For Now

For now, I am confused and lost,

I feel as though the words which

Pass my lips are not my own.

I am facing a moral dissonance

Which is dredged across the

Fibers of my being—I am floundering

And falling. I am unable to deal

With the being who lives within my flesh.

And in my search for meaning,

I have come to the conclusion

That all life’s purposes are subjective

And any motivation is frivolous.

Love and hate are not differentiated

By their consequence, for they

Both end the same—in death.

The words I speak cannot be authentic;

My physical form is ever-changing

And is apparently only a fraction

Of my being’s totality.

For now, life has no purpose—

My ambition has been emended.

For now, happiness and apathy

Seem equally appealing—

But perhaps someday I my regain

My true thoughts and relearn

How to live this life.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Final Words

These cannot be the last words we speak,

For they do not definitively deliver the dreary

Emotions which are bound to cast

Me into turmoil for days or weeks…

A millennium of moments must still exist

Or else I am failing to acknowledge

My thinly veiled disbelief.

The words that have passed your lips,

Do not yet inspire a need for comfort

Or the yearning to retreat into my bedroom—

To curl within a blanket to bury my face

While the sheets dry my tears and keep me warm.

I have not yet begun to realize the ridiculous

Nature of human despondence,

Therefore a continued discussion must still

Be near. Final words do not promise

A continued dialog or mention

The possible occurrence of a next meeting.

A true farewell is copacetic in the mind

Of each member of the parting,

Because there exists both conclusions

And confessions—above all there is a mutual

Understanding that a tomorrow certainly

Does not exist. The words that have been spoken

Neither feel as though they have brought

Resolution, nor remedy to my fleeting sanity.

So I must believe I have yet to say goodbye

And I can continue to live my disjoint delusion,

And awake as if nothing has changed. 

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Sonnet III (The Forges)

In heaven, stainless fountains of gold stream

Downwards amongst the rows of polished moulds.

Next to the groves of forges, the smiths gleam

Their grins with sincere pride, whilst their ore folds

Into the peerless portrait of a girl—

A Gregarious masterpiece they’ve grown.

The smiths toil and trouble themselves to swirl

Metal pools into the purest face known—

The artists give her life, they give her eyes,

They give her a heart which will never break.

Upon her they bestow a mind to surmise

The beauty that exists to all who wake.

The artisans bellow their booming pride—

Shouting sentiment with delight untied.  

      DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

My Feet

I can neither feel my feet—nor see the ground below,
I walk precariously on a line I do not know.
And I’m afraid to show—bare my empty hands,
To a creation of catered determinates.
I cannot feel my feet! And I fear, and grovel,
Of the fantastic and utter messes I have constructed.
I bumble and fumble furtively, grasping
And denying finality and closing. The
Ground below slips and saunters, and I do
Not think to sit, my feet evade me as I
March, my feet betray me, with bravery sought.
I cannot sense the ground below my character,
How could I create a more clouded world?
I cannot feel my feet… But I seek, I
Have sought and searched, Besought
And lurched—I have unearthed an undetermined
Expedition on unexploited reasoning—
To my utter and complete frustration…
But the ground slides and shuffles in a
Simple but sleight handed fashion,
I have lost elegance to alluring augmentation,
And become perturbed by reminiscent
And pondering passion.
I cannot feel my feet, and I cannot walk straight,
I can neither follow the path I have sought,
Nor dare to walk along wakeful tracks.

DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot,com

The Flower

For it seems, I did not steal a passing glance

To keep with me through summer’s trance—

I let my line of sight caress the bricks’ history,

The bloodied tale that I sought to create—

The unravelled cover of a shrouded mystery.

I did not waver, upon my callous endeavour,

Hopeful the image held would last forever—

For perhaps, during the moment, I was akin

To a kindly sort, two hundred years my senior—

Who also denied the courtyard’s grin.

And the chickadees cuddled within the wings

Of a flowered tree surely built for kings.

Perhaps the wistfulness I felt was from doubt,

Etched into the stones beneath my feet,

And the unbudded lilies which would come about.

From Gargoyled creatures came a moaning,

Of all the secrets held, the pensive droning

Poised to be added to the storybook—

A staple of melancholic attitude adhered to

Beneath brevity and a breathless look.

Adjacent to the brick, I have become the lore,

Among the nameless who have walked before.

I did not break my eyes from the unfledged tower,

For I could not bear to brood upon the serenity,

Of the garden’s one and only flower.

    DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Forget Me

I watch you forget me, break memories forged,

As I’m left in loneliness, your memory to linger

You speak calmly through shrouded mystery,

Unknowing of how each word you speak

Has an effect on me.

And the hardest part is to pretend

That I don't hold you dear. 

I shift to the edge of my seat as you appear,

And I can feel my heartbeat flutter when you are near—

But hope is dashed when you are next to me;

We might as well be miles apart.

You smile and laugh, while I hold a grudge,

Angry of how you don’t understand.

I torment myself behind closed doors—

Trying to find why I have been forgotten,

Do I speak too much or not enough?

Do I cross your thoughts or am I a dream?

I’m left without hope when you are here,

And I watch you look right through me.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Flawed Minds

Anything can feel important

If we infuse it with meaning,

Even an item as simple as a napkin

Can provoke enough emotion

To render us speechless—

For we are the ones who define it.

It isn’t the napkin itself

But the importance weighed within it.

Because that is human nature,

To personify every item around us

So when we are left sitting alone

We can evade the loneliness

That’s bound to come.

We can lie to anyone in this world

But ourselves.

There is one person we can’t hide from—

One person who knows our secrets.

Left alone in hate, envy and lust—

Forever soiling our minds.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

The Feeling

It gets in your head until you lose all sense of control,

Wave goodbye to who you are,

And wave goodbye to all you’ve ever known.

It becomes more than a want,

And it becomes so hard to breathe—

You can’t look her in the eyes,

Without the feeling of need.

You can’t speak to her,

Without feeling your heart sink.

She won’t be thinking about you,

When you’re not around.

She won’t be thinking about you

On the nights you can’t sleep.

She won’t be the one to keep you from breaking

Or be there to build you back up.

She won’t’ be the one to share your dreams.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Frozen

She sits mere feet away, so close I shutter,

But I can’t say hello, can’t look at her either.

I pretend not see her and hold my breath

Until I turn the corner and let it go.

I try to find the reason for my silence—

Between her beauty and my shyness

I feel as though I’m sinking slowly—

There’s nobody here to save me.

Her smile is a figment of my dreams,

And I wonder if she knows of it.

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

From Afar

I sit and watch the people walk by outside,

And I smile knowing you’ll never know—

Or ever care of the way I’ll feel.

I laugh bashfully when you tell a joke,

But you tend not to notice the moments

I’m so nervous I can’t speak.

I watch couples holding hands

And think of how we never will,

So I walk down a different street

Just so I will run into you, accidentally—

I pass right by everyday,

But I still haven’t figured out hello.

I had a dream once

That we held hands all night and day—

And then I awoke alone,

Wondering when you would appear.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

      

Far Away

Clearly we are not from the same world,

And perhaps we will never truly meet

The way I imagine in my dreams.

We will grow apart until the sun burns out,

Remain distant until the end of time.

Hearing who you are burns my ears

And I can’t listen to where you’ve been.

I will never believe the slander I am told;

I will take my hope to the grave.

Your world doesn’t serve me well,

I get lost quicker than you know.

I just want to be the one that says goodnight,

I want to leave these lovestruck nights behind.

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Fate

Fate is drawn from hope,

And thoughts so painful—

You suppress them all your life.

The stars never seem to align

The way you wish them to;

For hesitation lights the way

To your hidden desires.

Your mind doesn’t change,

But becomes a burden,

Whispering secrets and distress—

Teaching you to believe in fairy tales.

You begin to wish that someday

You will be bound to fly away

From the memories you left behind—

Dreams you wanted but decided

Would be better to live without.

Fate tests you—knocks you down,

Brings you to your knees

But still you seem to live—

You seem to live without.

       DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Five Days

On the first day I thought I was doing just fine
but I began to realize something was missing from my life.
I searched and searched but something was always missing.

The second day came and panic began to set in.  my words were slurred,
my entire body began to shake. I drove myself insane
searching for something that I would never find.

By the third day, I was lying on the floor trying to find a reason to breathe.
It felt as though my life was over, I saw no reason to believe in anything;
I didn't think that anything better was going to come around.

The fourth day brought a sharping in my emotion, I began to snap from depression.
Hope began to sink in and so I found myself acting selfishly;
I wanted to stay in my depression but you wouldn't let me.

On the final day—the fifth day—I was excited to see your face again,
it felt as though all would be right again. My only regret is,
by the end of the night you were gone and I was left alone.
       DannYetman
http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/

The Faces Fade

The faces come, and the faces fade,

the faces come and so I begin to hate.

The days have all come to pass,

but sill memory sits upon my chest.

My heart beat stutters,

against the weight upon my chest.

Everyday comes to waste,

everyday I've come to hate,

Time tells me I can never regress,

time shows me things

I can never forget.

     DannYetman
http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/ 

For Them to Stare

Her vision is blurred,

but I see her fail.

Her vision is blurred,

with the tears that failed.

She cries to their faces,

But they don't care,

She's another pretty face.

For them to stare.

Her eyes bubble everyday,

but they look towards her hips.

Her life is broken everyday,

As I wait for a smile upon her lips.

                            DannYetman 

http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/ 

Failing Still

From first to last you were always there.

When the whole world was smiling

You laughed at their sinful stories,

And so too came the words;

When the world was jaded,

You said you were jaded too.

When we were all failing,

You said you were failing too.

                     DannYetman