Tag Archives: long distance relationship

Hoped Words

Simple four-worded questions
disrupted by a twelve-hour delay.
I’m so bored in this suspension,
wires dangling and looping.
So fucking bored to hear
whatever you say.

I’ll celebrate to hear
the words and hope
they go my way.
I hope you go my way.

After all this time, wish
sawed off days and delays,
it’d be a wasted hesitation
just to hear you say

the words and hope
they go my way.
I hope you’ll be going my way.

I wish I could draw
you as you were in
my dream, lying
on your back in bed,
in my bed.

I want to live in your reality
‘I would not like to die’ you said in the polluted night.
then you’re not living right.

And the words, the words you said
will in hope, go my way.

By No Aid of Time

What’s in your name?
And how is it made?
Could it be replicated, or is it something
extraordinary, or something else, something yet of designation?

I’m trying to decide what makes it
special, a permanent stain impossible to erase

Beneath the lids of eyes, spelling out
the ever-expanding skies, the lights of stars
ingrained within the mind and replicates something as
mundane as your name.

Impossible ought it be,
pathetic even – yet it remains.

Fearful am I to keep this way,
unsure of how it plays into the folds of creation
of Present Yet to Be.

And yet I sit, stalled whenever A stranger
may share a character stroke same as yours,
caught spying on something as external as a phrase
others gave to command your state.

It’s preposterous. It’s typical.
A fault of mine enlarged by the aid of time
and a work less heart. But it’s mine to bear,
a wound still in disrepair.

Forgotten Lines

I’ve forgotten the words that brought out
this ink. Wasted,
we take this memory for granted.

The aroma of a name,
or something along those lines.

The phrase had something to do
about you being mine. Which
is a selfish frame of thought,

Perhaps it is better then, to have such
thoughts lay in disrepair. To forget and
hide the awful, selfish side of my mind.

To touch the aroma of your name.
Or something like that,
romantic yet profound somehow.

I’ve failed to complete, forfeited
my right. But, perhaps it’s better that way.

2 June 2014

Oh, this mind is much too small
to contain such thoughts that
billow the sleeping forms
causing them to stir so,
changing the rhythms of their rest.

You may never create such bewitching design,
but you do inspire that profession to come alive.

I thought of you the other day,
I thought of you this morning, awake.
I dreamt a glimmer into your mind,
but what it created, please dare not remind.

Lay such fear deep and narrow,
for cowardice strikes me not now into
the whispers of this night. Turbulent
forces paralyse the spine and beg
not to be realised.

This time, forgotten.
This night shall pass,
but as of late and as forever, these teething
thoughts rotate upon the thought of you and of our time.

The Reason for this Continuation

All of these words,
and all of these thoughts.
It is a sorrow that
you will not read all
of my dedications designed for you.

Lost in the crossfire,
lost by the sea,
lost by friendly, inconspicuous
deeds such as sleep.

You will not read them,
cannot even, for will,
not even I, though
hard as I try.

Dedications and songs,
verses and thoughts –
all of these lost,
word all of endorsed exalt.