Am I 'Absolute'?

82: The poetry spam pt2

Solitary: 2017:

The spacious room is left untouched where it can
The cold chambers with doors a-slam
Light switch aching without finger print
The bricks would crumble if flint
Were allowed by my hand
Kept like an attic left like forbidden land
An indescribable pain
Sleeps through the solitary body
Memories neither good nor bad
Memories of persons who once had
Upon a time exclaimed laughter
Seems now only an echo in the rafters
Why am I left behind
At such an age that seems unkind
I wish to plead their story
But even my selfish eye can see
They fear the future's worries
Not knowing how to take it
An indescribable pain
It's leaving its stain

~~~

Morning: 2017:

I sit here with my mind a cloud
Just like the weather outside this house
Though tasks I must do
I prefer to look out the window
To see the warm morning view

~~~

Lydia: 15/Aug/17

Mystic wonder
Swims through your radiant eyes
Your pleasant notions
And your sweet smiles

~~~

Window: 02/Sep/17:

Stained glass window, blurry from fingerprints. Always a shadow just cut from the frame. But sometimes I do see it, feel it, breathe it.
The shimmer of darkness.

~~~

How: 02/Sep/17:

How much can a soul rust
Until it becomes the earth...
How much can love cost
Until the person is nothing worth...

Why did the dove return
When it knew it would bring false hope...
Can't we ever learn
It's better on an empty slope...

How many are left to give into pain
How many will there be of us still...
Because somehow we remain
Yet another and another life to kill...

~~~

Reef: 6/Sep/17

Sandy toes
Unlatch my woes
Why the waves swallow
Away my wallows
Thank you kind Reef
For washing away my grief

~~~

My Best Friends: 7/Oct/17

My favourite twilight
Proving I need not stars
Because the moon you have crafted
Is never truly far

~~~

A lost home: 7/Oct/17

Hollow walls
Desolate pictures
Efface my past
From yet another blank smile.
Crack sneering behind curtains
Drawn with the misunderstood yellow
The yellow that defaced reality.

True sheets of rusted black
Glistening with droplets of crimson
A house without a roof
Like wooden jumper, yanked by the string.
Unravel slowly, slowly.

Fractions of eerie silence
Slanting the thatched basket
Ridden with weeds and rotting apples.
Another bowl empty
Tedious to touch
Weightless to lift.

Grievous cave, look away
Gazing at spidering crack,
Faithless silence.
The bowl filled with spilling sour
For which my beat-less heart skinny dips.

Freeze my raw flesh
Creep through my transparent skin.
Stones cemented against light,
Blighted with plague
Of memories

~~~

The horologist: 09/Nov/17:

Fresh oak wafts the nose
Day swimming through the glass
Tick, tick, tock is how it goes
Round the chiming gold and silver amass
He makes a coo laughter
His hands ever caring
As auburn as his before and after
For the tune of tale soars his baring
They call him the grandfather clock

~~~

Pendulum: 09/Nov/17:

Chair scraping a curve in stone
Each carving an hour
Skin pinched to the ivory bone
Hair of webs long as age itself
Dial striking hard
A steady gnash
Cracking the glass
Replaced with a sheet slightly thicker
Slightly tougher than the last
Using a little more weight every time
Baring the spruce and earring the oak
Peeling the birth and tearing the wood
To sew together again with splinters
So
The pendulum shatters
Never were the bandages enough
Not for each and every scratch

~~~

House of one: 19/Dec/17:

Hollow walls don't whisper. Slate air doesn't echo
You know what's coming. You always know
Oh you are stupid aren't you? Even strained ears can't hear nothing
Far too loud for listening

Empty rooms and broken doors don't shed ghosts. How long have you even waited?
I guess even time doesn't know. Because no matter the hour
It will always catch up. Always

~~~

House of one continued: 19/Dec/17:

Just because you elongate a vowel doesn't mean it won't end. Same for humans
It's almost as though the fire is freezing. As though your blood is drowning
The lagging replay of an onlooking emptiness. Don't joke to an empty room

That one word you deny. Creeps back in
Don't speak when you talk. Your answers already found
It's empty. Especially, well, you
You know what I mean

~~~

Musubi: 11/Mar/18:

The folds of a spun web
May overlap and knot
Knitting each other into a thread

Dancing in a spiral
Through the infinity of time
Together

~~~

Kataware-doki: 02/March/18:

I stand here
Maybe a minute
Maybe more
Swirls of colour
Unveils a youthless time in her iris
Her cloak pauses the smallest crawler
Wash laughs of paint
Purple and blue, green and gold guise
Weaving through the stitches of her black eye
Spotted with the ghosts of stars
Weaving a pink and orange haze
A gate has opened
Her portal wide with anxious welcome
A tick echoes and fades with her falling iris
An ink glaze slowly plasters
Her cloak whisks away, taking its colours
I stood there
Maybe a minute
Maybe more

~~~

You (the other sister): 30/Mar/18

Are you going to take,
Or going to give?

Are you going to break,
Or going to fix?

Will you help me laugh,
Or make me cry?

Will you say hello,
Or goodbye?

~~~

Reaching: 21/Apr/18:

A light that drew slow and steady,
Like that of a candle
Whose wick refuses to extinguish.
Something like that- a string devoid of an end.
But it looks as though I was wrong;
Perhaps, from the true end to my end
it was a star;
A star with no light...