sorrow

This was written after experiencing a personal loss. At the time I wrote this, poetry was primarily just a pressure valve for strong emotions. But, still, this piece hints at some undeveloped potential.

sorrow

I

there sometimes exists inside
to utmost depths
nameless pains
agonies indescribable

they dwell within
beyond conscious reach
or understanding
swelling unexpressed

they taint each day
without our knowing
swallowing countless joys
destroying countless hopes

all unwitting we go through life
and from time to time
it wells forth a mighty urge
…and we push it away

push it back from whence it came
into the blackness
that place we dare not look
within our selves

…and there it struggles
seeking tirelessly to be known
seeking endlessly its acknowledgement
…and we go through life

we grow callous and bitter
cynical, untrusting and wary
it wears us down from within
eating away our organs and tissues

…because we will not see it
will not acknowledge it
this fantastic force of nature
this inexplicable force of emotion

it destroys us from within
…our denial grows stronger
it thrashes inside us
in its maddened struggle for release

it slowly tears at our organs
weakens our bones
rips our muscles and ligaments
…bit by bit it shreds our sanity

…as it struggles to find release
we go insane in our avoidance
unwilling to face it or accept it
unwilling to see it
 

II

a betrayal, a loss
always some form of loss
we are taught not to accept it
to say it doesn’t matter

just to grit the teeth and bare it
just to carry on in spite of it
just to push it down and pretend
pretend it doesn’t matter

but it does – and always will
it will never cease to matter
as our denial robs us of our sensitivity
turns our hearts into cold grey stones

we convince ourselves this is right
that we are becoming stronger
learning to protect ourselves
that this is what everyone does

perhaps this is true…
a great many kill themselves this way
pretending it isn’t there
that the pain doesn’t matter

that it’s not important
that it doesn’t deserve our attention
our unwavering acceptance
that it’s not okay to accept it

over time we master this art
this art of avoidance and denial
of pretending we’re okay
that the pain is trivial

…we choose not to see it
how it swallows our hearts and souls
yearning for recognition
striving for acceptance
 

III

it is our loss
the loss of a loved one or friend
the loss of a hope or dream
it is our sorrow and grief

we are told it is bad
that there is something wrong with us
that we shouldn’t feel it
the pain and emptiness

we are told to ignore it – put it away
make like it’s not there
that it doesn’t deserve our attention
that it’s unimportant

rarely are we told that it’s okay
to feel it and simply cry
let it well up from the hurt place inside
and bare forth its reality of loss

rarely are we told that it’s okay
to allow it into our voice
a crackling sound, a wailing pain
to wear it on our face like a hungry infant

to let it twist our lips
quiver our chin and cheeks
let it furrow our brow full of hurt
turning our face into a wellspring of pain

rarely is it mentioned that it will pass
that the flow of agonizing pain will cease
that if we let it rupture our composure
telling ourselves it will be okay – over and over

that if we release the horror of grief
and comfort ourselves as we cry
it will pass and everything will be okay
the sorrow passes

that when it does pass
colors sharpen and beauty becomes electric
joy becomes real and unfettered
and we learn an unmanipulative compassion

that when it does pass
we truly are stronger
more willing to feel
more willing to live

but no-one told us
and we don’t realize
so long as we trap it inside
it never, ever will pass

so long as we imprison our pain
it will slowly rend us asunder
as it finds expression despite ourselves
forcing us constant agony
 

IV

men don’t cry
only women and sissies cry
call me a sissy you bastard
that’s fine

this is my pain not yours
get away from me
go ahead and deny yourself life
i can’t change you

when i need to i will cry
i will let my face contort from the grief
i will tell myself it’s okay
that everything will be okay

i’ll assure myself that it will pass
that it’s okay to feel it
that it’s important and real
that the feelings are real and okay

and when it’s over
when the shuddering sobs cease
when the release of emotion has finished
i’ll go eat a fantastic fudge sundae

i’ll admit to myself that it really hurt
and eat the damned sundae like it matters
enjoying every bite
savoring every moment of its delightfulness

it doesn’t fulfill an expectation
it just comforts me
my heart raw from feeling
feeling such depth of emotion

it is a validation
an acknowledgement
that it was, is and will be okay
that i really do accept it

and when i see the sunset
a full moon on a clear night
a spectacular cloudscape on the horizon
a beautiful flower garden or woman

my heart will leap out at them
in unrestrained joy and delight
because i accepted within myself
accepted without reservation my sorrow

because i accepted the grief and the pain
i accept also my joy
and become free to know what it really is
because i let go of the sorrow

and it was okay

Treasure

This was written to a woman who’s name I have forgotten. She used to attend a music and poetry open mic I went to in Cotati, California, an hours drive south of Ukiah, where I lived at the time. If you read this poem and then turn around and read a more recent poem, you’ll see that my approach to the art has changed dramatically over the years.

Treasure

I could swear
I dreamed of you
Long ago…
But a dream
So long forgotten…
Lost

Lost perhaps
With the incredible loss
Of hope
Love
Life…
So much more…

There was
So much devastation
In my heart
My spirit
My mind
In all that I am
Utter devastation
Of the thing
That once I was…

This
Was long ago
Seemingly
Endless ages
Past and faded
In the mists of another time
Now even half forgotten
Mostly forgotten
Pushed from memory
For the sake
Of living

But that dream…
I know
You were there
Flashing
Your brilliant smile
Calming the turmoil
Of my spirit
Thrilling to life
My zombie heart
Like a wondrous sunset
Blazing on mountains
Clouds and seas and lakes
Haunting my thoughts
My heart
With fancies of love
And tenderness

Then…
Then…..
The cataclysmic devastation…
That rendered my heart
And all that I was
Asunder

It came to pass
I stopped believing
Refused to believe
You existed

In the years
Seemingly countless years
That have come to pass
As my heart
Began to mend
In the impossible aftermath
Of that devastation
The soul-shattering devastation
Miracle of miracles
My shredded heart
Shattered soul
Broken spirit
Began to heal

Still I chose
To lock you from me
All of me
My heart
My hopes
My dreams

And that dream
So long ago
Wherein you thrilled
My feeble heart
With your beauty
Your remarkable beauty
Your genuine beauty

I rendered it from me
That dream
To survive
I rendered
The thought and fancy
From my mind
The hope from my heart
I had no choice
At the time
I could not live
If I held onto the hope
That you were real

Yet…
It would seem
Your touch within me
Through this forgotten dream
Through the unchartable destruction
Of all I was
All that I ever
Had the chance to be

It would seem
Your touch within me
Lost in the sordid haze
Of every imaginable pain
All conceivable hells
Remained

Your remarkable touch
Within this that I am
Remained
Through it all

Now
I begin to remember
It was so long ago
So abysmally long ago
I would permit
Myself to dream
Of one such as you

Now
Here you are
And I stand
Deeply inspired
Touched
In all that I am
Inspired
To believe
Hope
And dream

Perhaps
I am stronger now
Perhaps
I will venture to dream
Once again
And hope within

Perhaps
It is time
I let my heart dream
And hope
Once and for all
For one
Such as you
For love
Such as yours

Deception

This poem actually won me a series of dates with a woman I was curious about at the time. It might have become serious, but I was adamantly dedicated to a period of celibacy at the time, and I said some ridiculous things to explain my reasons, so we ended up becoming friends. She later got married to a rich person, as I understand it.

Deception

You seem to assume
To know me
Who I am
What I am
My intentions
My purpose

You cannot know
The impossible life
Behind this that I am
You cannot know
Or begin to know
This that I am

I sought only to learn
A little about you
For when first I saw you
My heart was touched
You were as a sunset
Gleaming on the clouds
With impossible splendor
And I was touched
I heard you speak
Words with depth
Knowledge and understanding
The sunset on which I gazed
Grew even more splendid
I sought only to learn more
About this sunset

Perhaps you assume
To know my aim
Thinking it must be
To win your heart
And know your form
Perhaps you believe
That my goal
A simple roll in the sack

No…
In the years
That make my life
I have learned
Bitter lessons
Hard lessons
Many lessons
Lessons of the heart
Tearing and dismal lessons
Of the heart
Lessons of understanding
Of the soul

Amongst my teachings
That which life has taught
This that I am
I have learned
To reach with my heart
When touched
To seek greater understanding
When charmed
Held in the terrific splendor
Of a gleaming sunset
Even at great risk
Risk of rejection
Misunderstanding
Or even discovering
That the sunset
Was but a reflection
Of my standing hope
For a sparkling diamond
In the rough

I know
You will see me
Through the powerful filter
Of your experience
Perhaps this experience
Has never seen
Known
The likes of me
Perhaps you find it difficult
To believe
My aim
My goal
Was simply
To take the time
To learn about you

This has been the way
With me
It seems
I am often
Misunderstood

So
Think what you will
Of me
Fortress yourself
Within your assumptions
Lay guesses and ponderings
About this that I am
Rather than venturing
To learn
And understand
Solace your heart
With the belief
That I
Fit within your understanding
That I
Am like any other man
Just some bloke
Looking for affection
A piece of ass
Convince yourself
That I am not genuine
Honest or real
Truly interested
In learning
About the person
You are
In just taking the time
To get to know you
Choose to believe
That I
Perhaps even all men
Are driven
Solely on instinct
To mate
Only interested
In playing
The necessary games
To win your affection

Not all men
Are wired this way
But perhaps
You may never realize this
Safely fortressed
Behind your blinding assumptions
Behind your veil
Your filter
Of deception