Blue

Freedom exists at the end of this passage,

A moment that may be mine—happiness

And peace of mind. I dream of the tranquility

That may be captured to end all calamity,

The perception of meaning, true sobriety,

That must be nearing. All the words

In the universe cannot do justice

To the completeness, the empowerment

Of knowing the truth—the greatest passion—

Which evades all men. I am ready to let

Go of the pages, the human desires

Which bind me to this plain, plastic form—

My body withers and my mind meanders.

Life has become all backwards, where logic

Is defined as nonsensical drivel.

Suddenly I am staring at strangers,

With empty expression, wondering how

I have grown attached to empty faces

When lust has blinded me to joy

And the simplicities life may bring.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Burning

There are lights burning, through the night,

A world that exists when the sun goes down.

There are metaphors sealing hidden doors,

Buried so fully, they will not be unearthed.

Men evolve and steal secrets, so that they may

Have them as their own and wed new tales,

Adventures only partly belonged.

They speak of love they have never felt,

And the candle, they have witnessed

Burning against insurmountable circumstance.

Somewhere not far from here, the same

Words are weaving through lips, undeserving—

Finessed speak that is forged and fruitless.

Dejection is smiled upon, with laughter abroad

As calloused lips and blistered tongues

Come to meet, passionless pandering

That is both revolting and simply odd.

To the same cheeks that flap weakly,

Fate smiles cruelly to the rhythmic,

Symmetrical drivel that is uttered coolly,

And coiled about like a serpentine being—

An embodiment of edgeless languish.

Upon their vessels, the voyagers ramble,

And steal stories that have never been…

     DannYetman

www.DanielYetman.com

The Beauty That Never Fades

Hers is a beauty that can never fade

Because hers is a beauty of the heart

And benevolence always outlives

The shadowed day, and sunlit dawn.

It is not through a voice that words

Are spoken, it is through silence,

And speechless paradigms

That true kindness radiates…

And gleams, and shines, and beckons…

Flickers, gleams and calls

To the brightest star I’ve ever seen.

And if that light was taken from above,

Heaven would be the darkest dusk.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Bleachers Painted Red

Bleachers painted red, as heroes take the field;

Hope carried through April to the fall—

From spring training until the season’s end.

New faces blend with old favorites,

As freshmen fill the shoes of a cities idols.

The crowd roars with each pitch,

As players creep from their winter homes—

The redbirds stretch their wings

After the long flight home.

A familiar face, lost before opening day

Is replaced with the young arms,

Fearless of the battles to come.

They are aided along the way

By players who became legends in October.

Injuries take their tolls, breaking minds

But never dampening souls.

The dog days of summer take over

And the wistfulness of last fall’s championship

Becomes a distant memory.

But as the leaves stain red to match a nation

The playoffs come again—

September magic a familiar friend.

One game, so it all becomes—

One game to live or die.

Players sit calmly on the bench,

Knowing what it is to preserver.

For on this October night

Bravery is not enough—

The redbirds are headed home again,

To defend the crown, rightfully theirs.

A single strike from defeat,

A pitch away from the season’s end—

They amaze a nation once again

They live another day.

But the bats grow cold as frustration mounts,

They are David against the Giants—

This year

There will be no parade in St Louis,

No championship rings to adorn fingers.

But on a silent October morning,

When last night is a memory more distant

Than victory the year before,

Heroes return home, to lick their wounds

And prepare once again

For the Championship they deserve.

DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Behind Closed Doors

The world becomes darker behind closed doors

When there’s nobody there to see you,

No eyes there to judge you,

Nobody to tell you not to hurt yourself.

The negativities which loam over you

Become your only friends in the room

And all you can think of

Is how insignificant you are—

You call yourself a failure

Because there’s nobody to argue against you.

There’s nobody to stand witness

As you destroy yourself—physically—

Nobody sees the deterioration

Of your mind.

When the door closes you are left

To make your own mistakes

And to find joy in your own world.

Through the window you see seasons change,

But behind the curtains you stay the same,

And you claw and bang against the walls,

Knowing that you are stuck.

The world becomes grey behind closed doors,

With nobody there to save you. 

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Broken Vision

At this moment my head is flooded

With every word I’ve ever wanted,

But I’m caught in a fog—inhibition at its best—

Which always seems to hold me back.

I look at you and hope for anything but silence,

Your eyes dodge mine—I’m staring at the ground,

Cursing myself for being born without a voice.

You have so many reasons to smile,

And I want to be one but I can’t—I can’t—

I freeze up and end up counting stars—waiting.

And for some uncertain contingency  

I have been given so many chances

Which have come and passed me by.

I worry that under some dire circumstance

Today will the last time I hear your voice—

Today will be that last time I see your face—

Today may be where our paths divide.

      DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Beyond Late Nights

You run when you try to stay grounded,

You wish when it’s time to act.

You look back and try to remember

Why you ever thought you should leave.

Torn away without a mind to ask why,

Your voice is useless here.

So you sit and try to write,

Your words will never be enough—

You are nothing, but a side road

On the pathway to regret.

Your mind betrays you

And your mind leaves you.

There’s nothing left but the shell of you.

Time means nothing, for soon you will fade,

Leave this road one more time—

Live the story you tried to write but quickly failed.

Lose yourself in a world far away,

This surely is not how you should act.

      DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Beautiful Girl

Some part of her wants to fall in love—

Live the fairy tale she grew up believing

But long ago faded from her mind.

She stares at stars on stormy nights,

Dreaming about the one moment

She has been imagining all her life.

From her terrace built with lattice,

She grows red roses in the garden

And cuts the thorns promptly so.

The cause of her reflection weighs

On a mind delicate and fragile—

The only mind she has ever known.

Behind her eyes true temptation lies,

Slowly she lets seamless desire rest—

I am silent as she leaves dreams behind.

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Born to Dream

What am I supposed to do on nights

Where I dream circumstances that will never be?

Hidden desires and passions camouflaged

So plainly they stand within your view.

Dreams so vivid, I awake questioning

What is real and what is make-believe—

I awake wondering where you are,

And why my heart is pounding still—

The world passes silently, carefree;

I’m stuck in a moment that will never be real,

Hearing voices that surely will not exist.

I’m lost deep within the chambers of my mind,

Holding a moment with you, I will never live.

      DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Barely Alive

We are all falling apart to different degrees,

Limbs flailing, scarcely connected—

And hearts with murmurs skip beats,

Thinking of love and human inventions.

Metacognitive of fleeting seconds,

And eyes that will never stare back.

Sometimes we begin to wonder,

Who it is living in our dreams—

The face we see every night,

Before and after we go to sleep.

The world that we have built so soundly,

Is being torn to the ground around us—

Soon lovers meet and pass;

Cloudy eyes are left when nothing else is;

Your face is left, when nothing else is.   

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Black Sheep

My head starts to spin; I barely can open my eyes—

My thoughts are calm, the usual, but my hands shake

I think that tonight I am afraid (of how my heart may ache).

Pick me off these streets and burn the reciprocity of my lies.

Burn it into my brain, make sure that you cut deep—

Build a perfect solider from this black sheep.

And let the fight be clean, for one shot at fame

I’ll kill my brother—bloodlust ears hear no names.

Cut my hand and let me bleed on a stage,

Take my identity, tear it and hear me wine;

Tonight I’m not me—tonight I am blind,

I am but a sheep, stuck in a simple cage.

Free, free, free—free once upon a time.

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Butterflies

My memories flutter through the sky like butterflies,

They die one by one, shredded as easily as paper—

Their colors are all that remain now; violet,

Indigo, and scarlet paintings resting on a stone walkway.

I watch one by one all my memories die,

Chapters of my life turning into vapor,

I never thought my life would come down to butterflies

Fluttering, fluttering though the sky.

You are just one, beating your wings,

When you die the rest shall survive—

Beating, beating their fragile limbs.

      DannYetman
http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/ 

Born Alone

As an hour goes by,

it is to my eye,

just an hour

to live and die;

to make amends

and to save a friend.

As an hour goes by

can you see mine eye?

Living for an hour

asking not to die.

       DannYetman

http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/