Underneath

this one came out at around 2am, right around the time I was aching to go to sleep, but can't. As usual, stricken with the disease of thinking too much. I have to learn to mellow down and stop thinking altogether. It's not very healthy, this sickness.

underneath

i can smell the fragrance
of her swept adorned hair

from a thousand miles i dance
to the laughter of despair

i can sense the slightest touch
from her thread bare skin

despite absence that attach
and trails of spaces in spin

i can feel nothing above my mind
go breath underneath, and find

rgalang
10/23/2006

More Requiems

Some follow ups. These ones are sortof longer. Sortof.

Heart Song

my heart sings of joy and gladness
filling the spaces between confessions

my heart sings of brevity and happiness
barely heard amid the telling recession

my heart sings through the smoke
of ridiculous dreams and cracked fears

and between the defeaning ascension stoked
lies tales of a burdened heart in tears

rgalang
10/22/2006

Someone, Somewhere

underneath the smoke and the sky
somewhere along a lonely road

between the curbs not yet dry
someone felt that it will forbode

failure amid the mob of successes
sadness amongst the ruins of happiness

somewhere among towers of wickedness
someone surrenders to the madness

rgalang
10/22/2006

Requiem For A Dream

I did a brain dump, and came out with these. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what they are written for. Depression is at an all-time high. It seems like an "IN" thing to do anyway, so why not go with the crowd.

Surprise, Surprise

read it in one magazine
you can tell if it is

between glossy paper sheen'
and messages by the police

she'll tell you that it is
you tear away at the pages

you pray for her to be his
like the dead listen to sages

rgalang
10/22/2006

I Am Not Here

sure you can take it all back
roll over a page if it fits

difference is there is no black
just whites and that nobody beats

play soft seventies in my ear
and follow the snare of shuffled feet

be different had i not been here?
now cry over the success of defeat

rgalang
10/22/2006

empty spaces

rustic walls talk in the quiet spaces
between wake and sleep of the heart

they tell of sorrow to floors of mazes
and of solitude found in distance apart

the light splashes over the awning
begging the emptiness of this crowning

rgalang
10/22/2006