EmotionalOrphan Gallery | The Emotional Orphan **ALL NEW ART ADDED** <> http://ht.ly/k2h1u #Art #Poetry #iPhonesia #iPhoneography

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Innocent curiosity rewarded,

I stared hard into the mirror 

to put on my best face.

To find the courage 

to make a dream come true.

You laughed and were intrigued.

I heard you breathe

a sigh, a release.

You laughed and were intrgued,

and I was enchanted fully… 

Again.

<>

By Ocean sparkles

framed by dimples 

and starlight hair.

Alive again. Finally.

After eternity without, 

I saw you.

your presence was

not a requirement.

Not so now.

<> 

And so it began, 

the second time 

last April.

Had I forgotten 

something Id aways known, 

Was I remembering something 

Id just learned ?

Again.

<>

A memory in color ?

Or a black and white dream

like the first time

when I lifted my head 

to see through my haze

an angel 

shining brightly 

through the dark?

<>

You made all the choices 

eight months of the year

The rest?

I dreamed or remembered

Forgot or remembered

The angel chose the direction

and oceans no longer sparkled

armor comes crashing

and feathers float earthward

Slow motion -light

because all that is left is heavy.

<>

And me with my

Wings of Desire

dreaming, remembering

forgetting, remembering

That the curse 

of humanity is free will

and the price 

is eternity transformed.

Far Away, So close.

<>

I thought a black and white 

world of certainty,

held much more promise

than a technicolor world 

of chaos and confusion.

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__emotionalorphan__

I.

Ask the ghost in you

if my true spirit is a

worthy opponent

II.

I will give my love

and when you think I’ve run out,

I will give again.

III.

Here, where I’m waiting

it drives me silently mad,

quietly insane.

IV.

Can’t you see my arms,

are the arms strongest enough,

to defeat your fear?

V.

Warm breeze finds your hair

and as they play together

take my breath with it.

Breathe.

<>

Sitting at the table

the worlds problems being solved

He rolls the silvery blade

between his fingers.

 <>

An accomplished knife thrower.

One false move, or one true move

starts or ends it all.

Twinkling pink snowflakes dance.

<> 

The table.

The bloodline legacy.

Ten years of

grandfather’s pennies,

 <>

Time spent wondering,

past the mirror to his soul.

The worlds problems are

solved in silence and paranoia.

 <>

Wondering,

through the oak patina,

what that sheen looks like

from the inside out

 <>

when the smell was

of dirt and mold

not of nothing

and blood.

 <>

It started out so fresh.

The first so clean and free.

He loathed conceding

he was, wondering.

 <>

Which would be cleaner ?

Which would be more free ?

Shimmering pink snowflakes,

or hypnotic sparkling edge ?

 <>

Twirling silvery blade between fingers

The accomplished gambler

in his own Monte Carlo.

Waiting, for the one true move.

 <>

The ball drop into a numbered pit

on the spinning patinaed oak wheel.

the one false move that ends it all.

Twinkling pink snowflakes dancing.

 <>

Breathe.

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Many faces and much

murky darkness

separate us

over and over.

Then finally.

 <>

I am a lake.

 <> 

The lady of the lake

bends over me,

searches my regions,

and all that I am,

for what she really is.

 <> 

One hand in my head,

one in my chest.

  <>

Then she returns to

those liars,

the candles,

the moon.

  <>

Hypnotized,

burned,

or  gravitating

elsewhere.

  <>

I see her back,

reflected faithfully.

In  the mirror

smooth as glass

before it shatters.

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She rewards me

with tears and

agitating hands.

  <>

Resuscitated again.

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I am important to her.

She comes and goes.

She cums,

and goes.

 <> 

Every morning,

her face, though

like the sun I cant see

replaces darkness.

  <>

In me drowns

the young girl,

and in me the woman

rises day after day.

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A Fish Out of Water.

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The gestation and lifespan

of Love has been proven

to be equal to that of a child.

<>

If not aborted.

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If  not nurtured.

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As is sometimes the case.

The result is the same.

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Death.

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Nine month or less Love.

<>

Some might prefer

abandonment

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In a hospital.

at conception, or birth.

<>

Too overwhelming for

A child or another’s heart

<>

A western poet,

an eastern poet,

<>

neither abandoned.

<>

Not in a hospital.

<>

One fights to live.

One goes into hiding.

Resurfaces again and again.

<>

Or not.

<>

One is killed

In spirit-

<>

in memory, in effigy.

In honor of a lie.

<>

He loved too much.

Too overwhelming.

<>

A child given another heart.

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Not an isolated incident.

<>

No one is at fault.

No one is responsible.

No power to stop it.

It’s “The Human Condition.”

<>

It started in a nine month cycle.

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Not aborted.

<>

not nurtured.

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As is sometimes the case.

The result is the same.

Death.

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Too overwhelming.

And not an isolated incident.

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 JNV0809

Say something. Please

Long winded, with verve.

With dedication, depth, and feeling.

Something evangelistic.

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I need to hear you now,

to be rid of what I thought I heard before.

Death rattle, gasping, as the last breath of hope flees.

Escaping the way you wish to escape.

Silence sought, gasping too loud for goodbyes.

  <>

There is a disease, like a cancer.

Belongings are being divided, final tasks being done.

Or not. They seem the only important things left.

 <> 

Those who meant something, those who truly care are gone.

Purposefully forgotten or or simply nuisances,

as the respiration goes more quiet and slows.

  <>

The rattle gains hurricane force.

There is a calmness, a stillness.

A quiet before, during and after the storm.

Yet the rattle grows louder still.

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My love and I have failed you.

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No shelter from the storm.

Ride it out.

Come inside.The shelter is here.

Forget you love the rain.

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Say something. Please.

Do nothing. Please.

The Stress Of Choked Dreams

Bitterness Of An Unfulfilled Life,

And Unrealized Plans—

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With The Wear Of Held Back Tears—-

Is Exactly What The Doctor Said To Avoid.

<>

Salt From The Tears Clears A Pathway

For The Blood From My Bleeding, Wounded Heart.

<>

A Copper LifeBlood Smell Has 

Replaced Your Scent On My Pillow.

Sleep Rarely Comes. Dreams Never Again.

<>

Once Again, There Is Not Enough Blood To Drown.

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_emotionalorphan_

-jamh-

an angel

beautiful

with power to

save herself

by belief

sustained

fell harder than

mere mortals 

and was sentenced  

to this world

no longer

could she  

see heaven.

hear the

voice of

love

<>

wings melt

in warmth

even if only

from the sun.

«»

_emotionalorphan_

-jamh-

Drunk on the confidence that comes 

from finally seeing all the hope paying off 

I neglected the cardinal rule.

<>

There is always an enemy.

<>

Blissfully living in anticipation 

and for the second time in my life 

I never considered myself ever 

having to be alone again.

<>

I forgot.

There is always an enemy.

<>

I moved in and out of the days.

Taking them as they came.

Gladly, for each led to the next.

<>

I was getting prepared for 

Forever Beach,

a Home, 

with Sunshine , 

Laughter,

Grandchildren,  

and most importantly,

Rest in The Arms of 

The One.

<>

The Enemy…

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_emotionalorphan_

-jamh-