THE HUMAN ANVIL

Category: man, love, poem, poetry

  • Part-time Philosophies

    The ocean does not speak of sadness
    For sadness has no voice that can say
    That being empty is like being filled forever
    An infinite without a way
    And when I with my eyes look out
    At a world where each face has a place
    I wonder who really wins
    If it’s in a circle that everyone does race
    True it is tragic that in the end
    There is no magic that holds all the cards
    For his is the glory of the game
    Who plays his joker as ace when it’s hard
    And I know in this mesmerizing madness
    For the follicle of that forever fame
    People play their pieces for practice
    Unaware that they will never be the same
    And so do I yearn to sit
    By the shore where horizons do cease
    And thank the seed of silence
    For this life that I had on a lease

  • Periphery


    Between sleeping and falling asleep 
    I lost a lifetime
    To live some dreams

  • Light Years


    My eyes cannot measure the distance,
    My heart knows our love is the same,
    I am falling like wax from a candle,
    Reaching for the touch of your flame

  • Leftovers


    In the end
    I am just a footprint in someone’s mind
    Till the dust of time settles 
    And there is nothing more one can find

  • Lines

    Whatever future I hold today,
    Come tomorrow will be a yesterday…

  • Moral Of All Stories

    Image by Elijah Hiett @unsplash


    On a blue green morning
    Two men
    Sitting on a stone
    By a river still and deep
    Discussed the world’s demise
    Feeling old and feeling wise
    Till one of them caught a fish
    And left

  • PIECES

    All that is left now;
    Is for us to write
    Of our dreams of the day
    That died in the night

  • A Lifetime


    If all the nights
    And all the days
    Of my life
    Condense
    In one epiphany without end
    Then friend hear well
    That the clock, when it strikes midnight,
    Will not be pointing at twelve

  • Hubris

    I am just another
    Diluted human being
    Strained with whetstone thoughts
    And rhinestone dream
    Tracing the echo of my footsteps
    In silent halls
    Sans any walls
    Was I born to burn
    And cling to life
    Like cigarette ash
    Dying and dying
    One breath at a time?
    I can hear the puppets talk
    At night
    Their voice
    Made of wood and string
    Mirrors of what the violin sing
    My tragedy and ivory
    A comedy and ebony
    My face is falling apart
    Like wallpaper
    And what’s beneath is no longer me
    It’s a different shade
    This bruise beneath the bandage
    I am alone
    And awake
    And I know
    That I ache
    Somewhere deep inside
    Where those things hide
    Which I keep
    So not to weep
    At every pain that passes
    Like needle through my arm
    For I am just another
    Diluted human being
    Strained with whetstone thoughts
    And rhinestone dream

  • Akin

    Let me go
    And I shall be
    Something akin
    To a memory
    My flesh it burns
    My bones they weigh
    The nights are tough
    And it’s hard these days
    For my soul it wanes
    Like wax neath flame
    And I know the pain
    To always feel the same
    Thus there is no way
    Where I can sow
    A seed of pearl
    For a sea to grow
    So I shall pass
    Through the veil of sand
    Alone with eternity
    Hand in hand…