A Game of Hide and Seek (poem)

Could you find me among the red brick
homes nestled in a quiet part of the city
with still roads waiting for Christmas magic
on a night like this when only poetry lights the way?

Let your heart and soul spill out
in fragmented
                                    lines and phrases
imagery that paints the world in a soft hue
breathing color back into me (how long has it been?)

Then you may discover the secret streets
as if your brush had caused the houses to move
revealing the magic world children inhabit
existing between then and now – between you and me.

Your footsteps will fill the empty beat
a tempo of impending adventure –
                             impending joy –
loose the melody from your mouth
call me
                            and I will answer.

 -Zero

push me by surprise so i can take the dive (poem)

I'm not great at seeing infinity in a wildflower
but I can hear forever in your laughter
though I know I probably shouldn't.
Your eyes have eternity written in them
leaving me to wonder how many millions of years
built up to this very moment: your smile
a fragment of the heavens I shouldn't see.
The romantic in me wants this
a surging river to pull me out to a sea
so vast I can do nothing but submit
to embrace the boundless even if I drown.
The cynic (or realist) wants to stay on land
where everything has a beginning – and an end –
including you and I, now approaching goodbye
off into the night you go and I watch
wishing I had taken a dive.

 

-Zero

a childhood home sold (poem)

Wide-eyed, taking deep breaths
take in the forest and my home
the horizon painted with goodbye
pick up a pen, a camera
try to capture it, contain it

but it always overflows
unable to be trapped and measured
breaking beyond the walls I built
to form a home around it.
Give up, the past is gone.

Just like life, uncontrollable
a vast fountain overflowing
ever moving, ever changing
gone the moment you catch it
slipping from grip too soon.

-Zero

let's just be friends (poem)

I recognize the look in their eyes:
my presence is a promise of romance.
they tell me not to break your heart
how many times have we gone down this road now?
Our hearts battered and beaten – and tired
of all the chaos romance has brought,
wouldn't it be nice to leave that behind?
Let's meet up and chat over a cup of coffee
longing glances absent, no confessions of love;
I want to defy their constant expectations,
teach my heart how to take a break
even though you're sitting across from me.

-Zero

a vow left unbroken (poem)

I swore myself to you
seared my vow into my skin
so all could question its meaning – its truth
that would brand me
a heretic and a fool
(but what's the difference?)

The words trace my every vein
unreadable scrawls awaiting to be struck out
with a scalpel to extract the truth my soul
spilling out onto paper
but I can't make the cut
(when will you be satisfied?)

The mirror stares my promise back
my eyes quiver away into dark sockets
I left the scalpel on the table
my fingers shake at its could touch
I wish I could do more.

(could I leave this vow unbroken?) 

 

-Zero

Whispers of More (Odd Notes)

Whispers dance on the wind. I can't quite hear them, but I can feel them. They tug at me, pull me to a place I always dreamed of but never travelled to. How often do we fall in love with an idea, only to let reality overtake it? The convenience of it all seduces us, lures us into a life full of contentment with an underlying sense of dissatisfaction. We tell ourselves that there is not enough time in the day for all that we'd like to do, but when the time is given, indolence takes over instead. 

Forgivable, for the intention is to recharge, to revitalize our bodies and minds for the days to come. A cycle forms, however. If we always give ourselves to what we do not want, and leave nothing for ourselves, then what is the point of it all? How do we manage to balance the demands of the world with the desires of our hearts? With a scale too easily tipped, by the looks of it. I wish I was better at it (another desire to toss on the pile). 

-Zero

by storm's wake (poem)

I stumbled across an old soul
taking shelter under a thin tin roof,
his tired eyes had seen countless lives,
and desperate for what they could offer me
I asked:

how do I know I'm on the right path?
It feels like I'm blind and stumbling
nothing more than a feather on the winds of fate–
how do I learn how to fly?

He eyed me suspiciously.
What did he see under my facade?
Has he heard this question too many times?

“A feather cannot hope to fly on its own
nor does it have eyes to guide its way,”

But–

“Foresight comes in retrospect
but where you've been does not show where you'll go
always we walk into the unknown
unsure if our feet will find ground
but walk we must, one step at a time
with naught but hope to guide us.”

-Zero

in love with a ghost (poem)

a decade ago I fell in love with a ghost
        a shade, a spectre, an echo of reality
I promised myself she was real: flesh, blood, bone
        like a child with an imaginary friend

when we were together it was joyous anxiety
        all was perfect; nothing felt right
mourning for what could have been felt natural
        so I slept at the grave of our love

I had etched the stone's epitaph myself
        “here lies a love which will never die”
though I eventually moved out of the graveyard,
        I returned frequently: during winter, at night

a decade ago I forced a ghost to live
        screaming, crying, burning
I shattered the tombstone this morning
        dug up the grave, still empty.

-Zero

Why did we collapse? (poem)

Heartbreak became obsession,

I desperately tried to heal the wound

by turning back time with a scalpel,

cutting it up into minuscule pieces

under examination to find an answer

as I bled myself out. 

 

-Zero