Its importance
often confused
its light appearance
some ray of sunshine
circling his mind.
~
Like wheels we all have a vision
to accentuate our own mission
might compel our heart
think like we are alone a fool
and our peace will speak to love.
~
What shall become
a sense of freedom
would be the shared
ignorance two lovers shared
would be that venom.
~
I can’t tell you how to love me again.
I can’t tell you how to love me again.
© Scott F Savage 11/2021
I did, as want as you wondered otherwise
give you your peace of mind lady.
I wanted you to know I understood the why’s
were only creating a greater malady.
~
Instead of remembering all of the passions
gave us some kind of identity
I needed to let you go, painful ambitions
I was caught up in your melody.
~
Excuse my misfortune of a selfish reaction
Life is filled with fallen aspirations
Life is filled with fallen aspirations
~
I thought I might somehow rush you through
the fears, the anxiety, and the knowing wrongs
all the fodder of a dime store novel though
thinking of lazy bridges in counties she longs.
~
She didn’t want to cross any more bridges,
just get to the other side and wave to me again
just like decades earlier we crossed bridges
only I was the mistaken one way back then.
~
Excuse my misfortune of a selfish reaction
Life is filled with fallen aspirations
Life is filled with fallen aspirations
~
Excuse my misfortune of a selfish reaction.
© Scott F Savage 7/2021
That drove him to lose his mind
when a walk in the wood could remind
him of a moment with her
rather than loneliness up there.
Deep in the forest he could breathe
a beautiful sunrise he might grieve
though the sigh he would feel
gave his heart such silent reveal.
While now his world severely changed
a universal appeal does rearrange,
our priority
is one of meant clarity.
Glance out into this new landscape
a room with slat curtains cannot escape
this reality of now his village
sans human interaction like some pillage.
Look outside toward a forest of city wine
would she might sweet silence entwine.
©️ Scott F Savage 4/2020
I chose to walk along the icy paths of winter,
a place my dog will show a keen nose,
looking for his imaginary friends,
while I the walker, contemplate ideals.
I wonder sometimes about pointless
disregard when the idea of choice makes
its way into our frame of mind,
in a manner of responsible livelihood.
The snow and ice crunched once underneath
my rather pointless Sorel slick soles
and I tried to imagine in the moment,
what was on my mind so illicit.
I always reflect upon the story of a friend,
many years ago, the halls of the hospital,
he would see his boss coming the other way,
in a moment imagined silent – she did slip and fall.
Often that tale comes to mind, when in a second,
I’m on the ground, snow down my collar,
perhaps a bruise … generally ego,
and I pick myself up my dog lapping my cheek.
Is it perhaps possible to move the branch of
the trees down the path when in winter
we only realize the stark dismissal of a blossom
in spring when a shield of ice does reign.
We might know a dream, a sunlight, a starry night
all of our features of beauty with every step in life.
© Scott F Savage 2/2020
I often change the station
only because when we reminisce
no choice
only fall
free fall inside a nostalgic cavern
wide and deep anxiety
driving my heart,
my soul,
my every moment
a wish, a wonder.
I leave the station on,
like the tears,
the reminisce returns
think of eyes,
think of fingertips, sliding brow,
imagine lips upon my forehead,
a canopy memory
when love exchanged would be
our forever.
I rather like my music
the travels of my mind,
I can listen to you now,
through the waves along the avenue,
I know you understand,
I hope you recognize
the beauty of my dreams
when the melody sings her praise.
© Scott F Savage 2019
I cannot predict when I will cry for you,
it usually can come out of the blue,
as seemingly trivial as that appears,
there is no solution for these tears.
I waited an hour that turned to days
the other day I began to wonder ways
I might have ruined the beauty of you
the wonder of love seeming out of the blue
Sometimes, piecing together lives seems old
we are not meant for this not a me or you,
instead we draw conclusion out of the blue,
the two of us stand naked again, so it is cold.
I wonder just when I’ll stop feeling this blue,
will it matter to her, will it matter to you?
© Scott F Savage 2019
Still up in the sky
wandering the clouds
certainly now would I
be the first to fall
stumbling shattered shrouds.
While walking streets tall
looming lives lingering
across miles of fantasy all
holding lives in time
we wander without ending
Thinking sometimes love a crime
we haven’t any way
to estimate truly a sublime
delight upon passion is wed
though only mystique remain today.
Is it the truth we might somehow dread
the body physical – sensuality so misled.
Inside silence this seeming vacant stare
lays a mindful soul lost without a care.
Often would certain desire offer ware
when we wildly wise a silence is where.
Feel the breeze. The unnatural harsh air
will covet our loss wholly inside this snare.
It is a sound mind that does recover
inside the spiritual eye. His lover
would she might recall time is forever,
for it is need we recognize. Ever
a changing atmosphere, less reveler
more the quiet space of an outlier.
Oh to see the distant sun before gray
When inside sweet mystique treasure her way.
if quiet evolve
the art of compassion
sweet is her resolve
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
 | a quiet man on Haiku Love |
 | Yernasia Quorelios on Haiku Love |
| a quiet man on I Took A Walk |
 | Priti on I Took A Walk |
| Priti on I Took A Walk |
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
"I feel the rush of your love through my entirety and I know in this very moment of my existence this is where I belong" - The Creative Chic
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