"Always the afterthought, never priority,
I understand what’s in your head..."
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Poet
The noise betrays......
I cannot see,
the ink is smeared -
my pen diseased.
Thoughts are blind
when heart is caught
between two blades...
words, that turn to rot.
I stretch out from the dark......
and try to breathe...
the darkness reaches back for me.
Cannot escape......
the horror...
of that which will not let me be.
The pressure swells......
sinful, devout,
steaming inside -
I need to get this out.
I have to choose
between starving verse
or dying deep within...
I don't know which is worse.
Creations laugh out loud......
foolish dreams...
depriving life bit by degree.
Gamble assured......
once again...
I notice that, they're all laughing at me.
Copyright © 2010 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Included in the e-book, "Walls of Shadow"
Written November 2010
I cannot see,
the ink is smeared -
my pen diseased.
Thoughts are blind
when heart is caught
between two blades...
words, that turn to rot.
I stretch out from the dark......
and try to breathe...
the darkness reaches back for me.
Cannot escape......
the horror...
of that which will not let me be.
The pressure swells......
sinful, devout,
steaming inside -
I need to get this out.
I have to choose
between starving verse
or dying deep within...
I don't know which is worse.
Creations laugh out loud......
foolish dreams...
depriving life bit by degree.
Gamble assured......
once again...
I notice that, they're all laughing at me.
Copyright © 2010 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Included in the e-book, "Walls of Shadow"
Written November 2010
Weary Traveler
"You warred alone...... against that demon,
which lived within - you ignored the cost..."
which lived within - you ignored the cost..."
By The River
As I lay down… by the river,
those waters eternal and fair.
While the cool air… it slides gently,
across
my skin and my hair.
Allow the light of the full moon,
to quench… the thirst of the past,
may the feel of tranquility
absorb -
overcome and surpass…
the fear and… the hopelessness,
that surrounds… my day after day…
let the peace I’ve discovered
rise up… and take me away.
As I wake up… by the river,
the green grass revives and endears.
While the fresh dew… it moves softly,
across
my face and my tears.
Allow the light of the dawn’s sun,
to shift… the indifference within,
may the feel of endurance
embrace -
enhance and begin…
to shield me… from the heartache
that engulfs… my night after night…
let the strength I’ve recovered
rise up… and reclaim my life.
Copyright © 2009 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written February 2009
those waters eternal and fair.
While the cool air… it slides gently,
across
my skin and my hair.
Allow the light of the full moon,
to quench… the thirst of the past,
may the feel of tranquility
absorb -
overcome and surpass…
the fear and… the hopelessness,
that surrounds… my day after day…
let the peace I’ve discovered
rise up… and take me away.
As I wake up… by the river,
the green grass revives and endears.
While the fresh dew… it moves softly,
across
my face and my tears.
Allow the light of the dawn’s sun,
to shift… the indifference within,
may the feel of endurance
embrace -
enhance and begin…
to shield me… from the heartache
that engulfs… my night after night…
let the strength I’ve recovered
rise up… and reclaim my life.
Copyright © 2009 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written February 2009
Home
I’ve been......
hoping for a respite,
an escape from what’s inside,
to put the thoughts I’ve had to rest
and grab a little peace of mind.
For I’m...
searching for a window so
I can see my self-respect,
to turn those mass of voices...
into whispers I forget,
and spend a little time with the
joy of life I knew,
to push aside delusions, with the
things I know are true.
I want to
rise above the constant fear
for a dream to call my own,
and finally find a life I can call
home.
I am......
tired of the struggle,
with all that batters me without,
strung out by the superficial hope
that existence is about.
Now I’m...
desperate for a solid which can
anchor what’s adrift,
to calm the raging waters...
for my own damned benefit,
and achieve a little silence to the
din that works my soul,
to recover the remaining bits, of
what had made me whole.
I want to
eradicate the constant pain
with the lies I have been shown,
and find a piece of me I can call
home.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written March 2008
hoping for a respite,
an escape from what’s inside,
to put the thoughts I’ve had to rest
and grab a little peace of mind.
For I’m...
searching for a window so
I can see my self-respect,
to turn those mass of voices...
into whispers I forget,
and spend a little time with the
joy of life I knew,
to push aside delusions, with the
things I know are true.
I want to
rise above the constant fear
for a dream to call my own,
and finally find a life I can call
home.
I am......
tired of the struggle,
with all that batters me without,
strung out by the superficial hope
that existence is about.
Now I’m...
desperate for a solid which can
anchor what’s adrift,
to calm the raging waters...
for my own damned benefit,
and achieve a little silence to the
din that works my soul,
to recover the remaining bits, of
what had made me whole.
I want to
eradicate the constant pain
with the lies I have been shown,
and find a piece of me I can call
home.
Original Copyright © 2008 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written March 2008
Yesterdays
I feel I’m coming… to a crossroads…
and I don’t like what I see.
Piss-poor decisions,
bad investments,
the choices made are haunting me.
I stand here all alone…
in the maelstrom called my life,
I did not get a manual of wrong
compared to right,
I feel complete abandon and
I cannot make the sense,
of what is coming closer because
of empty confidence,
so I’ll take another stroll along the path
that stirs and sways
and try to fight the pain of yesterdays.
I feel I’m coming… to the harvest…
and I’m reaping what I’ve sown.
Hurt delivered,
the lives I’ve damaged,
to the degree I’ve trashed my own.
The family and friends…
that I believed in disappeared,
the ones that have trusted went away
just as I feared,
those I should have cherished got
ignored and pushed aside,
the map I’ve called my instincts
proved to be a lousy guide,
so I’ll keep moving in and out and
meander through this maze
and try to fight the pull of yesterdays.
I feel I’m coming… to the edge now,
and a gulf I can’t surpass.
Desperation…
hopeless spirit,
loneliness present and past.
I cannot wrap my mind around…
how I ended up with this,
the future of my youth that
dissipated in the mist,
Can’t escape the fear of the anguish
that’s in store,
and the thought that every sunset
will repeat the one before,
so I’ll muster up the courage as
I approach another phase
and try to fight the loss of yesterdays.
Original Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 2007
and I don’t like what I see.
Piss-poor decisions,
bad investments,
the choices made are haunting me.
I stand here all alone…
in the maelstrom called my life,
I did not get a manual of wrong
compared to right,
I feel complete abandon and
I cannot make the sense,
of what is coming closer because
of empty confidence,
so I’ll take another stroll along the path
that stirs and sways
and try to fight the pain of yesterdays.
I feel I’m coming… to the harvest…
and I’m reaping what I’ve sown.
Hurt delivered,
the lives I’ve damaged,
to the degree I’ve trashed my own.
The family and friends…
that I believed in disappeared,
the ones that have trusted went away
just as I feared,
those I should have cherished got
ignored and pushed aside,
the map I’ve called my instincts
proved to be a lousy guide,
so I’ll keep moving in and out and
meander through this maze
and try to fight the pull of yesterdays.
I feel I’m coming… to the edge now,
and a gulf I can’t surpass.
Desperation…
hopeless spirit,
loneliness present and past.
I cannot wrap my mind around…
how I ended up with this,
the future of my youth that
dissipated in the mist,
Can’t escape the fear of the anguish
that’s in store,
and the thought that every sunset
will repeat the one before,
so I’ll muster up the courage as
I approach another phase
and try to fight the loss of yesterdays.
Original Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written December 2007
Sacred Moon's Light
Full moon ascending... horizon’s dark spice,
spring breeze is stirring
and shifting the blinds.
The motion of airflow… dances ‘cross skin,
rekindles a fire
that once lived within.
As dusk blurs to nightfall… in a stark raven’s sky,
redemption’s discovered… with the sacred moon’s light.
A candle is burning… incense adrift,
an azure flame dancing
by the wind’s subtle shift.
A life of confusion… of doubt and of pain,
begins to dissolve
on the nocturnal plane.
The depth of the moment… is captured in flight,
an owl’s pass is shadowed… by the sacred moon’s light.
The essence of silver… alight with its spark,
feeling renewal
in the wisp of the dark.
The air moves with purpose… alive yet unseen,
driving out demons
by the force of Between.
A night-hawk perched proudly… silhouette in the night,
the royalty of freedom… in the sacred moon’s light.
Original Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written February 2007
Note: Was converted into a song (of the same name) by Lynn Stokes.
spring breeze is stirring
and shifting the blinds.
The motion of airflow… dances ‘cross skin,
rekindles a fire
that once lived within.
As dusk blurs to nightfall… in a stark raven’s sky,
redemption’s discovered… with the sacred moon’s light.
A candle is burning… incense adrift,
an azure flame dancing
by the wind’s subtle shift.
A life of confusion… of doubt and of pain,
begins to dissolve
on the nocturnal plane.
The depth of the moment… is captured in flight,
an owl’s pass is shadowed… by the sacred moon’s light.
The essence of silver… alight with its spark,
feeling renewal
in the wisp of the dark.
The air moves with purpose… alive yet unseen,
driving out demons
by the force of Between.
A night-hawk perched proudly… silhouette in the night,
the royalty of freedom… in the sacred moon’s light.
Original Copyright © 2007 Stone Bryson. All Rights Reserved.
Written February 2007
Note: Was converted into a song (of the same name) by Lynn Stokes.
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Known in many (albeit small) online circles over the past 15 years, Stone Bryson is a poet, storyteller, and essayist. He is working on various writing projects, and lives what he describes as an 'analog life.' He resides in Jackson County, Missouri.