The Poet's Mind Field

Dearest love, I see thee in the rain, dancing to the sound, that song for which we loved, I dare not close my eyes for you shall disappear from my vision, that dream that I shall see. I wish you were still here, for me to touch, to feel your body close to mine. Dreamless wonders fall apart, dare not weep, for one last kiss upon thy sweet lips, the song, our song, plays on, I grasp thee in my arms and we dance to that song, a memory. I would be lying if I said I did not miss you, to hold you one more time.  I go on with my life, I shall say, but every day I miss you, more and more, that smile, delight. Where do I go from here? I cry in the middle of the night. What would I say to you if I  could be with you one more night, lying in the dark, your head on my chest, listening to me breath. I love you. I miss you.

The words, They do not matter, But the sentences, They matter. The knife, It does not matter, But the wound it causes, Does the most matter. Heaven, That place of peace, Only way there, Through death, A bitter sadness, To reach that peace, For those left behind. Standing in a rain, Sadness washed away, Through tears, Not allowed to hit the ground below. The ground opened up, And swallowed us, Whole, To sink below the waves, Our hands waving not hello, But we were drowning. I did not mean to cause you any sorrow, Didn't mean to cause you any pain, All I wanted to see is to see you laughing, There, In that rain, Alive, To hear you say my name, To feel your lips on mine, There, In that rain. I could not think a life without you, Here, In this life, Without you, There, Here, Where? I love you more each day, I love you even in the pain, Without you. Standing in the rain, Weeping, For these hours, days, Without you, Now I'm dying alone, Here, T...

It felt like a bullet to the head, A pain of a memory, Deep in the heart, Raging in the brain, Better off dead, Found him face down, In his pillow, A song, Beneath the willows, Not enough whiskey To kill that pain, That memory. Who stood at the back of the room? He sat there, at the back of the bar, drinking his fifth whiskey, straight.  Lies became the truth, like those memories, slowly fading in the distance, a small trip down the road, stumbling, catching the railing, up the stairs. He fell into bed, drifted off into a weary sleep, fleeing from the nightmares of life, not wanting to wake up. Tonight, that random night, good night, he felt his hand shaking, grabbing the glass. She did so much better than him, but it still hurt, sitting there, at the bar, the place, those memories. Sleep much? The bartender slid him another drink, frowning at the mess of the man sitting there. "Hello stranger?" Hi. Bye. He stood up, stumble forward, tried ...

Dances in dreams, Running through stars, We sat in the garden, Drinking gasoline, Freedom from death, From that life, Which we do not see, To not hear, Run, Freely into happiness, Released from the dredge, The non harmonic plies of that life, Chains thrown off, In fits of rage, Cry, oh darkness, cry, Away, You bastards! Sea foam, Green, Bases covered in rust, Graffiti, angry words, Thrown from the balcony, To the crowd gather below, Rain falling, acidic, burning skin, Fear that which we do not understand, Do not care to understand, Throw up untruth, To keep that despair from ruining our lives. We drank gasoline, limes, To kill our minds, Those memories, Despair reached out, Falling, Forward, Into dark, That deep lake, Drowning us, Wishing to not hear our cries. We tried, To swim up, The chains upon our ankles, Held us down, To the bottom, We wanted to breathe, But in our mind, We were trapped, In madness, Our happiness fake, Masks worn to h...

Madness Define A Declaration of the World to the World  - A Scene in two parts - BY Samuel Stiggens III There, somewhere, trapped in time and space, a place inside his mind, the poet sits, drinking his wine, twirling his hair around his finger as his other hand writes, madness really, stuff, thrown like pasta to the wall, to see if it sticks! Anger stripped, mindless banter, into the wind, to be carried forth from his witless wit, his pondering of life's events, from the smoke filled bars of Chapeltown, to that romance that was not to be, to his life currently, among the natives, that he observes so carefully. Measurements of time, in increments, spaced perfectly on heart filled pages, memories, distant, flying through a space filled with madness, dreams, cancelled checks from strip clubs where women named Jewels and Kandy twirl upon silver polished poles to the songs of the ages. "She's my cherry pie!!" The madness seeps into th...