SpaceCowboy
06-08-2012, 11:21 AM
Here's a couple poems I wrote about 3 years ago.
Sunrise
It's too much. I wake up. Its 5 or so in the morning this time. I lay on my back..Staring at the ceiling..Feeling as if I just laid down for the first time all night. I have too much on my mind. And at the same time I don't have enough. Thus the struggle ensues. There's no point in going back to sleep. Im already up. As my mind starts to fully awaken from the night, I feel the compulsive thoughts coming on. I feel the anxiety. The only freedom I seem to get is the first five minutes of opening my eyes.
bliss
I reach for my smokes. Needing something to do. More then just a nicotine 'fix'. It's still dark out...Barely..The sky is a light black, and I can sense the sun slowly creeping up from its slumber..Even the sun sleeps better then I do. I light my smoke. Automatically my mind races to what im going to do after I'm done smoking. But I ignore it. It doesn't matter. I decide to not be so afraid like always.
And then I see it. A glimer of sunshine peeking up from the horizan. As I anticipate its rising, I look at my ciggerette. Will it last the whole sunrise? Will I need to light another? Does it matter?..No...It doesn't. I ignore the compulsive questions once more. And as my mind is battling with itself, I notice the sun getting braver. Slowly coming up, to assume its daily duty of giving the earth life and heat. Such a heavy burden. Sometimes I wonder if the sun will ever get so fed up with not being appreciated that it will refuse to rise. Condemning us to eternal darkness. But thankfully, the sun doesn't hold grudges.
The sun doesn't miss a beat. It continued to find its place in the sky, like it does everyday. I throw the butt of my ciggerette to the ground. the soft sizzle of the morning dew puts it out. the butt is the only sound there was to prove reality exist. As if the sun wasn't enough.
___
Sunset
As I sit here, with half a cig left, I take time to look up at the sky. I watch the sun quietly disappear behind the deserts horizan. And as the sun bleeds out the last of its reds and oranges, I can't help but think that this could be the last sunset I ever take for granted again. And as I sit here, desperately trying to just enjoy the moment, I can't help but think that all the moments that make life worth living are just moments. They live and die. Like the ritual of the sun.
The moments gone. The sun has set, and as the absence of its heat leaves me in the familiar, lonely, darkness of the night, I can't help but think that the sun will rise again
Sunrise
It's too much. I wake up. Its 5 or so in the morning this time. I lay on my back..Staring at the ceiling..Feeling as if I just laid down for the first time all night. I have too much on my mind. And at the same time I don't have enough. Thus the struggle ensues. There's no point in going back to sleep. Im already up. As my mind starts to fully awaken from the night, I feel the compulsive thoughts coming on. I feel the anxiety. The only freedom I seem to get is the first five minutes of opening my eyes.
bliss
I reach for my smokes. Needing something to do. More then just a nicotine 'fix'. It's still dark out...Barely..The sky is a light black, and I can sense the sun slowly creeping up from its slumber..Even the sun sleeps better then I do. I light my smoke. Automatically my mind races to what im going to do after I'm done smoking. But I ignore it. It doesn't matter. I decide to not be so afraid like always.
And then I see it. A glimer of sunshine peeking up from the horizan. As I anticipate its rising, I look at my ciggerette. Will it last the whole sunrise? Will I need to light another? Does it matter?..No...It doesn't. I ignore the compulsive questions once more. And as my mind is battling with itself, I notice the sun getting braver. Slowly coming up, to assume its daily duty of giving the earth life and heat. Such a heavy burden. Sometimes I wonder if the sun will ever get so fed up with not being appreciated that it will refuse to rise. Condemning us to eternal darkness. But thankfully, the sun doesn't hold grudges.
The sun doesn't miss a beat. It continued to find its place in the sky, like it does everyday. I throw the butt of my ciggerette to the ground. the soft sizzle of the morning dew puts it out. the butt is the only sound there was to prove reality exist. As if the sun wasn't enough.
___
Sunset
As I sit here, with half a cig left, I take time to look up at the sky. I watch the sun quietly disappear behind the deserts horizan. And as the sun bleeds out the last of its reds and oranges, I can't help but think that this could be the last sunset I ever take for granted again. And as I sit here, desperately trying to just enjoy the moment, I can't help but think that all the moments that make life worth living are just moments. They live and die. Like the ritual of the sun.
The moments gone. The sun has set, and as the absence of its heat leaves me in the familiar, lonely, darkness of the night, I can't help but think that the sun will rise again