Dark Lines

Beautiful Bubbles

2011-07-14T05:47:00.000-07:00

So it’s true, rumors about you,
I try to disregard them
but my faith is thinning,
like the bubbles.

Initially they were round
and colorful from every angle,
that was just first impressions.
and such impressions use to count for something.

Eventually, they disappeared and vanished.
Beyond the beautiful, transparent and transient.
I see through you, hopeless and worthless.
Off you go into thin air.

Copyright © Bujit Juleng Tan, all rights reserved

Rose Colored Glasses

2010-11-18T06:05:00.000-08:00

Time marches slowly while in the bloom of youth
and love seems as idyllic as it can be.
Your rose colored glasses frame your face just so
although unbeknown to you they will shatter eventually.

The folly of youth is that the lessons you will learn
won't be understood until youth is left behind.
While the folly of the old is that the lessons we have learnt
We would wish that we had known about in time.

I'd give you words of warning but why waste what little breath I have
when deaf ears is all such words would find.
I'd try to paint a picture of the way the world truly works,
But the ignorance of youth leaves you color blind.

You think yourself immune to the ravages of time
but there will come a time when time itself wins the day
and when mortality hits home and cuts you to the bone
it will be your turn to look to another and say

Time marches slowly while in the bloom of youth
and love seems as idyllic as it can be.
Your rose colored glasses frame your face just so
although unbeknown to you they will shatter eventually.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

In The Arms Of An Angel

2009-06-26T02:33:00.001-07:00

I woke and found an angel sleeping in my bed,
his wings folded neatly behind his back, a halo round his head.
His eyes were closed yet he smiled and me and held me in his arms
and I slept the sleep of angels as his magic worked its charm.
And as I slept I had a dream of a man who was good and true
the man who was my angel, for the angel holding me was you.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Dental Hygiene

2008-05-07T23:55:00.000-07:00

I threw away your toothbrush today.
It was worn and used, it's bristles bent out of shape.
Proof of the vigor that you applied to this daily regime.
It had been sitting there unused for some time,
a testimony to a destiny thwarted
by an equal lack of vigor in a different direction.

It didn’t look as sad as I though it would
its blue handle sticking out of the bin,
a single tear shed to accompany its departure.
The tear for the memories of the person,
of what might have been and now will never be.
But the toothbrush didn't know that of course.

In general, toothbrushes are easily pleased
and are mostly monogamous in their relationships.
A tendency not always echoed by those that wear them down.
Still, as it begins a new journey to the recycling plant
and my own emotions echo that journey in spirit,
I can't help but wonder what will become of us both.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Lost Inside Myself

2008-04-16T02:35:00.000-07:00

I am floating in a void of self discovery,
lost inside myself, fetal against the blackness.
Naked and stripped bare I shiver in the cold
as I remember the last words that I was told,
we can still be friends.

Those same words echo relentlessly around me,
lost inside myself they mock me in their perfect silence.
My heart shredded and ripped asunder
by the words you spoke, their sound like thunder,
we can still be friends

I bleed tears for what could have been,
lost inside myself, a possible future shattered.
What use to dream if the dream can never come true,
when all that's left are those words spoken by you,
we can still be friends

And so i retreat to the only safe place I know
and lost inside myself I carve out my heart.
What use is it after all except to cause me pain.
Better to live emotionless than to ever hear again
we can still be friends.

Better by far to stay lost inside myself.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

5 Liters to Freedom

2008-04-14T04:46:00.001-07:00

I lie here in this warm embrace hands by my side.
The scent of candles burning fills the room,
their glow warm and reassuring.
Light flickers as shadows chase one
another cross a tiled white wall.
In the background a whisper of music most alurring
as I drift in and out of memories.

No cry for help here, I've got it right this time
and crimson water laps about me
almost like a lovers touch.
My last words written in an unshaken hand.
As I take it upon myself to shed
this mortal coil that has constrained me so much.
Still I drift in and out of memories.

And so it is I pass the time
although for me time is finite now
my 5 liters to freedom surely almost spent.
And while others may disapprove of my departure
even call it a selfish endulgence
My heart can take no more of this punishment.
This drifting in and out of memories.

This drifting in and out,

This drifting,

this ....

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Karma

2008-04-14T04:43:00.000-07:00

There's a story that needed to be told
about how I felt for you.
Your choice is to listen or turn away
as you are often apt to do.

I gave you my heart and you betrayed me,
both in thought, action and deed.
You broke a promise sworn upon your heart
so its a heart I no longer need.

You have been weighed and found wanting,
your love shallow and untrue,
a falsehood from the beginning or so it seems
as it didn't mean anything to you.

I was blind to your manipulations,
your words seemed so real to me,
my trust misplaced, a withered heart embraced,
at least finally I'm free.

And so I turn my back to face you,
and without looking I walk away,
knowing what goes around, comes around
and that you shall feel what its like some day.

And at that time I hope you remember
amid the tears you cry in pain,
the promise you made, the love you betrayed,
when you caused someone else to feel the same.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Shiver

2008-04-14T04:39:00.000-07:00

A sudden rush of feeling rushes through me and i shiver,
a moment lost to panic that a glance should move me so.
And in that moment I drink in everything there is about you,
burnt into my mind the essence of a person I would know.
If I were an artist then to canvas this memory be rendered,
and painted in such colors that this world has never seen.
Or as a poet a new language would I invent to define you
for such words to describe you now there has never been.
I am moved and made useless by the scent of you that lingers
my senses overloaded with thoughts no longer mine
a sudden rush of feeling rushes through me and i shiver
as a passing glance from you has left me frozen here in time.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

I Stand in Silence

2008-04-14T02:55:00.000-07:00

Silence. My world has stilled,
all sound and movement held in stasis
awaiting a word from you.

Time itself, frozen,
my heart likewise in sympathy
as I wonder what you will do.

Will I remain ever thus,
until some other takes pity on me
and turns to warm my heart.

Or will you speak up now
your warm breath whispering
that we shall never be apart.

Like a single frame
held beneath the lamps glow
a fragile existence at best,

Will you let these feelings
be washed away on a sea of tears,
or with your word, put them to the test.

And so in stillness I stand,
balanced on a knife edge
wondering which way the blade will fall.

Is this the beginning of new chapter
in this journey through life,
or is the writing already on the wall.

I stand in silence, waiting.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Aham

2008-04-13T05:16:00.000-07:00

Oft times alone my thoughts turn to reflection
as I think of how short life truly is,
and of all that I shall never hope to do
overwhelmed by the simple necessity to live.
How I envy those born upon a silver spoon
no need to think of life as we simple folk do.
with sweat and blood our daily bread,
a diet most profoundly humbling.

And in those moments my thoughts turn to you,
and how that sun dispels the shade.
I smile naturally as my soul is warmed
and the doubts that assailed me start to fade.
Our own mortality is safely assured
a reward to all and impartially so,
my thoughts a mirror for countless other souls
itself a thought profoundly humbling.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Loves Torment

2008-04-03T16:47:00.000-07:00

Like a moth to a candle I was burnt by his flame,
its wings like my heart singed and torn.
Like a wilted flower that draws its last breath
my heart it lies heavy and forlorn.

Each breath becomes a struggle, a moment filled with pain
as the light of unrequited love grows dim.
For what use to love in a solitary world
when it means living and breathing without him.

Despair washes over me waves pound against the shore
while the rain that falls acid that eats my skin.
Bloody footed on jagged rocks I stumble and I fall
an empty hollow where my soul should have been.

Thunder is the chorus to the scream I unleash
and lightning echoes the frustration that I feel.
Color has disserted me, my world turned to shades of gray
I am disconnected from life and nothings real.

Into this pit of torment I have willing plunged myself
now bloodied I crawl back to the world of men.
And yet I live in hope that regardless of this pain
I will overcome this fear to love again.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

You Don't Deserve Him

2008-03-23T07:44:00.001-07:00

I looked into his heart and saw a darkness there,
a cancer eating him from within,
his love for you, you who don't deserve him.

Already his wrist has dripped rubies
his anger expressed, tempered by wisedom thankfully,
his anger at you, you who don't deserve him.

His love for you consumes him and he lives in hope,
a hope no doubt you will convince him to be real
you who don't deserve him.

And so I look on, relegated to the sidelines
and in my heart I hold onto something real
not like you, you who don't deserve him

You'll let him hear what he wants to hear
anything to pass the time for you
you who don't deserve him

and in doing so deny him of anything real
while the darkness grows and threatens his very sanity.
You put him in danger you who don't deserve him.

So I will wait as it's the only thing I can do
and hope that wisedom pervails and he escapes
from you, you who don't deserve him.

And maybe, just maybe the spark can become a flame
and in the flame his cancer burnt away as you
fade to a memory, you who dont deserve him

Until then I wait, crying silently, what else can I do.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Footprints

2008-03-23T07:09:00.000-07:00

With two minds they shared one thought
but the thought could not be spoken.
with two hearts they shared one pulse
a new rythmn in both awoken.

With two lips they exchanged one kiss
and passion burned bright within,
With one smile they both agreed
that a journey should begin.

With one step the rain disappeared
and the sun began to shine.
With the second step the skies turned to blue
as worries were left behind.

with the third step one looked back
and the rythm they shared it faltered.
And passions flame dimmed once again
as the pluse they shared was altered.

Yet with two minds they share a thought
and the thought remains the same,
For the journey they're on has just begun
and they've still many steps to claim.

So the pluse they share will beat stronger
as passions flame burns high,
for eventually this is apt to be
when two walk forward side by side.

So no matter where we are now
whatever the obstacles there are sure to be,
please take one hand and understand
that I'd have you forward with me.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

The Thing About History

2008-03-21T17:37:00.000-07:00

The rain falls as the angels cry
for heaven is being torn asunder,
and lighting flashes cross the sky
its passage marked by peals of thunder.

For angels are at war with angels
in parallel to the wars far below
as man turns on his fellow man
and childhood friend turns to foe.

And there's a child with gun in hand
he's playing at the same game of war.
His innonance a coin poorly spent
a life to be wasted nothing more.

And in the ground beneath his feet
his friends lie in heavenly slumber,
called to the father before their time
their silence even louder than the thunder.

And though its all been done before
it seems there's still lessons to learn,
and so history is bound to repeat itself
again, and again, and again.

Yes history is bound to repeat itself again.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Hearts Fire

2008-03-18T05:03:00.000-07:00

Pasion lives within me, tis but a smoldering spark.
not enough to warm me, but enough to stave the dark.
And rejoice I would if ever that spark became a flame,
but that requires the passion of another yet to name.

And though I would name you, fear keeps my lips shut tight
for a spark maybe nothing, but at least it offers light
and i have struggled from the darkness to find this meger flame
and have no wish to be pushed down to darkness once again.

so for now I will offer silence, and yet in this silence pray
that this spark i've nurished finds in you another just the same.
And then the two of us together can learn to put our fears aside
and allow passions flame to burn bright again, and never have to hide.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Forever, and ever Blind

2008-03-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

You make me sorry to be a member of the human race,
and loath though I am to admit it the world would be a better place,
if God stopped it for a second and took it in his care
to give you all the option of getting off right there.

You preach tolerance and loving yet you yourself have none.
Your morals are double standards, you use religion like a gun.
And though no blood is ever drawn from the weapon that you wield
your words, akin to poison, foul the air I breath.

You blindly follow doctrine and expect others to do the same,
and cast those out that don't conform, those that go against the grain.
You are trapped in your mortality seeking salvation for your soul
and you justify your actions saying this should be my goal.

The inquisition is long gone but you keep the fires ablaze,
history conveniently forgotten, you continue to fan the flames.
You walk this world blindly, though you think your eyes open wide,
so pompous in your belief that God is always by your side.

After all how could he not be, for you live life by his law,
where bigotry and discrimination are concepts you ignore.
You preach love and understanding even though you fail the same,
Isolated from reality, you only have yourself to blame.

So don't quote me from your bible, I've evolved beyond that you see.
For God is in my heart which is the only place he needs to be.
You can shout out from your pulpit, let fire and brimstone fall,
I've heard your petty speech before, unimpressive all in all.

My wealth is beyond your measure and far beyond your ken
you who strive to place your shaky values among the hearts of men.
And as this world progresses, it is you who will be left behind,
Forever walking backwards, forever and ever ..... blind.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Communication Breakdown

2008-03-17T16:18:00.000-07:00

I was singularly unimpressed by the promises you made,
although not from the beginning it must be said.
You see you invitation to friendship never had a chance to fade,
it never started so it seems I was mislead.

I seem to attach more value to friendship than others do,
and once committed I remain committed to the end.
Maybe therein lies the difference between me and you,
a minor difference in definition but a common trend.

Now I'm not shouting from my soap box, for there is no wrong or right
and each is entitled to the opinion they may hold.
But oft times when words are spoken their meanings misconstrued,
and communication breakdowns leaves me cold.

So if ever we should meet again, or our paths should chance to cross,
please make no promises to me that you don't mean.
For then I can take at face value every promise that you make,
and misunderstandings will be few and far between.

And if you find this simple task to hard, or it cuts against the grain,
then if you should see me please look the other way.
For time is a precious commodity already in short supply
and I have none to spare for the games you hope to play

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

My Sorrow and My Pain

2008-03-16T08:53:00.001-07:00

I give up my heart too easily
that's my sorrow and my pain.
And though I've tried to keep it under lock and key
it seems it's got loose once again.
It's right there before you in plain sight
and for everyone in the world to see,
and though it's so, it seems you'll never know,
what it is you've come to mean to me.
Yes that's my sorrow and my pain.

You treat me worse that I've ever known
that's my sorrow and my pain.
I cling on and wait for just one kind word,
and fool that I am I feel no shame.
You completely ignore my emotions
and laugh at me when I turn away.
And though I wait for a sign, it seems you only have time
for the games that you want to play.
Yes that's my sorry and my pain.

So I'm going to take a step backwards,
that's my sorrow and my pain,
and cry for a while at the thought of a smile
that I can't ever let my heart see again.
So for all the hurt that you've caused me
for all that has been and can never be,
For the tears I have shed for a love that has fled,
oh how I wish you could know how THAT feels.
Yes, that's my sorry and my pain.

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved

Will You Let Me In

2008-03-14T22:15:00.000-07:00

Knock knock, knock knock, will you let me in?
hardened onto stone,
scared and weather worn,
my heart was shuttered tight,
yet in this darkness there was light,
and the comfort of calm familiar seas.

Knock knock, knock knock, will you let me in?
waves pounded on the dam,
tempest shook the calm,
thunder by lightning lead,
that rode skies overhead
as the seas lost the composure I had instilled

Knock knock, knock knock, will you let me in?
the relentless song
like the mermaid’s pulled me on
would I flounder on the shore,
or would I weather out the storm
to reclaim the comfort of those calm familiar seas.

For once love touched and then denied
the heart has bleed, the tears have dried
and the courage to repeat once again, has fled.
Yet the dream remains, and dreamers dream,
And who is to say which is real
even the comfort of those calm familiar seas

Knock knock, knock knock, will you let me in?

Copyright © Barry Smyth, all rights reserved