Thoughtless

The speech will be sputtered systemically,

As if rehearsed for an indefinite amount of time—

Memorized precisely—but removed

From conscious thought by the fear arisen.

The voice may quiver incoherently, for

That is the way words have always been spoken—

And the moment will never last, no moment

Can ever last. The brevity—though poetic—

Will be dangerously benign and brisk.

Smiles will be had and tears will be shed,

Because despair has become expected,

And such an emotion has no other outlet.

The human heart will not subscribe

To rational thought, it never does…

Logic learned is easily dismissed by

The first delivery of laudation—

A lust completely devouring,

An unsought feeling of forever 

Being amiss. 

Alas

Alas, the dream you once had, fades from your eyes,

Watching footsteps past longing eyes—

The weary smile which marks the greatest goodbye.

Those hands, soft as silk, sharpen the blow—

Beauty comes, beauty passes, beauty changes

Like the seasons or leaves that dance merrily

Upon your head on an early autumn afternoon.

It’s not the words you speak but those

That get lost somewhere within your throat

Which cause your grief.

It is not the tears but the final gaze

That lingers—becomes a memento of

Ephemeral grace.

Alas, all the days you could have described

Humble brilliance became lost in reticence—

Caught beneath the greater umbrella

Of your fear and reluctance to speak.

Beauty crumbles, beauty is built up again—

Beauty is plastic like the script you read.

You are captivated with kindness, the simple act—

Of compassion, which evades you such.

The deepest sorrow is built, from

The illusion you built—dreams—

From which you wake, to clear your head,

Desperate to return again—to the moments

Of timeless grace

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Dear George

I’m just one more fallen solider, buried in sorrow,

Open wounds festering beneath my chest—

So tell her, tell her please,

Where my true thoughts lie.

I think I’d like to go home one more time,

And see the summer through a child’s eye,

Play on those rusted down swings

Until our mothers call us home.

So Please, before I’m gone,

Tell her where my true heart lies,

The one I’ve hid so well.

I’ve no pride left to swallow,

No tomorrow to live for.

I’m just one more fallen soldier, lost in time,

I can watch all dear to me fade away—

The memories I carry die with me,

Nobody to remember the valley,

Where the roses grow in rows.

And oh, hold my hand in my dying hour,

For one day I thought I’d go back

And pick one of those pink florets

To give to her… What I wouldn’t give,

To see her smile one more time.

What I wouldn’t give to be the one

To make her day, elate her

From dawn to the sun’s final hour.

Leave me here now, a fallen solider—

Leave me to brood over lips

That will never meet.

        DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

The Storm

On the eve of the supposed storm,

I stood in line all night, at the store—

And with my gaze, I undressed the roses,

Fickle, thorned—beauty in their deceit.

But then, from amidst the animosity,

One plain orchard stood bold before me.

Petals violet—leaves vast and preened.

As I swayed to solidify my disbelief,

I hesitated and withdrew my reach.

At that moment, I wanted to give

The flower to you, more than I cared

To take my next breath.

I racked my brain, fantasized of stealing

The lissome plant to leave on your step,

So the beauty I saw may have imbued

A sweeping smile across your lips

While you carried it in with you,

And placed it on the ledge nearest the fridge.

But alas, such grace and superfluous behaviour

Is well beyond my capability... So I sit,

Reminded of the orchid that I never gave—

The smile that I did not create.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

In Eden's Footsteps

How I miss the whispers we will never speak,

Through the mirror in the world that does not exist—

You are there, your smile lights the path

Of a thousand wandering ships.

Serendipity follows like a lost puppy,

Biting at your heels with every step you take.

And in that world the lonely son's soliloquies

Do not go unheard, for you are there to listen—

But through the mirror, to the world we live,

My voice goes mute as if I choose not to converse.

A thousand nights for a thousand ships, each goes by,

As I take for granted the one character

Who smiles when our eyes meet and who isn't

Just another placeholder I write to take up space.

But I thought you deserve to know,

I tremble silently in the dark when you're no longer near—

Happiness squandered just to live a life apart,

The saddest sight I have ever seen—through the mirror—

In Eden's footsteps, leading your fleet of ships.

    DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Aging

Aging

I drag myself out of bed with heavy legs,

And shadows beneath my eyes.

I creep forward, bowing my head over a basin,

Afraid to meet my own gaze

In the mirror above.

My hands shake, as I humbly try to lift my face;

Nothing has changed

But my skin is no longer familiar of my own.

I still look on with the same imperfection,

Carry the same scars to remind me of my flaws.

My voice is the same—I still mumble when I talk.

I speak words no different than before,

Same cadence, same stutter, same fear

But the mouth from which they depart

Is no longer my own.

I still live in the same isolation

And bury my emotions deep within—

Still quiet when I should feel the need to speak.

But the gaze looking back at me is not my own—

I died today before I first woke up;

When I took the first step out of bed

My new life became real.

The identity that was once me

Exists no longer.

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

DannYetman

Memories That Rest

I wish I caught every tear you wept,
Stood proud, open arms before you left.
The lust passes and the years follow,
The reality we are born into is hard to swallow.
I am a mouse among men,
But still with passion until my end.
You are the marauder who captured me,
And drowned too, beneath the sea.
In an embrace held short, I live,
There is no crime I would not forgive.
Trying to find life and breath
We are forgotten, left for death.
But still I wonder if within your chest
A piece of me may forever rest.
     DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Lost

I stand here in front of you tonight,

Caught between a moment and a memory.

Passion takes hold and guides me beyond—

Beyond hope, beyond desire, beyond dreams.

I have spent my life trying to stand here,

In front of you with the moonlight at my back.

Listen to the hitch in my voice—recognize sincerity—

I stumble carefully across my words,

Trying to keep our eyes interlocked.

Recognize when I’m trying to win your heart,

The words that break the silence and never fade.

Winding paths bring us together and tear us apart,

For better or worst you become a lost thought—

Barely surviving the concaves of conception.

Listen to the words you can’t bear to conceive,

Hear me broken, beaten and afraid—

Caught in the moment of my surrender,

The same old memory forever. 

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

My Heartbreak

I once fell for the most beautiful girl,

But I didn’t know how to talk to her—

My words didn’t seem to want to unfurl,

Not even when my heart began to stir.

She slipped away not knowing how I felt,

I still can’t figure out what’s wrong with me,

Caught in silence as she makes my heart melt—

I fail to believe it’s not meant to be.

      DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Within My Regret

There’s something wrong within me,

A switch that was never turned on.

My mind doesn’t function proper

And a passive nature controls me.

Afraid to fight for what I hold dear

I live my life with nothing but regret.

I spend every night wishing

That I was anywhere but here.

Life passes as the nights grow cold

And I drift farther away from home.

My lethargic mind is too tired

To find a way to break the mold.

I would rather sit here in regret

Than find my voice again.

I would rather lose all hope

Than think we’ve never met.

         DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

What Has Been Missed

I once thought that I was lost,

So I held onto what I found—

A beating heart and blood so thick

I had forgotten how to talk.

You gave the carbon copy,

Of a life filled with regret—

And I hated myself for feeling,

So I broke the path last night.

Now I’m built from solid stone,

No joy, sadness, longing or regret.

No limbs, heart, eyes or face—

Just veins that are filled with sand.

I once though I found the world,

And so I stopped searching—

Now I see what I had missed;

I see what a fool I have been.

      DannYetman
www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

You

And now that you're gone

I can't help but wonder why

It feels like I have been here before—

Sleepless nights with your name held

On the tip of my tongue is nothing new.

And now everything is changing

And you've seemed to have disappeared;

I feel like you may be changing too.

We are living in two different worlds now

And as I lay awake restless I hope

That we may meet again someday,

If even for a moment so I can again say

What I've already said before.

I'm starting to think it was all I dream,

That you might not be real

Because as quick as you came you're gone again—

Why can’t you just stay the same? 

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com 

Vegas

When we danced underneath the Paschal moon,
I asked her name.  Vegas, she said sincere.
With a convicting smile her face was strewn;
I held ten grand when she became my fear.

Seduced, I uttered against games of chance—
reluctant, she smiled; all I seen were  lips.
I'm no casino, she said,  Let us dance.
Merit was lacking, she read from a script.

She was blackjack, I lived in her embrace,
Reality mangled, she whispered fun.
Two Jacks I drew but she held king and ace.
Cards were played until, clearly, she had won.

After that day—for her—I searched the streets,
but by her hands I was left incomplete.
        DannYetman
http://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/

A Promise

A smile, a promise,
for eternal life, an endless salvation.
Too bad I'm lying,
it would have been a nice story,
For children or dreamers.
Who are they but one and the same?
Brace yourself it won't be long;
brace yourself just one more day
and perhaps the perfect moment,
will become apparent;
not elusive like any other.
Regret what's done,
and pray upon what's soon to be.
I smile, I promise
I'll make it up to you.
        DannYetman
http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/

My Final Confession

From now until you die, don't believe a word I say;
everything I tell you is a lie, and it's ridiculous.
I can't tell you anything; it kills me in every way.
To you, I want to whisper every thought that crosses my mind
but I know you don't care what goes on in my simple mind.
     
I'll pretend you care what I think; and to myself I'll lie;
you've never cared for me and you tell me that everyday.
Some part of me keeps hoping that you lie (the way that I lie),
after all, I'm fluent in pseudo-truth.  What am I saying?
You make me ramble and sound broken.  What am I saying?

I want to tell the truth but instead I spit out regret;
I hide my trails well; I make sure you never know where I am.
I've done things that don't make me proud but I won't forget them;
why would I want to forget them?  To forget is to regress.
My stories no longer fit together; I must confess.

My stories are simple memories; moments inhuman.
If it takes innocence to show who I am, then naïve I'll be.
I want you to know where I've been, see that I'm just a man;
look to me and watch me bleed,  I need you to see me broken;
I can't look at my reflection- I feel I've misspoken.

I think of what's missing; it's suffocating- I concede.
I want you to see me broken; crying in an empty room-
you'll see how human I am, I'm not a machine, I bleed.
It's ridiculous, what I think; the disillusions I live.
You deserve to see me broken; see how I really live.

I want you to know who I am; ask me and we'll reminisce.
If I'm lying, I'm sorry, but there's good in me; it exists.

          DannYetman

http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/

Look Back

Don't drive away
without taking a look back;
see the empty highway,
yellow lines painted on black.
As you drive, look behind;
with one hand on the door,
watch my teeth grind.
Look upon an overpass,
forget the thoughts that never rule;
forget the thoughts that never last.
What an inner dual,
don't drive away
without taking a look back;
see the empty highway,
see what's left to lack.
          DannYetman
http://www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/

The Summer Nights

I should have stayed on the summer nights,

I should have stayed that balmy night,

But so I called misfortune on my behalf,

I sat, and watched the memories;

I sat and watched on your behalf.

I should have stayed on the summer nights

I should have stayed that balmy night.

Overcoming was the procaine in your words.

The sun had set, the sun was lost;

With the taste of champagne your vision blurred.

I should have stayed on the summer nights

I should have stayed that balmy night

But so my intelligence was left behind.

I sat and watched the stars,

I watched the memories left behind.
                              DannYetman

http://yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com/