Poems without names

Poem's without names

by M.S.Tarot

(I have a notebook full of dark private ramblings from one of the sadder periods of my life. I had lost the woman who for the most part all but raised me. I pulled away from every one so I couldn't ever be hurt that badly again. It took me eight years to find my way out of that dark time. Only some regrets, a few memories and this little black notebook remains for me of that time in my life.
What I wrote then for the most part can't really be called poetry but I'm willing to take a few bad comments if maybe something I wrote then gives anyone in the same dark place I was... a smile.)

In the mirror of your
Eyes I see my world
as it is.
Beyond light there is
Dark and beyond dark
there is Light.
Life is a shadow game
of gray and white.
Played by pawns with
dreams of what they
could be once they reach
The other side.

What is life
What is illusion
What is death
What is reality
A thousand questions
held by a million times
a million souls.
Yet why is no answer
given back to the
Fold.

I shall lift the Cup
of Life.
Drink deep my love
from my soul.
Shrink back not if
the taste should be bitter
or too sweet
or too cold.

If life is a game
and all the world a stage
Then are we actors who
play or players who
Act?

Chains and black lace
leather, silk and blue
satin....laughter.

Can a rose be not
a rose?
Can a bird be not
a bird?
Yet how is it that we
who call ourselves 'I' can
not be what we are?
We live, we love,
we dance, we cry.
The scent of a rose
wafts through our dreams
and to fly as a bird
is our dreams.

Dancing in darkness
Poetry in moonlight
By the stars we shall
play and walk
till the world departs
and we all are a
part of all there is

Feel the wind under
your wings. Ride them
hot and high till
the sun is all about
and the sky resides.
Be as one with the
dreams of Icarus

There are shadowy creatures
in the darkness we see.
From light they fly, forever
Lost.
Hidden, crawling, slithering
are they beast these things
or are they but a glimmer
of man's darker desires.
They say that Lust is one
of our baser emotions but
I must to disagree. For if
Lust is base then Love should
be a grander sort. Yet
fancy words aside, love is as
easily shattered as a glass
rose.

When in Life there comes tears
With heart of sorrow and night
bitter rain
When in darkness of soul, or
shadowy realms of dream
you and I shall in hand
face all of life's trials and
every challenge answered.
Shall that gentle night come
swift then let shadow's quake
with the dawn shall all dark
mirrors grow bright save one.
In my heart I shall never know
the light that brightens your
life in a glow so dazzling
as to enshroud my eyes in
death's own shadow. Without
the light you cast upon my
heart to a cold stone shall
all have become.
Why cries the night such
Bitter tears.

Would have
Could have
Should have

An endless circle guilt

To me all music is
a spiral of sound
Inwards ever deeper runs
tone and harmony till
in the writhing twists at
the heart of all spirals is
lost not note one yet
the song ends.

(I'll let these stand for now. I have a hundred pages more worth of these. Some longer, some barely a few words. To quote from a movie "Just his mind poured out on paper" The idea of taking the permanent solution to a temporary problem was there with me for most of those years. Towards the end of the book my loneliness will start to show more. Then the very last one, with tearstains blurring the ink, is when I met my wife. If you're in that dark place, time will bring you light.)

M.S.Tarot