Web of Loneliness Poems

Poems of the Lonely

Tag Archives: silent

Poems by Keith Atkissoon

2 Comments Posted by on January 16, 2013

Another windy day

 

What’s the ocean for but to stare out over

Huddled and cold, my hair blows and twists

Gulls pour up the cliffs, keeping silent today

Some hover and watch me from a distance

Some dive and head out over the crests of waves

Skimming the cold current

They steal my wind

The wind that draws me closer to the edge

Do they see my eyes blurred by tears?

 

The wind blows hard against my face

Reddening my cheeks, I shiver in the cold

Even the breaking waves have gone quiet

A mournful uneasiness over the sand

Is no one laughing today?

I hear nothing but another windy day

 

The whitecaps strum a silent song offshore

Sailboats glide slowly miles away

And while clouds gather, shadows grow long

Then a grey-deadened sea follows the sun

As it continues to vanish past the horizon

Bringing a gull-empty sky and whispering tones of sirens

Who cried the sea?

Was it me?

Not only me, but many more, the many who

Gaze out over the water every day, wishing, hoping, and praying

For the future to come, or for the past to return

To an indifferent sea, it’s just another windy day.

 

——————————————————————————————-

 

Seeing my friend

 

Not me ,by me

Beside the sweet mist

Me, myself, my thoughts can’t resist

The vision plays out some every day

Is there anybody there? Listen I say

I’m waiting for a friend, a still empty chair

Can see them so clearly, me sitting there

Our voices, the song, and dripping good times

A neverland appears when I open my eyes

Things that aren’t real, rarely surprise

 

I need to go back to what I said before

My beautiful friend never comes through the door

To sit by me, and pay me some mind

Or give me a call, to just take the time

I see what’s there and it’s none of your mind

My friend’s soft words, they remind

Of lives that we lived and loves long ago

Tell each other stories of childhoods ago

 

I am my best friend, the only one I know

The one in the chair?

Their names’ alone

This so special bond, between twilight and dusk

As a stilted connection, and is so and such.

My friend just blurred, this thought crossed my mind

The time we next meet, I will find

The chair still empty, that’s not what I see

I see a friend

But I’m talking to me.

 

Loneliness Experience, Searching , , , , , , , ,

Daytime in my Darkness

7 Comments Posted by on February 13, 2011

Its daytime in my darkness
Always surrounding me
A crowd is near
But yet i am lonely

Its only daytime here in my darkness
With only loneliness as company
I listen to the silence
Since no one can hear me

But still its daytime in my darkness
With a sun of black coal
My tears fall in a corner
And my silent cries echo

i am lonely. i was lonely when i wrote it. i still am. i am just plain lonely. i feel i have no true friends and i feel that no one likes me at all. i am lonely. there. enough said i hope.

Loneliness Experience , , , ,

The Sound

Leave a comment Posted by on February 13, 2011

A BANG OR A WHIMPER: it matters not.
The sound is gone.
No echoes of voices in vacant lots:
The silent dawn.
Rain on a pond and the cry of a dove,
Like melodies poorly drawn.
‘Though music’s no longer the stuff of love,
The insipid ensemble plays on.
The silence of lyrical voices,
Lost in a life lived too long.
The vacancy of our choices,
Everything’s played out wrong.
The pain of a life masqueraded,
In a world where we sought to belong.
We find that our fortunes have faded,
Our lives have been sold for a song.
The sound is gone.

Discarded, Loneliness Experience , , , , , , ,

What Happened?

1 Comment Posted by on February 12, 2011

Always out there, always popular
Always had friends, always with a partner.
One marriage but what was love?
Another marriage and I had it for real
Then she went and found it with another.

My soul mate next but I couldn’t escape
The ravages of my childhood…Nor she
as we loved and lost and fell apart
time and time again.
For she was the one.
Now she’s gone too, and happy like all the rest.
After me they always do best.

Meeting new people, going out now.
Singles scene, not for me, but what else?
The process helps but can’t fill the hole within.
They care but I feel nothing.
What should I feel?
How do you feel?
Who to talk to?
Brother, Mother. They stuffed my head.
Father wonderful, but now he’s dead.

Now it’s just me and my new shadows.
Lurking, silent, unrelenting, cold and draining.
They follow me everywhere, They’re always there
I can no longer hide. When will they go?
But I have my kids, although they’ll never know.
So far so good, they haven’t seen through my faces
My smile manufactured when I take them places.

I’ve done my dash, I had my chances
Just never meant to be, for me.
I see now that the kind of happiness I’ve always dream of
was only meant for others.
And so many others
What happened to me?

Goodbye D
Goodbye J
Goodbye K
I envy your happiness.

 

Break-Up/Long Distance Relationship, Escape/Suicidal Thoughts , , , , , , , , , ,

Untitled

Leave a comment Posted by on January 9, 2011

I’m looking at myself in the mirror.

Asking myself after all the hard works I have done, what does this stranger wants from me?!

I don’t know am I staring at him or he is staring at me?

I don’t want to believe what I see.

I close my eyes for a secant.

I’m asking myself if there is anyway I can take this mask off.

I start shaking my hand.

My hand tells me everything I had to know.

They point me in the mirror and telling me that’s you in the mirror not anyone else.

After all these days, I have been walking in the stories with loneliness in every secant.

I can tell from my face that there is nothing left in me.

Mirror is trying to tell me I am the one who wanted to catch the sun with my hands.

But now the darkness of nights is my place and I am dying silently in it.

I broke the mirror so it won’t talk about my past and dreams again.

But mirror breaks into thousand pieces, but there is still my picture in every broken piece.

Pictures are telling me with funny faces, cut the hope from the sky.

There is no difference in your days; they all smell the same old desire.

Hiding, Searching, Who am I? , , , , , , , ,

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