O vehement artist,
What secrets do you keep?
In each splash and splatter,
What insights do you reap?

From your brush fall gentle
Droplets of Persian blue,
Riddling the papyrus
With a sumptuous clue.

Rivulets of color
Drift razzly down the page
Dancing with bravado
Like actors on a stage.

The murky, azure paint
Gives way to curious shapes,
Soon to evolve into
Soothing, luscious landscapes.

This humble masterpiece
Warrants credence in art.
For art’s a divine gift
To both the eyes and heart.

Memories, memories,
Demons destined to remind!
Memories, memories,
Extricate them from my mind!

Alas! They echo toward me
As ripples in the brain.
Evoked by love and roses
They prickle me insane.

Oh, I remember…

The hour summons a restless, withered afternoon
During which I succumbed to ravenous decay.
I desperately chased feelings like an unhinged loon,
Swifting through my pond in fear, panic, and dismay.

Impeccable beauty
& fanciful expectation:
I was thwarted by both.

Each summoned its own
Distinct, rolling shadow.

Oh I remember…

I was washed forth by whistling tides of tomorrow,
Clinging to a heart I could not own or borrow.
My feelings, whisked in transit, dizzied by the fray,
Yearned for second chances to conquer yesterday.

Gelid gloom would
Permeate my heart,
Tearing me apart.

Haunted by a feeling
I could not possess,
I drowned in
Darkness.

Oh I remember...

Loneliness was chronic; slowly it tapped time;
My life become a poem lacking voice and rhyme.
As silent afternoons would coalesce into years,
My dreams burst into smoke & hope thawed into tears.

Memories, memories,
Are nothing more than that.
Memories, memories,
****, ****, ****!

I do not wish to remember,
But dare not to forget
Moments that once plagued me:
Moments I regret.

No matter how strong be my will,
These memories will haunt me still.

**Oh how I wish not to remember...

Like early morning dew,
Your peppy lips doth gleam
In sun-blessed scarlet hue,
To seize my heart’s esteem.  

Like a evening star
Your silvery eyes doth shine
Through space and time afar
In elegant design.

Though you adore me not,
Fidelity goes on.
My darling I cannot
Admit thy love is gone.

Though from thy heart I am expelled,
My love for you shall not be quelled.

What is it like to know that someone truly cares?
What is it like to know your heart is safely theirs?*

Mutual affection is an eternal tease,
Intended to beguile a person to their knees.
Affection sedates a cold, agonizing end;
A bitter rejection which one cannot transcend.

Why must it be so difficult to find romance?
Why is the world so quick to deny one the chance?

The lonely ones zealously thirst for tomorrow,
Convinced that they can withstand the “fleeting” sorrow.
These spirits gallop to taste love’s succulent sip.
But shatter at the crack of reality’s whip.

How’d loneliness become a beast I could not tame?
How’d I become a victim of love’s vicious game?

A lingering heart can only dream for so long
Before it abandons its resolve to stay strong.
It withers while it drifts into acquiescence,
Lamenting over hope’s whispered evanescence

Once when I was young,* I was told you could swing so high you'd be able to just *fly away.  

   I learned early on
               That not everything we're told is true
               The fantastical can sometimes amount to a pile of plastic bags scattered in the wind
                    The end isn't always happy and there's not always closure
      Punctuations are more often question marks than definitive periods
                And looking for a definite explanation took prevalence over allowing our imaginations to fill in the blanks.
         Play time was replaced with study time,
             And before we knew it, it was time for work
                      We strayed from the playgrounds of our youth,
      Never returning to the top of the slide, we'd hit the ground a bit too hard to keep the enchantment of seemingly endless possibilities going
                                              Carriages became pumpkins long before midnight,
              And the school bell rang before we could finish our fun
                       But to tell the truth, sometimes,
     When everyone else has gone inside, back to the real world, full of logic and banalities,
         I sit on the old swingset kicking my feet
    Hoping it will let me *soar

Forever flows fast like a turbulent river,
Carving through each tomorrow with
A wild and ruthless expediency.

We are merely paper ships,
Flimsy and vulnerable in its
Tenacious waters.

Though some may stray off course
At the perpetual shift of the current,
Or crumple at the beleaguering
Of a ferocious wave,
Most will carry on.

But during some blessed moments,
When the breeze cools still
And the waves subside into placid ripples,
We may float tranquilly downstream,
At peace with our existence.

But alas, paper ships are
Cursed with a limited mortality.
Eventually we will each plummet
Silently into the murky depths of the river,
Casualties of its never ceasing flow.

If every moment,
Like a seashell tossed on a rocky beach,
is made to shatter,
And feelings are not meant to last forever,
Does anything truly matter?

If our fates have been fixed,
And our actions are dictated
By manuscripts,
Is free-will just a romanticized
fantasy?

Must I live a life of acquiesce,
Allowing myself to be prodded by the waves?
Must my time merely consist of
Futile attempts to squeeze into
A procrustean bed?

Are there no dreams,
So inciting and mellifluous,
Worth fighting for?
Is there any sense in
Pretending to be free?

I am not content to sit back and watch
My future drift away like a ship at sea.
I can be passive no longer.
Though my efforts may be unavailing,
I will grapple with the current,
Claiming sovereignty.
And if I am to fail,
Let me plummet like an anchor,
Into the dark, liquid,
Abyss.