I miss... 3.11.07, John Einselen
I miss not holding your hand,
as the trees change colour and the wind chills the bone…
I miss being huddled together in the park,
an afternoon walk cut short by quiet whispers in lovers code…
I miss never having tea with you,
sitting cross legged on a porch and sipping something sweet.
And the artifice is gone, and nothing is all that’s left…
I miss not having gone to church with you,
and an afternoon nap where we didn’t have to say a word…
I miss seeing your sleeping form,
as I stay up late polishing a project and smiling to myself…
I miss never knowing the closeness,
that you and I have needed so much…
And being alone now makes it clear, that being surrounded isn’t the same, as being near you…
I miss listening to music,
and dancing to a song that makes me want to cry…
I miss the things we might have done,
the places we could have gone, the food we would have eaten…
I miss you, and wonder…
will you ever miss me?
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When I loved you 12.05.07, John Einselen
When I loved you, and you loved him,
and none of us could know,
the times to come, the waves to crash,
the stormy winds to blow…
When I loved you, and you loved him,
the world so sweetly calm,
the pain just starting, slowly building,
tuning for the dirge and psalm…
When I loved you, and you loved him,
and nothing could go on,
I had to resign, to thoughtless grief,
and find another song…
When you loved him, and I loved naught,
the quaking, beating drowned,
silent heart and muddled tears, and there I was,
laying dead upon the ground.
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Painful 12.05.07, John Einselen
An easy question,
simple,
soft,
and stinging.
They ask me,
interfere,
intrude,
and wonder.
Painful to remember,
recall,
relive,
and rekindle.
A single face,
loved,
lost,
and hated.
Yet it’s there,
still,
stubborn,
and silent.
Waiting not for me,
waned,
withdrawn,
but remembered.
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Time and Change 3.03.07, John Einselen
Time has passed and things have changed,
water under the bridge, or so some say,
words unshared and thoughts unchained,
and paths more separate by the day.
Long since late nights, and cups of tea,
and memories of tears, but we let them be.
Perhaps content in mere retrace,
of cashmere lines and casualness,
but never recall the damp disgrace,
or listen for signs of tenderness.
We’ve left the ocean, the endless sea,
to forget the ever dredged debris.
Long time since we were both together,
hunkered down and snug as friends.
Must we now discuss the weather,
idle gossip, and our coffee blends?
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A bad day 20.07.06, John Einselen
a bad day,
maybe a year.
as the trees bud,
and bloom,
and leaves grow
dark and green.
I find the longer days,
are feeling short.
and the eyes are hanging dull.
and as the traffic flows,
and ebbs and weaves.
and coats are welcomed,
yet again.
a bad day,
maybe a year.
oh the trials, and woes, and pains.
surely a person grows,
digs deep.
their will strengthened,
and arms holding fast.
a bad day,
perhaps just in my head,
and so, never ending.
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To choose this life 14.07.06, John Einselen
To choose this life,
of loneliness.
Forgotten, or alone.
What must one do?
The choices made,
the attitude applied.
preparing for a role.
In the theater,
acting out a tragedy.
With the actor as only audience.
What must one do?
How to alienate,
remove, and seclude.
to choose this life…
What must one do?
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Sit down 14.07.06, John Einselen
go there.
go here, and come.
sit down.
let a person sigh.
you’ve felt.
you’ve lost, and now.
the insides.
tied up, and sad.
no option.
no out, but through.
though darkness.
maybe an end.
Really like this poem, it has a really nice flow to it. Keep up the good work mate
Mat (UK)