Love is the way.

We are the betrayed, we are the rejected

We are the hurt, we are the dejected

Brothers, sisters, we are the broken

We are the quiet ones, words unspoken.

We are the deserted, the cheated,

The unloved, the lost, the beaten

——

But brothers, sisters, we are stronger

We never forget and we may never forgive

But life goes on and we will live

We breathe the air of freedom

For we know there is only one way

To win we must achieve, we can believe

——-

For there is love between us

Sister take my hand, let us make a stand

Draw our lines in the sand

Let there be love between us

Share our hurt, then cast it out

Look to the stars, lose our doubt.

——-

For in your heart brother I see hope

And in yours sister I see love

In myself I see the future

Take my hand in yours

Walk sister, laugh brother

The past is gone, the future is ours.

——-

Copyright Stan M Rogers 2018

Stand Tall.

The door opens, creaks eerily

The world lurches, shudders

My mind struggles against fear

… but I enter … I fall … I cry out

Anything to grab hold of

Any certainty, any hope

… but there is none

But there is a voice, it laughs, pitilessly

Tells me “Don’t fight. Just give in.”

For I am condemned, alone I fight

Alone I fall into dark nothingness

… a child of midnight’s fears

Stygian nightmares

And yes as always, damned forever

I hold back my tears.

As I fall.Endlessly.

Not knowing up or down

Will I die here tonight?

Shroud-less, no nails for coffin lids

Will I give In to this torture

This blessed crime against my hope

Or will I fight back?

I have before, but then I had strength

Now age and time weakens me

I feel frailty In my bones, In my blood

… but mostly In my soul.

I feel lost, and I think I am

… too many days, too many hurts,

Too much damned pain.

And now.

Movement ceases, my fall decreases

My pain … It eases

For I have found a certainty

A personal truth. I will find strength

It may be hidden, but never lost

I won’t give In

I will stand tall.

Again.

Copyright Stan M Rogers 2018

Death’s Cold Mist.

Think of me.

In case I go

Some dark horizon beckoning

For some days it comes closer

But my heart is always with you

Even in deaths cold mist

My memory fading

My words becoming fainter

… with my voice

My image with you but my touch no more

… upon you.

But still I will be with you

Whispering faintly my endearments to you

Echoing in corridors of your mind

Think of me in that light summer breeze

A touch.

Think of me as it gently whispers in the trees

My voice

I leave you.

New World.

As today I walked, step after dusty step over this parched land

I felt the earth was burning. I am burning too

I am burning with such passion for a new future

A new world for me, unexplored, full of wonder

But I ponder as I trudge along, bare chested in the sun

The burning sun on my back, then in my eyes.

What will this new world hold for me?

I am frightened … will it be tears?

Shed so frequently over recent years.

More of the same? Will it be? Or …

Will my new world be one of happiness?

I have almost forgotten what happiness is.

But I want my new world to grant it again.

I want to waken each day with a smile on my sleep creased face

I want to kiss you awake my future lover, share smiles

Share joy, share breakfast, share laughter, share a new world.

I want to love you and spoil you, whisk you away

Make love to you, kiss you, tell you I love you each day.

… is that my new world? Is that a future?

It can be. I know it can be. With strength which I have

With a certainty which I will gain

I will forget pain. In my new world. My new world.

Copyright Stan M Rogers 2018

Baudelaire and dark poetry.

I love poetry that cuts into,incises even the human psyche. I suppose that is why my own seems to be shadowy dark…I try to write happy poetry and it comes out cheesy.

Perhaps writing happy stuff is hardest as the adjectives for torment and depression are so much sexier and soul touching than any other genre.

Anyway I am digressing. Perhaps my love of dark poetry started with the following piece, all I know is that is by Charles Baudelaire and how did I get to discover it?

Back in the late 1960s early 70s I was in love with a band called Mott The Hoople, this was before the days of pseudo glam crap such as Honaloochie Boogie etc. It was on the back cover of their second album called Mad Shadows and this piece of verse goes with the album so well. Atmospheric,self exploratory, examining the darker insanity of love, it has it all.

I have been searching for it for a while now and have downloaded just about every piece of Baudelaire going including the beautiful ‘Calm’…(blogged earlier) but I had no luck locating this. I kept finding mentions of it but no actual text then Duhhhhh, so obvious eh? Are you ahead of me? Yeah I downloaded the covers of that Mott The Hoople album and Eh Voila. This is it……

Descend the way that leads to hell infernal

Plunge in a deep gulf where crimes inevitable

Flagellated by a wind driven from skies eternal

Where all your torments, and for the all the ages

Mad Shadows never at the end of your desires

Shall never satisfy your furious rages

And your chastisement be born of loveless fires

Like A New Lover.

Earlier this evening I was talking to one of my best friends on here. We go back years. She told me that my poetry is always dark and depressing. Stuff to hang yourself with poetry…lol. I do mostly write my poetry (although not my novels)on the dark side. I always have. It’s me, the way I do it. But, just for you J I have tried to write something upbeat if not actually jolly. I hope y’all like it. I think it’s “ok”.

This morning I watched the sun rise

And for the first time in many a year

I felt my spirit rise, my heart lifted

All of the weight on my mind became as a feather

All doubt and worry left me

I stood up … naked, and alone

Warm rays kissed my skin like a new lover

Life began again. I was renewed. Reborn.

Happiness returned, I smiled, I laughed

Years of hurt left me, a future, I had a future

Sunlight chased away the dark shadows within me

And I was left scourged of doubt.

And now? Now I am strong. Weakness banished.

I can at last hold my head high.

Feel the blood rush through my veins

I can feel, really feel. I can love again.

Copyright Stan M Rogers. 2018

Hell Can Make Me.

Should I consider selling my lowly soul?

Take the devils payment?

Though it may be small.

But what would I sell it for?

A handful of cash? Naaaa?

The perfect woman?

But I don’t like perfect

My perfection is different

The hurt, the dismayed, the almost broken

They are mine but with the will to fight

To stand strong, to carry on

To fight, to never give up

The imperfect?

Now they are for me. Like me

… are me

But a devils deal?

Guess I don’t need it

For hell is no stranger to me

It is actually my hangout right now.

Perfect company I find for a discarded soul

Demons can take me

Hell can make me whole.

Copyright Stan M Rogers 2018