Saturday, September 29, 2012

drink me a cyanide moonbeam

If only the muse could see me cry in the rain


drink me a cyanide moonbeam

while I sit here in the rain

delicate as a heartbeat 

i watch you 

and listen 

and share the last of the light

i cry

a lonely journey

here 

in the rain

i cry a lonely journey

of silver embrace

of pallid remembrance

of watching from a distance

and stripping the dreams of this madman

dampened in the rain that matters little

to the heart that feels 

less of the loneliness

of one that has come into a life

as I watch

listen

and cry

but no-one sees

forever

in this

that I write

for you


6 comments:

Jinksy said...

in the rain
I cry a lonely journey
of silver embrace

Those words are beautiful...

Sreeja said...

Its rain here too......a very beautiful and gentle poem......the opening lines are so deep......

Laurie Kolp said...

Beautiful. I especially like this part:


i cry a lonely journey

of silver embrace

of pallid remembrance

of watching from a distance

Susan said...

dampened in the rain that matters little
to the heart that feels
less of the loneliness
of one that has come into a life

There is a limit to the empathy of the rain, to the empathy of a heart lost in the rain. Nice

Claudia said...

love the cyanide moonbeam...very melancholic feel to this sir..if she could only see you in the rain...maybe she does..?

Brian Miller said...

a mix of beauty and pain man....its hard and like minds or rain bring little in the way of comfort, having lost its wetness....