I’ve polished the marble of these statues for far too long
hoping one day they might move,
but as magnificent as they are,
our conversations have grown stale…
I feel the beauty in your eyes taking in
the life that boils from inside my heart,
this endless river that could melt stone…
seeing both my power and fear,
you, with your unwavering eyes,
have plunged your sword of Love in between my ribs,
and only after a gentle kiss to ease the shock
you drag me into the mud beneath these monuments,
pulling phantoms from my chest,
imploring me to destroy my creations,
my leaning posts of false courage,
to face the morning sun,
climb atop the ruins of my soul
and create those worlds within worlds
that scream from the depths…
Ryan, I truly saw myself in your poem, and what a beautiful poem to be drawn into!
“…Climbing atop the ruins of my soul…” by leaps and bounds, clamoring as I had never done before, love me more!
Your poetry speaks to me; I love the way you explore the dichotomies of existing realities against breaking free into deeper, broader levels of being.
@Katherine awesome! “clamoring”, love that here…
@Erika thank you, and that is such an excellent and succinct way of describing what drives my poetry. Nailed it. I’m always trying to process just what you said through writing.