour
Love
Life,
And I hope the world doesn’t consume you.
Andy Veilleux 