A (wise) man of two faces

Lost

I’m feeling all alone
while drifting out at sea –
won’t someone come along
and please come rescue me.

There’s holes within my sail
and water in my hold.
I don’t think I’ll prevail –
I see the Divine fold.

But whipping from the black,
I feel the Devil’s hand
that slowly drags me back,
crushing my promised land.

I struggle ‘gainst his grips,
with all that I can give.
I hear his bitter quips
to “Don’t give up!” and “Live!”

At last we reach the shore
while gasping for each breath.
Why must I live some more
when I just wanted death?

Ooo, pass me that plate
it looks really good.
I’m treating my palate
to all this yummy food.

I pray all of your days
are filled with lovely sights
of life’s whimsical ways
and all of its delights.

The amber liquid in the glass
that’s my preferred evening booze;
while I can’t say that it has class,
it’s the one I always choose.

The rumbling voice of the crowd
and click and clank of silverware,
though numerous and quite loud,
cannot diminish my evening’s air.

A runny nose, a fever under my skin,
an aching body, and fits of coughin’…
The elementalism of disease:
a body’s burden but a mind’s tease.

My eyes are open,
my gaze is wide:
from the depths for the forest
to the roof of the sky.

– A little something I’d written for my eventual freestyle month.

I focus on each hour
to make it through the day
until I have the power
to live in my own way.

– requested by a certain someone. You know who you are, ^_^

How long have I pined
for a love with substance and with style
to fulfill my heart, soul, and mind?

How long have I looked, eager to find,
staying hopeful all the while…
How long have I pined…

It’s bittersweet and wretched kind,
making the sourest faces smile
to fulfill my heart, soul, and mind.

Searching always, sometimes blind
and other times with such guile.
How long have I pined…

But it can’t be bought, wined, or dined
and lies at the end of a long trial
to fulfill my heart, soul, and mind.

At long last, the journey behind,
we’ll look back on every blessed mile.
How long have I pined
to fulfill my heart, soul, and mind…

Do you have music in your veins,
that pulse of fire deep inside –
the kind you look for in soft refrains?

You pull it out with such sweet strains
of fingertips that grip and glide.
Do you have music in your veins?

Brought to life with such pains
you can hear in each note the pride,
the kind you look for in soft refrains.

Falling as gently as the rain
and rocking as hard as the tide.
Do you have music in your veins?

You refine it until all that remains
is a phantasmagoric, sensual ride,
the kind you look for in soft refrains.

That kind of passion never wanes
and takes the long years all in stride.
Do you have music in your veins,
the kind you look for in soft refrains?

– Dedicated to Toubab Krewe, without whom this poem would not exist.