Metamorphosis of daffado.., p.1
Metamorphosis of daffadowndilly, p.1
by J.B. Klimko
Love, the secret garden of our being,
Where living teaches us relating.
A simplistic pleasure of connecting,
Beyond trying or impressing,
Love beyond the making.
It's a self reflecting source
Of vulnerability and surrounding.
In the face of the unknown
The most timeless force of love.
Stranger to myself I shall never know
The source of your smile, let alone your soul.
I touch your heart and I see what you feel.
I know what's certain, but I can't be sure what's real.
Love reduced to a word, poetry to a form.
Through obscure concepts, from nothing, you become.
I'm running my fingers
Down her silky hair.
The rhythm of our breathing softens
Through the air we share.
We inhale as one
And exhale as none,
In each other's arms.
Love is being made
As we lay
Outside of time.
Time passes too fast
On these morning sheets of white.
I'm half awake, wrapped up in your soft hands.
Gently tickling our senses, the sound of rain.
But for us, it couldn't matter less.
Then I snooze again
Mesmerised by your embrace
And I sink into your?inviting?chest,
Dreams are still awake
And I wish
That time could also rest.
Language was his only home.
Mine, at times. But thoughts
Always and love occasionally, too.
Wind carries ? ? my lost hope.
I speak my truth and you speak yours.
So different, when we both are wrong.
(And the power that they hold)
Bring us back to the smallness of
Our grey forgotten places?.
I don't look back;
Past is far beyond what is
Home is my old belief.
It has been a tough day,
Long past midnight and I'm still awake.
The neighbour's dog frantically
Barks at the moon, which tonight
Is so bright and full.
If only I
Didn't say these mean?words,
And let my anger off the leash
I could sleep
With you tonight; you in mine
Or I in your fragile arms;
Feel the breath on the back of my head
That the moon tonight
Is not alone.
I keep saying
Wrong things to her.
One moment of ill-attention
Outside of my intention
In me hurting her. Then I'm sorry
But it's too late.
She walks away, goes early to bed
And I'm left alone.
Becomes my wrongness
So I'm waiting for another day;
There's little harm that time can't repair.
The sun comes down and up and once again
We are held
Lovingly, in each other's space.
The love story
So the story goes;
He enters the room; happy her, happy him.
Coffee is almost ready (a delightful morning brew).
She suggests to turn the telly on
But he's fed up with the box,
A view he doesn't hide.
She was so happy before
So how could he come
And with one sentence destroy
This perfect morning, their peace and love?
Only if he was not
So negative, then she wouldn't be
The end of the story.
You make me
I'm lost to the point
Where denying us
Is the only freedom that I have
(which is none).
The hardest truth to know
Is that the more I love, the more
I'm scared ? ?of losing you.
I used to see this dependency as weakness
But now, after years of resistance,
I'm?finally learning to?let go,
To die in your arms and be reborn,
All in a flicker of shared breaths.
And even though there're times
When I'd like to run from you and hide,
I know I can't, because we share this life.
You make me
And we are one.
I'd rather die young
I'm scared of getting old,
And suffering for no gain at all
Waiting for death
Too slow to approach.
I'm scared of dying on my own,
I'd rather die before;
In the prime of my life,
With beauty and purpose
Filling up my heart.
May it be a surprise,
May I smile and feel alive,
Be complete and awake,
The magic of the moment;
May I fall in love with death.
Habitually I get out of bed,
Brush my teeth,
Habitually I kiss
Her dry morning lips and welcome myself.
Then I eat, habitually too
And I live each day,
Monday through Sunday,
Without ever asking why
And the world
So new, un-habitually so.
A fear of loneliness penetrates my cells.
Space irrelevant and time
Unlike material things,
Only dreams allow the choice
To set me free and to fulfil the most isolating wish;
But not to feel.
Eternal death that never rests,
Knowledge brings dividing lies
And only fools admit they know,
Gone for good, far reaching truth of doubt.
A dying man once told me
'Life is unfair', by life meaning death.
Nothing is more fair, I thought
As I looked deeply into his fading eyes,
Feeling deceptively immortal.
Bars and walls
Two men locked against their will
Prisoners of life in two tiny cells;
Bare walls and bars,
Small thoughts and unreliable hopes.
One man prays every single day
Talks to the God and expects
To find his peace and sanity,
Right outside of himself.
The other man counts ever single brick,
He wants to know, understand and be familiar with
Those enclosing walls, for it is his world.
A young man about to be shot
By a firing squad.
Sentenced by a martial court,
His crime: love.
The executioner asks for his final words,
But there's not much to say
So the young man is given
His?last cigarette?to smoke.
Probably feeling that one day we all be dead
They treat him like another man,
A living being still stands in front of them.
But time has no mercy
And in just a minute or two on his pale?face
They'll place a dark hood;
With his back against the wooden pole,
He will be shot
...like a rabid dog.
I feel so fragile
Like a baby bird;
Unable to fly,
Unable to escape,
Dependent on others,
Deprived of a choice,
Scared of the world.
Yet I trust that one day
I will spread my wings
And learn how to fly.
I will chase the wind
And kiss the sky.
Wet and cold
It's an early morning, outside wet and cold.
Even my dog glued to the carpet
Refuses to go for a walk
But we must
Face the day
With a smile and a brave face.
We must show them
That, regardless of it all, we can thrive
Persevere and walk
Through the struggles of our life.
Prayer to self
Love thyself, my dear;
Knowledge is for fools
To be better than they are.
Relax your stride and feel each step,
Hear the whisper of your soft care,
And each day speak to yourself
The amorous words you already know.
Acceptance grows on its fertile soil.
Nothing other than
To love thyself.
Hold me tight
Hold me tight, please.
Embrace me close
When I'm quick and intense
Or dull and long.
As good as you can,
Hold me tight.
Do not throw me out, push away, ignore or curse.
Please, just hold me tight;
For I'm your fear,
I'm your dearest pain.
So hold me tight and be with me, my friend.
Just walk away.
From the voice in your head,
Calling your name
Just ignore it and be yourself.
Walk into a foreign peaceful space.
Only step by step.
That voice brings you down
And tells you the lies that you always trust,
Just walk away, and remember:
It's not your voice
Inside your head.
May I sleep while I'm awake,
Be as real as I am fake,
May I hold and let it go,
May I be?what I'm not,
Be as open as I'm closed,
Choose the obvious, know the choice,
Look at us?and cry with joy,
Build the trust that?I destroy.
Metamorphosis of daffadowndilly by J.B Klimko / History & Fiction have rating 3.5 out of 5 / Based on39 votes