cold winds flowing around
through tree and mind
draining all that is living
of precious energy
old man winter fast approaches
his cabin in the south
where he will stay until
the minions of spring kick him out
my spirit shivers and grows tired
the brain and heart fighting
overthinking
overtaking
slow, calm, proceed
if it is, it is, and if it is not, it is not
overthinking, overreading
is not the scientific method
the salty air of the sea filling my lungs
setting me free
watching the sunset across the sparking water
the flutter of an albatross
the marble stone walkway to my father’s work
from the place i stay
cold breezes from the north whip my skin
swaying my hair back and forth
in the port town the men drink and dine
on roast and wine
far below my father’s beacon of light
laughing of worldly bothers
A shiplighter I call him
working through the night
so others may sail to safe harbor
and not break upon the rail
glowing
beconing
addicting
hiding
the portal opens us
the portal closes us
the portal frees us
the portal enslaves us
it enlightens us
it retards us
it saves us
it kills us
for all the things
good and bad
bad and good
indifferent and insane
the portal
the one
who morphs us
changes us
in the portal we become artists
thieves
bullies
priests
each day i look into the portal
of its twisting wires
its code of binary
its tags of HTML
each day i look into the portal
and each day i smile
and frown
knowing that this could save us… or destroy us
and we’ll be better for it.
apparition
is what we call
something that is there
that is not there
what do we call something
that is there
but is ignored
is it an apparition
i am one such perplexity
i am here, but i am not
a ghost to thousands
a phantom to the masses
i exist but in the minds of a select few
for all others are oblivious to my existence
as i wander contracted halls and dark streets
in light, and in night
but a playful memory
like the faint taste of a tart candy from months ago
lost in an abyss of humanity
encapsulated with an insanity
must i remind you daily
that i exist just as you
that i am here
just as you
or am i left to the distant recesses of the cranium
where is stored algebraic expressions, the taste of gum,
the name of some forgotten hero,
and the faces of the dead you never knew?
recind, Sentinel, and Watchman have been recorded being read by yours truly and posted to YouTube. Enjoy!
looking at life
through a window pane
feeling the wind rattle
and the pounding rain
looking back at all that i’ve been through
i see my struggles before me, and the pain
that’s when i see you
my fire flame
looking at life through breakaway glass
watching the scenes play out, alas
learning from each moment, day after day
wanting to dive through to save the day
looking at life through breakaway glass
you said that you loved me every night
but you treated me like a toy
and comeback like everything was alright
i believed you because no one else ever loved this boy
looking at life through breakaway glass
watching the scenes play out, alas
learning from each moment, day after day
wanting to dive through to save the day
looking at life through breakaway glass
and if i could i’d shatter this glass
reach into the past
help myself along
keep me from you, from the pain you caused
but then again
looking at life through breakaway glass
watching the scenes play out, alas
learning from each moment, day after day
the hurt made me stronger, made me this way
now i can go on living, paving my way
and when i meet her, she will know
i’ve been there, done that, grown
games are for children, and stands here a man
A Light in the Mirror, the poetry blog by B.L. McGarr has a new web address. Henceforth, you can use http://www.alightinthemirror.com as your direct access to the site. The site will still be accessible via http://www.bradlymcgarr.com.
Thank you!
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