Web of Loneliness Poems

Poems of the Lonely

Tag Archives: afraid


In mysterious union, once found, once lost,

We crossed into our illusion’s peace.

Where the new dawn fades and finds us not together.

Under the sightless stars with nothing left to wish upon.

In lunar lament, the moon is now a groping beacon,

To slumber and illuminate the space between us.


While the axe finds first the tallest tree,

While the sound of the flute returns to the bamboo,

We stroll through our illusion’s peace.

Past the mouth, the gate of our misfortune.

The ears for our loving words, the gaze of salt pillars,

Where for the first time, there is nothing again.


While we hold and harbor the space between us,

And separate the mirror from its reflection,

From our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


And you, so afraid of love, with wishes and outcomes

As dried leaves in a tottering breeze.

From our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


And you, keeper of the true smile, tormentor and savior,

Who would just as soon roll a stone

In front of our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


Come then and see the wounds,

Rest your fingers inside them and contemplate

Partners and partners and days of old.

Surely you need not change

In our illusion’s peace.


Let us stroll then, you and I,

Lost and found in the fading dawn.

Under the wishless stars and groping moon.

Past the fallen tree and the silent bamboo.

Past the pillars of salt.


Between the space and the mirror.

Between the leaves and the breeze.

With the smile and the stone.

With the old and the uncommitted faces

For whom you refuse to change.


Let us gaze then, you and I,

At the wounds and the wounds of love

With resting fingers, and let this time,

The first time, not be nothing again.

For here in our illusion’s peace, I bid thee come.


My Silent Death

It’s moving, but It’s not me
I’m afraid, but I can’t see
They’re here, I know they watch
I hear the noises, no one listens, no one talks
I feel them taking over, it hurts to breath
but I can’t tell, no one believes
but it all will end with silence, it won’t be my heart
it’s my silent death
forever apart.
L.C. 2007

My Home

As black as black in the night
As dark as a blinded sight
More ravaged than a lady of the night
Some see it as a terrible fright
However, I call it home
To oppressed to be seen
By thoughts of what could have been
Wondering why again and again
Felling like this it must be a sin
However, I call it home
Hiding behind fake smiles and lies
Afraid to release these ties
Ties that bind me to these lies
Never ending circle of my fate, makes me cry
However I call it home
My home is in a place most won’t go
Many just don’t want to know
About all the pain and sorrow
Feeling alone, but can never show
However it IS my home


I Wish That I Could Hate You

It now has been so far away
Yet it seems like only yesterday

You turned and walked away
Like I was nothing

There never was a place for me
In your world of make-believe

A little bit of something
Would have been better than your nothing

And while yes, it is so true
My heart still aches for you
I wish, that I could hate you

This little girl, just a dreamer
A lost and lonely gypsy,
Now so afraid you were just another schemer
Do you really even miss me?

My soul, I bore open to trust in you
Yes, my heart still aches for you
I wish that I could hate you

And right or wrong, I carry on
As I still want for you
Even as in your world
Is where I no longer belong

My heart still aches
To see your smile
To feel your touch
To stay awhile

And pretend again for a moment
That you really did care
Cause baby, I miss you that much

I wish that I could hate you, but I don’t
I could have loved you, but you would not let me
So I won’t

And now it is that I have found
As my heart still aches for you
I can never really, truly, hate you



With our hearts wrapped in Saran-
Are we here to hear hollow words
or sincere verbs taking flight to fan the silence?
damn the silence!
as it smothers the violence of a ghost locked and chained
in solitude engaged in caged enraged soliloquy
the words reaching out like desperate hands
gnarled and grasping for even the lightest featherlike touch
well deep within digital prisons
snarling and gasping across chasms from our telephones
too afraid of voices making us three dimensional
intentional connection scares us crawling back into the void
avoidance fits us so well
well worn torn and wholly alone
©M E M/ 2001/ Space Faktory Musick/
 Random Axe of Blindness/QueerNotions/
 Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author