Garden of Roses

There's a garden of roses
outside of my room
and the roses do grow
while new flowers bloom.
I keep planting more,
the flowerbed grows
with every new
and perfect rose.
But the problem is,
with perfection that is,
that roses will wilt
against every wish.
Into time's arms
the roses will fall;
eventually, each of them,
one and all.
But such is the grandness
of precious life:
it's filled with ups
and downs and strife.
It's the way that it is,
the way that life goes
for every single
perfect rose.
So forever, I
will plant one more;
an eternal garden
at my door,
and maybe time
will grant just one
that never wilts,
or until I'm done
it will survive,
a perfect rose
in sync with my
own crooked nose.
I don't need perfect,
just perfection
to echo me,
be my reflection.
I will wait
until it grows
amongst my flowers:
my perfect rose.

On the Grapevine

My life is spent here

in the dark,

watching reds

and counting cards;

sending thoughts

and dreams and hopes

into the fire

and the smoke

in hopes that out

the other side,

I will see my life

glorified.

I'd rather pity

than to be

behind a cloak

and never seen.

I know it's wrong

to feel this way -

after all, what would

my others say?

But the storm that keeps

inside my mind

is one that doesn't

fade with nights.

I'll love and fall

and start anew

until those reds

fade into blue.

Virtulove?

Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?
I once placed hope beyond the screen
and ended up with ev’rything
that I cared for and I hoped for lost,
with dreams that forced to turn and toss.
I vowed to push lust to a place
and with it, that same screen away.
Now, in days where I can feel
that I am free of sin and devil,
in days where I feel I have won,
I see that same screen once again.
I do not think it is the same,
but there is yet no simple way
for innocence to recognise 
the diff’rence ‘tween two sets of eyes.
Can one set truly be those eyes
which I have yearned for, day and night?
Do I trust in a world of sin
that love can be a happening?

Sentimental

The waves between two foreign lands

Halt destined love from coming to,

But on those shores where lovers stand

Are hearts that beat with purpose and truth.

For now, they wait with bated breath

Until horizons disappear;

They’d hope for love until their death

When free souls could, at last, be near.

Such a heart is hell to find,

For true love is a miracle,

But when the heart does truly find

Such never, then forever’s real.

    Let men claim heaven is fantasy;

    They’ve never felt what I have seen.

A Lesson On Love; or why my heart hurts.

Love is a complex thing, made of
time, growth, and experiences.
They can not be spoken of independently,
but such is the lesson today.

Time

Many have seen my writings of
an angel; she entered my life three
years ago to bring me
heaven and hell.

A seeming never ending saga began
in a chapel and a corridor. But I convinced myself of certain things
so that I would not fall.

Time goes on and so do I,
views change and so do I,
the world changes and so do I.
Time changes and my feelings glide

to new and unknowable, unthinkable
heights. I guess falling is not meant
for intention. So unintentionally,
unwittingly, uncontrollably, I fell.

Time has brought it's ups and downs,
created strange paths to hurt or
help the unsuspecting. Time has not
been kind, yet kinder than all.

Today is the feeling I had yesterday,
except more powerful than
tomorrow's could ever have
been conceived.

The problem with stopping 'now'
is that tomorrow will come. Destiny
can only be postponed for a
moment of forever.

Growth

When the angel first appeared, I
was a man (or boy?) of God. My,
how things have changed. Cynicism
and existentialism have lead my way

following a clarification on reality.
This moved me from faith to
confusion as my world fell down
beside me, a new world dawning.

Finally, a lesson was learnt on the
ability to find happiness with or
without and wherever you
happened to be. What a truth!

Faith and hope were gone to be
replaced by questions and laughter.
Friends were made and a light
rekindled; a love grown.

We understood each other more
with the absence of invisible beings.
We could speak of joyous things
with the absence of invisible beings.

Yet some things did not change;
I am unsure whether my hand
reaches for nothing, or if we are
passing lights on an empty road.

Whichever we were,
whatever we are,
our paths have still not crossed
and nothing has changed.

Experiences

And yet how everything changes
in the dream of a solitary night. Well,
let us begin at the fore before the
dream of that solitary night.

It's never been more than casual conversation,
that's fine by me. At first it was
nothing more than a chat in a corridor,
while she mistakenly pulled my heartstrings.

It was followed by unmet invitations
(why did I not make the most of chance?!),
and invisible, technological,
empty conversations.

Finally, we meet again amidst a time
of social emptiness on my part. Oh,
the joy that she brought to a
lifeless, broken heart.

We would meet again, and the
New Year was not as terrible as
it could have been. Talking and
wanting and cliches coming true.

Things slowed down, but my feelings
did not. I would wait, look forward to
the meetings of tomorrow, the times
to see and talk and hope.

Daydreams would pass my way
and stories would fill my mind.
But I still yet wait for reality
to catch up with my dreams.

The Dream Of The Solitary Night

I was with my former contemporaries
discussing religion and politics,
apparently it was wrong to form
opinion not dictated by men in suits.

I looked outside to see a field filled
with more of those formers, and I
knew that she must be among them.
I searched and I searched;

my subconscious was on my side.
Her glowing hair, her glowing smile,
she was there in full form as only
she could be, at least to me.

My mother briefly enters and
mutters something (I wonder what
Freud would say?), but disappears
to leave us to our happiness.

I'm about to quote someone in my
usual pretentious way, when she
says to me, "I'm going to lean in
and kiss you now."

And she did.

It was amazing and perfect and
more than I could have dreamed.
I forgot my words when forever
broke, and she left with my heart again.

But it was a dream, just a dream.
My subconscious torturing me yet
again. I don't know what to do now,
but I hope for yesterday's dream tonight.

It's Your Definition That Defines Your Destiny

Love is not defined by the
space between two lovers.
Love is not defined by the
time between two lovings.
Love is defined by the
actions in that time,
it is defined by continued
desire between those worlds.
If the world claims that reality
prevents love 'tween space and time,
tell the world to go to hell
and live the dream we can't believe.

The Embrace

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqvq1jpXFUA

Today I tried writing a poem of love,
of what true, real, raw love is.
I knew in my heart exactly what it was,
I knew in my heart exactly what I wanted to write.
But that's just it; love can not be written.
We can try and explain our feelings
and the way we feel about those who matter most,
but at the heart of it, love is found in the heart.
It's not the flowers, the soft toys and souvenirs.
It's not the outfits and making sure we look perfect.
In the end, the only tell-tale sign of love is not found
in words, deeds or actions. It is found in the only
word, the only deed, the only action. We know
that love is found only in the embrace.

To Know And Love; the only truth

I have seen visions which I have been told
are not real.
I have held beliefs which have built my foundations
only to be washed away.
I have heard and seen a real-life angel
but never was it mine.
I have touched and kissed the hand of beauty
yet never known love.

If there is one truth, one knowledge that
can be attained in this life,
a truth that can envelope and surround us,
it is the truth of love. But I have never truly known
love, and so I continue in hope, in faith
that I will one day know truth.

Broken Sonnet

A stumble into remnants of
a lost understanding of the world
permits friendships rekindled,
love reunited. But it was not
the same that was felt before.
Friends had become but
foreign strangers; and stranger still
were the friendly strangers
of new. All things do not heal
with time, but everything changes
as the sun rises and falls.
Just the haunting of 'once were''s
and 'never again''s are left
in the chapel. Tomorrow has come.
The melting of time is a reality of now and never.
Let tomorrow always come, and memories last forever.

The Loveless Romantic

As the years have passed
the girls have come and gone.
At first, schoolboy crushes
and then I thought 'the one'.

Love is said to be a two-way street,
but I know what I've felt.
Only few times has a woman
made my heart truly melt.

I've fallen in love
with only a few,
and each time made me better,
made me new.

However, no girl has
ever had the senselessness
to love me back. My heart always
left pained and defenceless.

I will fall again,
I have no doubts,
and who knows?
Maybe the next will end the drought.

I know what it is to love,
to be in love, but to be
in love with someone?
I yet wait to sail that sea.

Who Cares Where It Came From?

KABAM!
It came from out
of nowhere.
Faster than sound,

quicker than light,
bigger than anything;
it's completely nuts,
but you're my everything.

There are things you
can't plan, or understand.
But it all makes sense,
I can't fall ever again.

With you here,
my life will go bananas.
But this way?
I wouldn't have it any other.


Video from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYTQU4KvhJM&ob=av2e