Late night tension
drives the soul
to feel the fear
of psychic energy.
What matters only
is love,
but yet lost
is passion.
Where does the heart
feel the least pain
when chain links
surround the body,
imaginary torture
of the mind.
Speaking of
that moment
before a tear,
we laid loose
our opportunity
to quiet our fear.
That golden child
will not wane
when civility seems
profane,
that fear would
respond inside
a spoken
atmosphere.
To imagine
lives predestined
such a beautiful thing
to imagine
our state of mind
might be the same
miles away
thoughts beyond.
To imagine
we can correspond
with one another’s moves
an art of serendipity
whose questionable
authority
might probably suggest
to imagine
is beautiful
inside
its idiotic
penchant
to dream
© aquietman
I watch the moon
in a distant sky.
It’s an annual trek
in my not knowing why.
There’s a fire that burns
now I can’t tell you why
stoking it with yearns
I still can’t tell you why.
Because I love you
only makes you blue.
I wonder if you ever cry
the way you did with me.
I’d ask you why
wishing I had left you be.
~
© Scott F. Savage 6/2022
It happens too suddenly,
this descent
this tragic love affair.
Give me a moment of thought
and my world becomes
a living albatross around me,
a constant conscious rush
of anxiety, misfortune, lost zeal.
~
I was thinking about you in the morning,
pleasantry and smiles,
thought about a walk in the rain
pleasantry and smiles
when I suddenly came to terms
with a memory,
nothing more.
~
I wanted to cry but I couldn’t,
sitting in a cafe listening to
‘After The Gold Rush’
and coming to terms
with the quiet solace
that every love song
played in my head.
~
It was then I could feel it
coming on with ruthless
abandon,
couldn’t swim away,
didn’t want to
walk away,
yet the world around me
wouldn’t notice
anyway.
I stood outside the other day
felt the bracing wind upon my skin
that wind you speak of
the one that keeps your energy
departing my sights.
I can’t find you anymore,
though I look everyday,
wishing those winds would change
to return the embrace we once knew.
Spring is on its way
and I can feel the sun
upon my frost bitten cheeks
ready to warm the air around me
ready to give me reminders of you.
I listen to the wind every day,
and an occasional hooting owl …
in the distance.
© Scott F Savage
I’m always going to stop
nearby I can feel you
the urgency will remain,
the times we had,
we held
and the world seemed a little
simpler
your eyes in my cries,
we would spend our forever
in the short minutes
time might allow.
Now I’m a driveby,
every opoportunity
a stop in the memory
of you,
holding you,
feeling your lips upon mine,
I will always be there
whether away or nearby,
traveling the highway …
I wish just one minute more.
© Scott F Savage 4/2022
I drive by now and again,
I pull in
can you do some reading?
I think in
terms of fantasy
you’re my fantasy
like a dream I had one setting sun
when the two of us, when we’d begun
I try to live inside this fantasy
soften the blow of my reality.
©️ Scott F Savage 4/2022
I am lost
like a child wishing to find
his favorite aunt
his precious blanket
his own confusion
his mother and father.
I am lost
like a teenager
losing innocence
fighting hormonal rage
a poem for MaryLou.
I am lost
like a young adult
wanting to marry
hoping for children
finding a job.
I am lost
like now this elder
wishing for peace
hoping to not be left
alone.
©️ Scott F Savage 4/2022
Though distance winds her away
he would always know a way
might he bring her back
hold onto what he does lack.
~
He spent a fortune on emotion,
wanting only her quiet passion
though time did otherwise
his love for her seems no longer wise.
~
Today, while the rains begin to fall
he knows all of this love a pall
when two people cannot really know
the truth behind an elegant glow.
~
We cannot ever decide our whole
when life begins and captures our soul.
© Scott F Savage 4/2022
No one can hear tears
they press and release
press and release
flooding cheekbones
in a quiet respite.
Only her sobs alert me.
©️ Scott F Savage 4/2022
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