Category: poems

(FREE VERSE, written in 2007, but never published)

‘Aegri Somnia’ (in Latin this translates to ‘A sick an dreams’)

This sanctuary I have chosen, once so inspiring and profound, has become my prison to that I am bound.

Forever allowing me to gain entrance into the night, like the prey of the waiting spider, she knows I must turn to her in my plight. Walk her grounds and see the names of those she has taken within her arms, those that hear my footsteps can hear my thoughts, for my tears awaken them to both, and they awaken to pose the question silently…”Is he lost?”

Perhaps they too once walked with me. I cannot avoid them. They are curious of me and always wishing to converse with me. Some are more coarse than they are pleasant. Perhaps this prison we inhabit has become a haven of discontentment. Perhaps some think my presence is cause for them to lament. There are many voices in such a place of those who have no choice but to be silent.

Some are curious of life, and others lament the lack of it. Some are mournful, others are forewarning, and some wish me to be their friend. Some plead for me not to repeat their misfortunes, and others beg the question “Why?” Those I can converse with all share one crisis in common: they physically are unlike me. They are not flesh like I. I share not their home, and those who lament my presence take satisfaction knowing that I too shall be shackled to the very womb within our earth where their home will also one day be my own.

And then as I walk, I sense something I have sensed each time I travel this quiet town of mine. I sense torture and decay. The kind of stench that can only come from the conversations of black eyes and even blacker hearts. Their sinister whispers can be heard from a distance, but faintly enough I somehow sense their meanings…They are truly the demons I have been breeding.

They beg me to entertain them, implore me to engage them and invite me to become them. Offering me all the wishes the flesh adore. To hear the voices I long to hear, to take away all of my childish fears, to make those familiar faces reappear. They offer me these beautiful familiarities and so much more. They offer me to be judged, and found guilty never more…to see all I have longed to see and more…

Their gentle whispers find a home within my lonely soul. They reach a point of no return and ask me pay their woeful toll, uttering the words that they require to be upon my stone. So I can then fulfill my dreams and thus call this place home. Never to leave and in a world of unknowns I’m assured, I’ll be home, and for this gift I may no longer search or drift.

As I dream of their lies, I remember these words that come true to those only who died. Yet I hear in my heart just a whispering voice of someone no longer alive…he is begging of me to never give up, but is pleading instead to “Please try”. This voice I hear seems known to me…perhaps this voice is kin to me. I cannot make out the words, for these violent foes harken their sins to me…but this voice calls out to something within…I must find the origin of this voice of reason. Who does this voice belong to? Why do these black hearts speak of this voice and mention treason?

I search all over trying to silence these vicious hounds of hell. I try to hear in place of them the voice in my heart I know well. The voice to whom their shouts will say, “Silence! He is ours! His direction is the curiosity of our dissension! Do not attempt to gain his attention! Lead him not, for his soul is ours, and soon here he will rot!” I make my mind blank and focus instead upon the voice with the loving words…I try to follow the voice in question by asking, “Are you of honorable mention? Do you have reason to speak to me to discuss prevention? If so dear voice, may I give you a name? Can I venture to say that we share the same? If not dear sir, have I wronged you? Is your distance the torture of this life’s part two? Do you speak to me in worry and need with the wisdom to impart to?”

“I must again ask you, why hide your voice? Is it forced or is it by your choice? May I beg to question this and more? Have we shaken hands before? Why do you wish to keep so obscured? Is your voice the voice that once assured? Why must we play this silly game? Just tell me sir, what is your name? Please speak louder so I can know. Do they hide you because I love you so?” Angels above me please remove these distortions…allow me please to hear but a portion….I wish for my mind to have full absorption.

As my footsteps fall to a calmer gait, my heart begins to slow its rate, as now I’ve discovered our signature trend. To speak at night and at mornings end; and now as always I will survive the day to be there in the evenings so that our minds may play. I continue my quest for our words unsuppressed, in search of my most sought after friend. Every night is the same. We leave clues in this game, but if you bear a familiar name…I can only hope I share the same.

I am incomplete
Many things
I do not have
One by one
Each thing will come
And I will be complete

A queen in my eyes
Is clean within inside
Conscious of her life
Her strength moves mountains
A tornado within her storm
Climbs to the horizons
And moves the clouds
Her pain strikes lightning
To move the ground
Her heart is courageous
In silence she’s sound
Of art innovating
Kneels to the ground

Close your eyes

I am right there, close your eyes,
feel this, feel my finger tips, they are fascinated
by your skin while stroking your spine,
feel me breathing down the back of your legs,
kissing the tops of your shut eyes,
pulling your face in towards mine.
this is almost a kiss, this air between our lips
is one breath. As your shirt slides
onto the bed, and my head falls upon your breast
I do not care what happens next.

The whole world has agreed to quiet
so I can whisper through my heart,
listen everything is going to be all right.
I will be there in the drop of a dime.
I will dance, until my body is no longer mine
Then I will keep dancing in the clouds
with the best view of the sky. I can live
forever remembering those moments
drifting off in the gaze of your eyes.
the tips of your fingers stroking my palms.

Close your eyes now we are on an
empty plane, toes out of the window,
catching the rain. No where to go
nothing to gain, nothing to loose, Our day.
Our day, Our day to choose, Our day.
All are quiet nothing to say. Just a piano
and a violin playing. Open a well aged bottle of
blush, blowing bubbles on your belly button
barely breathing begging for bare skin to touch
bathing you in coconut lotion, melting into the rub.

Close your eyes, come with me,
everything is ok, Just breath. You are not weak,
Just breath, its a perfect day to be.
starring at your face just you and me. My eyes
are so tired, they are scared to blink.
they are scared to miss a glimpse
of just your finger tips, touching my skin.
forever is to long never to hear you breath again
Close your eyes I am right here always by your
side. I will die for you till there is no longer time.

Spinny Chair

You get in the spinny chair, about to spin,
You know you’re about to spin, but nobody else knows,
You start to spin,
All you are able to see is simple flashes of color and light,
All you are able to hear is splurges of noises and murmured sounds,
You start to get tired, dizzy, and careless,
It soon becomes almost impossible to stop,
All the colors fade to black,
And the murmurs go silent,
Once the spinning stops on its own,
The world becomes blurry again, and simple thoughts hurt your head,
You start to realize,
It’s been hours instead of minutes,
Days instead of hours,
When you try to get up, you’re dizzier than you had imagined,
You’re so exhausted and unfocused,
You don’t even have enough energy to keep your balance,
And then they ask you to remember each detail,
While you barely remember the main event.

Read more poems and short stories here.

Click here to view the great poetry video submitted by Amber Basares!

I speak truth, heartache , love and political notation. I am like a love potion leaving you hypnotized by my movements of flow, transfixed on my words as they leave my master’s lips heads moving like in ectasy , trying to understand the deepnes  of my lines, the very movements as we connect an d flow as one.

I am forever changing, evolving.

        I am poetry

I am the ghost of botany bay
I sit in the oaks and watch you play
You search for shells and walk the beach
Just short of being within my reach
I look out across the sea
A sad existence is for me
Alone I walk this desolate place
I pine to see my true loves face
But alas I have to wait
For His return who deemed my fate
For once with just a flashing whim
I made a wish as heard by Him
If when I die this lovely place
That I should haunt to be my space

Concave
Pummeled from the pressure
Crushed in a way
3 atm can’t make a deposit
Doesn’t talk much
Talks too much
Can’t really tell, can’t really decide
Because they tend to think of these pipe-laden dreams as unsettling
Self-medicating isn’t real medicating
But sometimes I just like to take some time
Watch the water for a spell
Reverberations, energy pulse
Or is that just me getting in my philosophical feels
Because i like to think a lot
Overthought from these drawn out processes
And each detail is traced to perfection
But still sometimes i get this uneasy feeling
Because i didn’t take time to watch the water for a spell

We all end up somewhere
Coming to these crossroads
End of the street, back to the house we used to break into at night
But we were just kids we said
Just getting the jitters out
Because we are young and free
But we all have to grow up at some point
Float through it, drifters fade through those cracks that seem second nature
Coming home to the place we were meant to be all along
They say home is where the heart is
Wipe your feet and come through this door
Because there is no dirt in his house
Complete and shining bright of exaltation
Incomparable


Contact

Send us a poem, or tell us about an event!

Name
Email
Message

Yay! Message sent.
Error! Oops. Something went wrong.
© Copyright Marcus Amaker Design