Darkness of a summer’s warm night, but, Stars so bright, so clear, Looking up for the moon and no it isn’t there. Not till later, not till I want it to be I think And I look back … in anger no. Anger is not in this vocabulary. Fear and loss yes in my own lexicon, emptiness even. Yeah … you know the feeling. We have been there before. You know. Between loss and sorrow? That old one way street. One track mind, as usual, as bloody usual. Yea always. Visiting lovers graves, long gone … Oh yes long gone. Disappeared long ago into an ever more black and white past And yet Still I want my moon to rise And always it does To let me grasp it in my hands, and such hands? Anonymous unfeeling hands of gold? No. And God? No gods. Naa… no one up there on the millionth floor loves me. Cos I never woke up and smelt bloody coffee, not once. Don’t need caffeine to torture my mind further. Never have Does it on its sweet lonesome. Pain without stimulus. Stimulus without pain? Yea I can live with that. Not easily. Not simply…. But alone.Sometimes.
Broken dreams litter my lonely nights.
Monstrous shadows haunt me
Breaking me, softly but surely as I try to sleep
A ghostly happiness wanders, remembered from a recent past, forever lost.
And as wakefulness invades the small hours … I weep.
My head warned my heart of certain pain
My heart ignored it, as always … my heart is my bane
It causes such sweet pain as I wander alone
Feelings lost… or stripped to bare white bone.
My tears are as nothing in this solitary world.
Dark tracks ahead, shrouded by tendrils of ghostly mist
No clues are given, no words of encouragement uttered
I wander aimlessly … I face this alone. Unknowing.
… and my head drops. I care for little right now
I return to my nightmares.
© Stan M Rogers 2018
You are the wind beneath my wings.
The reason I soar so high
Into an azure sky
You are the beat of my heart
The blood through my veins
The freshness of April rains
You are the smile on my face
The laughter I share
My soul laid bare, my reason to care.
You are the song that goes on.
Never wanting the final note
Never giving up hope.
Stan M Rogers 2019.
That cold full moon watches me.
As I sit outside on the cold step.
Smoking a cigarette
Tip aglow in the silver moonlight
So many regrets, so much pain
At so many lost dreams
Shared with moonbeams
But I am alone as always
Fighting life, an army of one.
Solitary. Such a bitter word to me
A word so painful that I can't utter it now
Under Cybele's baleful glare
Cigarette smoke rises in curling streams
Reaching up to sway, to dance in moonbeams
October now and the nights get cold
As cold as my heart it seems lately
And soon this step I sit on will be mantled with frost
Will I still be here? I ask myself
Or maybe elsewhere
But who knows? Not I so it seems
Under cold moonbeams.
Stan M Rogers copyright 2009