Category Archives: loneliness

traffic in-head

Image

look down

scolded 

fireworks are nowhere to be found

nor sounds to hold dear

nor scapegoats running near.

 

you might shy away.

I know I am

lonely

ashamed

imbalanced

closed down.

going somewhere?

This train's destination is Cleveland Circle

photograph: (C) AB Troen ~ Last 380 Hours

wooosh she’s near

one step back

click and snap

smiling scraps.

fingers letting go of

closing doors that show no

cares for long goodbyes or bags

forgotten on the borderlines.

windows smudged with hearts and fears

reflecting past too close, too dear.

then coming from the car nearby

is strumming – no more tears, no cry,

which summons like that piper once

to follow waves of joy, of pleasure,

reaching in, relieving deadweight

freeing empty spaces aching.

inhaling, exhaling…

aimlessly aiming.

craving creating.

stuck in chains chaining,

naval chord threatening.

screech screens screams.

swallow – choke.

slow release

here it goes…

open doors.

down

the steps.

felicity?


~ claudia schoenfeld host of Poetics tonight at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, offering song and drinks to lift up spirits and challenges to about trains… this is my entry.

WARNING!!!

*** Drinks on me! Read and enjoy a dVerse community of voices at #OpenLinkNight, hosted by Joe Hesch . I’ve struggled painfully with this one… Also, for some reason the spaces between paragraphs keep disappearing from the posted version…  ***
*******

the darkness of the deep

unpredictable waters. murky

 oceans.

too black to see.

lurk in shadows,

wait for moment…

is it ever?

shade is all but blinding.

scribble this, scribble that.

          [no sense.

           just make pretty!

                                        (yes, I know…

                                                               … been there. done that).]

never dare to uN-

f o   l d    the     once     sorted         and…

clean. no. Not – “clean“.

i never did fit in.

from side-doors I slip in, and

seek to find

“it”.

i, a shadow they made

from their blades

i bled and fled, always

wishing i were

dead.

break. toss. screw. chuck.

bolt. force. dare to

smile or use that seventh or ninth.

i thirst for red notes.

all my true creations

live light in dark. sometimes,

parts            of            me…        are too sharp for

s        o       m     e            to       s   e   e…

the           lUNa        comes

OUT     (shout?)        of the moon

on writes like these.

excuse me,

it’s too long… it’s just that

so many days and nights

                                                (night and day…)

I’ve been shadowing black and

blues.                    (love those blues).

trying too much to UN-

fold?

bruised and

confused?

the darkness of the deep

unpredictable waters.

you got your warning.

now –

RUN AWAY!

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