I don’t know how,
just peace of mind,
an ability to feel
when everything around me
right now seems surreal.
Words as easily made to speak
upon the fear of our own
vulnerable selves,
and yet,
what about that guilt we leave behind,
how cruel are we
put ourselves before
everyone else
those that believe
and the others
like me,
feel lost in a sea of despair.
The greatest fear of its being real
leaves a silence no one will ever feel.
© Scott F Savage 10/2020
Cause so much pain
yet the remorse no longer exists,
instead it becomes a plan,
a way to carry out some
leftover bedlam.
~
One has to realize
no longer could a sunset
be appreciated by naked eyes,
a walk upon autumn lain leaves,
would seem unnatural.
~
For these are the things
we will wish were not easily
left behind
though how could they not,
if stopping to breathe no longer …
~
We can feel moments of fear
a confusion
a desperation
a certain irony
that wills our lives against the others.
~
There are those we will fight
for a lifetime
that credibility
the natural course of time,
left alone reveal own sad device.
~
Think of the hours spent,
the time ahead,
obligations, expectations, hopes and dreams,
and they’re not all your own,
they are those who count upon you
~
to lead our lives along some path,
a travel in excitement, entertainment,
voices to be heard,
a purpose to learn the rhythm
of how the blues to sing our songs.
~
If for the moment
found hanging from a doorway
would be the finality of speculation
what would matter then,
later after fresh paint and new hinges.
~
This is a certain sorrow,
enough to frighten a victim
from pursuing a good night’s sleep,
for to wake in this same world again,
oh so tiresome is this rinse and repeat.
~
If somehow the sky might open swallow me whole
than know would I my peace no longer need control.
©Scott F Savage 10/2020
The desire for Grace is gone
the damage is done,
look outside
into a beautiful sunlit morning
and know like the mind
storms reside deep inside.
The swelling ego
far too contentious
in its mastery
of wielding a torturous
routine, satisfaction.
Call it regret
long before our pedestal
returns its rise.
©️Scott F Savage 4/2020
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
I told you I was ok,
I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,
There wouldn’t be a day,
when I would try to make you blue.
I just want to tell you this story,
it isn’t meant to remind you really,
of everything about you in a hurry,
that I would love and cherish so fully.
The ache is something always a surprise,
sitting in my home, in a quiet,
when suddenly I have tears I am not wise
to know this chaos is my riot.
I thought of you this day every day,
I wondered, wandered, wanted to feel
the truth about our grace today,
I live to love you, how sweet and real.
I wouldn’t ever want to worry you,
this feeling I have tonight is only a blue.
© Scott F Savage 2019
Imagine a breeze turning mean,
a gale of force
stomping a dream.
When she cried
the winds are changing
my heart almost died
Didn’t mean I disagreed
I understood the storm
I just had this inherent need.
For so many years
a quiet reckoning
Gray days left no fears
Instead the skies above
would shine our way
forever giving breath to love.
wake to misery
an unbearable fury
the end, please hurry
We differ,
men and women,
apparently,
so I’ve been told,
in a sort of scold,
We differ in sex and love
I would argue,
giving her my love
is probably
a vulnerable move.
We differ in how we understand
the other might respond,
the other has a plan,
when in silence,
we stand now alone
We were once the same
if only, a silent interlude
~ finding my way, a personal journey ~
photo found on pinterest
 | 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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