If I Knew

August 8, 2015 § Leave a comment

The roads are long, winding, swings of dreams;
forgotten footsteps; and trickling rows of streams.
There’s cash to buy and absent ambitions to trade
in the oceans of the fade where so few dare to wade.

In the rivers of a trodden gulf, little can be bore —
less verifies in the gone markers across this shore.
They are the many and the many are the mass alone
with much to atone and everything is always homegrown.

In the end, the start has been an overlooked mistake;
the troubled lie awake while the troubling partake.
All the while, I’m tripping… stumbling behind the lead.
With lessons I won’t heed, I drown in cider mead.

Some words never spoken are yelled into deafened winds.
Laughter sounds like tears when passing mislaid friends.
I’m as I’ve always been and been as if I’ll never be.
I and I, you see, will, ever true, likely disagree.

I’ve been found. I’ve been confused. Either suffice.
My words are often grey while the thoughts are precise.
How did I suffer the nights of that awful, ceaseless day?
How did I suffer the days of that dire, boundless way?

In those drying oceans and so many saltless seas,
most are contented with doing as the many please.
I do best in the creek when summer rains refuse to fall…
like being a memory recalled — never remembered at all.

Under Cover Of Smile

February 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

Grossly involved in past and time,
living with reason, on broken dime.

Searching and needing, wanting.
Mistakes that stay, still haunting.

Survival, felicity, the need.
I try for you, just you. Lead.

I have discrepancies. Faults.
If you stay – that life halts.

Let me plead… I won’t.
If you go… please, don’t.

Turned about and scared.
Confused… here, I’m bared.

What can I say – what can I do?
I’ve got to stop, think this through.

The wound… will still be fresh,
in ten years’ time under aging flesh.

If you go… if you go will you return?
Or will this union slowly adjourn?

To hell with rhythm, to hell with flow.
I need you, I do – please, don’t go.

I need you. Don’t go. I’ll change and shift.
Don’t board. Don’t fly. Don’t drift.

These Images

February 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

You’re there on my bed, when I wake each morning
fading into the night where you now stay.
The hours after are filled with waiting.
I’m waiting for the end of each day.

I meet you in my dreams each and every night.
These images soothe this aching loss I keep.
Behind closed eyes is a world filled with us &mdash
A world where you and I will never weep.

Your arms are always open and warm.
Your smile belongs to me alone.
Nothing separates the us we are.
These images finally take us home.

There’s no anger, there’s no regret.
You love me one more time each night
and each night I can feel life again.
The world is friendly… yes, all is right.

These images tell what should have been —
Of how I see and feel within.
They only tell how life would be
if it were to be again.


I’m still writing small pieces on the side while I work on the novel. I’ve been at poetry lately. Feeling a bit rusty in that area, so I’ll just flex out those muscles a bit.

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with lingering passion at Alina Cathasach.

%d bloggers like this: