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Array ( [sid] => 155292 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => I Miss Their Voices [time] => 2009-11-23 16:31:53 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Silence once my company,
Cacophony with mind split in three.
Chattering away, whispers of evil
And yet my friend; stability, upheaval.

Ghost’s arms hug, never enough
But there, lingering, never leaving.
Cries, stroking my hair,
Or just imagining his hand there?

My imaginary ghost, my fear
I hold you, sickness, so dear.
But dark, enclosed, end if I let live
Could not die with merely a sigh,
A meaning to life I had to give.

Glimpsed of all I wished I had,
In form what my delusions meant.
To grasp solid uncertainty, blessed hell;
Could I with phantoms be content?

To taste and to believe in real, I could,
Missing the voices with now eerie hush.
Silent, I have no fallback, no last resort
A mere stumble, my fragile frame crush.

Silence where they once spoke,
Guided, loved, entertained, all gone.
To discover the real which they did cover
Was not worth battling the stranger, lover.

I should only be so content,
To have real and true, not contrived
Not imagined, not a reaction to decay
And still somehow I wish
I could send the reality far away.

And hug again my pillow, my ghost
Tell myself what I need to hear, believe
And believe it, for once, for only
Do the imagined I think cannot deceive.

No company could I keep such as myself
With abandon abound, faces all around,
And still I long to hear them all,
The voices of my childhood. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 169 [topic] => 16 [informant] => Chamaron [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 8 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => FriendshipPoetry )

I Miss Their Voices

Contributed by Chamaron on Monday, 23rd November 2009 @ 04:31:53 PM in AEST
Topic: FriendshipPoetry

Silence once my company,
Cacophony with mind split in three.
Chattering away, whispers of evil
And yet my friend; stability, upheaval.

Ghost’s arms hug, never enough
But there, lingering, never leaving.
Cries, stroking my hair,
Or just imagining his hand there?

My imaginary ghost, my fear
I hold you, sickness, so dear.
But dark, enclosed, end if I let live
Could not die with merely a sigh,
A meaning to life I had to give.

Glimpsed of all I wished I had,
In form what my delusions meant.
To grasp solid uncertainty, blessed hell;
Could I with phantoms be content?

To taste and to believe in real, I could,
Missing the voices with now eerie hush.
Silent, I have no fallback, no last resort
A mere stumble, my fragile frame crush.

Silence where they once spoke,
Guided, loved, entertained, all gone.
To discover the real which they did cover
Was not worth battling the stranger, lover.

I should only be so content,
To have real and true, not contrived
Not imagined, not a reaction to decay
And still somehow I wish
I could send the reality far away.

And hug again my pillow, my ghost
Tell myself what I need to hear, believe
And believe it, for once, for only
Do the imagined I think cannot deceive.

No company could I keep such as myself
With abandon abound, faces all around,
And still I long to hear them all,
The voices of my childhood.

Copyright Â© Chamaron ... [ 2009-11-23 16:31:53]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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