...Written After Work. It's My Only Excuse.

I humbly kneel before your grace
And ask a simple favor:
Grant to me thy warm embrace
Let me thy presence savor.
I find myself here—a stranger to
This land called Love and Joy,
But there’s not a thing I wouldn’t do
To be thought a man—not a boy.
So again I ask, likely in vain,
To stay with you forever.
I need you to cure life’s sick bane—
Indeed, you are my only endeavor.

—C.R.E.

A Quick Poem

Okay... It's short. And simple. I blame it on being a holiday weekend that I celebrate all too well.

Off to blow something else up. =)

In life, I’ve found,
Love abounds.
It leaps and runs
And overcomes.
It says “I do”,
Then stays true.
It finds, loses,
Bleeds, bruises,
Smiles, and frowns.
Love simply goes around.

—C.R.E.

Yet Another Poem

I started out on a journey
To find myself a peaceful place.
I needed to gather my thoughts,
To love the world, to be away from it,
And to wonder at the beauty of things.
In all my many searchings,
I never found such a place—
That is, until I met you, my beloved.
I found that peace in you.

—C.R.E.

A Stab at a Shakespearean Sonnet

It has been such a very long time since
Your beautiful smile graced my eyes’ channel.
But, though time may pass, I cannot convince
Myself to forget you through time’s annals.
I found it quite joyous to think back on—
Those times we spent in sweet, humble embrace
Holding solely to each other and none
Else, finding peace in one another’s grace.
But now I see things diff’rently, and cry
Out against thoughts of you and your bold ways.
No matter the method or way I tried...
I was alone at the end of our days.
You were poison, beloved, fast poison
That caused my very soul to shake with ill.
Addictive liquor, to me, and reason
To leave it all behind through pow’r of will.
But now I am longing for just a taste
Of you again— though 'way I’ll surely waste.

—C.R.E.

Ode to an Angel

The first time I held
That girl with
Skin as soft as cotton,
Eyes that burn like stars,
And a voice that
To this day
Resounds in my ears,
I felt hot and cold
All at once.
I have never felt
Closer to heaven
Than when I’m near
That Angel.
For surely someone so
Mighty and holy
That evokes such emotions
Within me—a simple man
Unused to things like
Love, affection, and joy—
Can only be called an Angel.
We are parted now,
But I will always look fondly
On the times I spent
With that Angelic being.
She continues to
Paint my life.

—C.R.E.

A Villanelle

Hey all, today I wrote a Villanelle... And didn't do much else haha. I stayed up until about four last night, unable to do anything but write... I got about twenty pages done of the first part of a story I'm working on. I'm not sure how it turned out yet--I'm a bit afraid to read it. How productive can any writing done at four in the morning actually be? Anyhow, I woke up around 11:30 and did a few things around the house. Then I talked to Nikki on the phone for a while and finished my Villanelle... Tell me what you think?

Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.
Alas, you could not halt their leave-taking.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Yes, they have gone, never again to cheer
The halls that are your soul’s earthly dwelling.
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.

But I am here, sweet one, to calm your fears—
So please, cease all your sorrowful wailing.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Whether in or out of this mortal sphere,
Together we’ll brave the night’s dark dreamings.
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.

Worry no more for them—our now-past peers.
We are only us, one in our loving.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

Now, when we lie cold and alone, you hear
The rasping breath of Death’s simple coming
Weep, weep, dear love, for now the night is here.
Come to me, love, and I will dry your tears.

—C.R.E.

A Few Simple Poems

So, for some reason I have just been writing a lot of poetry lately. Don't get used to it, but here are a few. Please, if anyone out there is listening, tell me what you think--if you like something, mention it, if something wasn't good, tell me! I want to know!

Moved On

Step out of my mind, love
Leave my sight and take
Your song from my ears.
But nothing can sever
Your tie to my heart.
It calls in the stillness of the night—
Calls out your soul’s name,
Searches every corner of
Every place that we ever visited…
But of course, you’d moved on
From those lesser realms.
You walk now with Higher Beings.

—C.R.E.

The Kingdom of the Brokenhearted

Hail, hail to the Kingdom of the Brokenhearted!
Thy streets are paved with well-wishes and bold-faced lies,
Thy citizens waltz to the music of an infamous band of Demons—
Wanton beings inciting Anger, Envy, Spite, Derision, and Mistrust.

I know of your demonic King and of his cruel royalty—and still
I come to you on bended knee to beg entry to your loneliness.
For nothing of your Kingdom, no Demon, no man, no despairing wraith…
Could show to me the exquisite pain that losing her has.

I long to bask in thy solitude, O city of Dark Dreamings.
I desire anything to change my mind from thoughts of her.
For I would rather spend an eternity alone with a million
Other Brokenhearts than spend the rest of a lifetime thinking only of you.

—C.R.E.


Love

The world, it seems, is smiling at me.
And yes, I believe the sun and moon
To be but estranged friends, longing to meet.
For now I know of the sweeter meats of life—
I have fallen irreparably in love.
Why do I love her? A silly question
Asked only by those who have never drunk
From the Seraphic Pools of Love’s pure feeling.
There is no singular reason for such an emotion—
No reasonable way to present such a happy madness.
Though I suppose I could simply counter,
“I love her for all the reasons a man can
Love a woman of her caliber.” It would not do
The blinding truth of the matter any form of justice.
For, my sad and inexperienced friend, if ever
A single sentence can describe a pure emotion such as this...
Then surely it is not so pure.
For though wise men say the most exquisite
Things in life are indeed the simplest,
Love transcends any attempts made by the “wisdom” of men.

—C.R.E.