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 Jan 2011
Randy PSoMAS Wiafe
Unsheathe the darkness from your eyes.
Begin the endless search.
Take in the pleasures you adore.
Explore into your mind.
Submerge with your thoughts and dreams.
Rampage through the nightmares and fears.
Catapult your way through the endless voids.
Remove the walls of the abyss.
Redeem your soul from which you sacrificed it to.
Watch in full force, your life.
The first of my Eternal poems :)
 Jan 2011
Timothy Mooney
Every time I pass by the old empty house there on the corner-
I wonder-
Had I been there, in that time- not so long ago-
One sunny Sunday- in the spring step of her youth
Would she have seen me on the walk?
And if I had- with bouquet in hand- climbed those five wide steps to the door
And knocked...
Uninvited-
Would she have danced with me on that day-oh, not so long ago?
"Here but for a picnic" I would say-
Would she laugh and take the day with me?
Or would my presence there-
Uninvited-
Disturb her from her untitled words
And change things too disturbingly?
Alas it is only a romantics dream
That Miss Dickinson would allow an idyll of mine own
To enter into her pre-scribed theme
And so I put aside the thought of my hearts truth
And turn away from that empty window-as I pass by-
I will not be the one to steal those words from the World-
I will avoid those five wide steps to the door-
Uninvited.
And I will dismantle my time machine.
copyright 2010 T.P. Mooney
 Jan 2011
Pebbles
So few moments
of understanding
So few diamonds
roughly cut
pure and
shining in the sun
cpy:2010
 Jan 2011
Lord Byron
She walks in beauty, like the night
     Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
     Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
     Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
     Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
     Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
     How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
     So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
     But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
     A heart whose love is innocent!
 Jan 2011
Timothy Mooney
See the faded fabric, there?
The stitching pulled, the tattered thread?
The fabric of my heart is gone;
(I wore it Loud and Ostentate!)

Now, forlorn, I am without
Its quilted beat, that woven flag,
That banner of my hopeful youth;
(my sleeve is raw;  the wound runs deep.)

Shall I ever find a loom
To weave another, just as loud?
Or suffer hence a make-do patch?
(some homespun thing, with burlap beat?)

Should I fashion on my own
A stronger, more defensive badge,
Breaking needles as I sew?
(A heart of Tin that does not bleed!)

Wait!  What's this?  O! Say it's true!
I grieve my loss too soon, it seems,
Upon this flight of errant heart.
(I wake from imprisoned dream!)

There's a seamstress caught my eye,
With linen pure, and gilded string.
She adds to this new heart some wings;
(my heart is prone to flight, it seems.)
copyright 2011 T.P. Mooney
 Jan 2011
Timothy Mooney
I lose my way whilst searching for my Love.
So many, vagrant sins distract and pull
That moment and the subject, and I fall
Into the Pit below, and Sky above.

She beckons still;  she calls me, lures me on.
And so I travel blindly, growing weak.
Some crazy god denies that which I seek,
And wicked women hold me past the dawn.

My heart is true, but I am just a man.
A simple man, an honest Father's son,
A grandson of a man who tilled this earth.

And this I just keep tilling, whilst I seek
To find that Love so hidden from my heart.
I hope she'll wait.  This hellish road is long.
copyright 2010 T.P. Mooney
 Jan 2011
Timothy Mooney
With cloud above and planet neath my feet
With shadow sweet within my hollow breast
I traipse this scalded ground from east to west
In search of my one lost love, She!  My sweet!

I dare not tarry on this lonesome quest.
Odd winds afoot I struggle down this path
And even in my emptiness I laugh
At some dark gods infernal, ugly jest.

I do believe I'll find her, one fine day'
And we shall dance together happily.
She'll kiss me, and I'll know our Love is true.

I do believe that we were meant to be.
Until then i will walk these clouded roads'
With sky above and Time beneath my shoe.
copyright 2010 T.P. Mooney
 Jan 2011
Phantom Byron Lorde
She is gone;

Faded from my life,
But still haunting my dreams.

If only time would turn back,
That those clocks could rewind

But alas, she is gone;

And my tears still remain.
copyright Chris Smith 2011, based on the story featuring Byron (Phantom)
We walked and we walked
As i talked, you talked
The day was clear, and you were so near
I got my beer, handsome you were my dear.

You swore i tried to ignore
Me you adore,still i wanted more
Hand in hand, into my eyes you looked
We walked the land, like lovers in the Good Book.

There it was my love,blue and shiny
The sea with clouds above,the morning dew wet our faces so funny
You smiled and sang like a lonely rover
Still a mile we ran,scarcely sober

There you and me we sat before the ocean
My beer had gone flat, but everything was in motion.
I kissed you and you smiled, again happily we strode
So true we stood there for a while,what a long happy road.
 Jan 2011
Phantom Byron Lorde
If you knew my story
Of the things I have to tell
Then your soul would hurt
And suffer the untold torture
To feel the suffering deep inside

Everyday becomes one of the same
Like a crack'd mirror showing scars
A reflection that I can never bear
That is a witness, nay it is a warning
Of the man I once was so long ago

I have been stripped down to raw bones
Bleeding inside, a gaping hole is left
From whence my heart used to beat
Alas, I fear it leaves me feeling so cold
Even though I still feel the fires of Hell
Phantom 2011 (alias Chris Smith....Beautiful Words)
 Jan 2011
Phantom Byron Lorde
Standing in the dark
Living with my void
Afraid of the mirror
Of all it destroyed

Crying in my shadows
Stinging tears of pain
Flowing down my face
Time and time once again

Trying hard to understand
The bleakness of my day
Uncertain of why this life
Decided they had to take her away
From the story Beautiful Words by Chris Smith
The rain falls like daggers
My mortal soul staggers
Washed in this darkness
Trapped in a void so endless

My eyes refuse to see the light
Only demons gnaw at my sight
For who can come to rescue me?
Make complete a soul so empty

I am here if you call my name
Let me be the one to take the blame
Show me how I can start to begin
Please trust me and let me in

You never need to face it alone
Do not suffer these arrows on your own
Come and hold my hand, there is nothing to fear
I want you to know I am always going to be here




copyright Chris Smith 2011
Byron Lorde poem

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