eyes that wont let go

eyes that wont let go
_________

I told her
(forever ago)
I wouldn't
wait very
long...

but I'm still
waiting..

holding on
to a half-truth
and the promise
of eventually
which seems
further away
each day.
_

She's the
kind of
Girl who
reminds
men of
their first
True Love..

The one
you can't
get over..
because
Her Eyes
won't let
go once
they have
consumed
you..and
spit out The
Heart like
a marrowless
bone.

(She is
The Mother
of Love
Sonnets,
Madness,
Joy, and
Suicides.)
_

The waiting
and Hoping
is Torture...

like digging
out a splinter
with rusty
tweezers..

it seems to
hurt more
the closer
it gets to
the surface..

and Hope
is probably
the WORST
thing you can
Know.

(when it's
the last illusion
to go.)
_

So I'm not
going to sit
here waiting
much longer..

(though I
told myself
that Forever
Ago.)

Life is too
short..

(I've thought
long and hard
about it.)

and it's far
too easy
to lose your
mind swimming
in memories
of your First
True Love.

(when she has
eyes that won't
let go.)

J.S.H.

who knew?

Who Knew?
_____________

Who knew a
Smile could
Murder...
and Laughter
Hurt?

Or raise to
Life Hearts
more Comfortable
Dead.

and Who
knows
The Truth
of This
Universe?

(that All is
a Dream
Within God's
Head.)
_

Who knew
The Sun was
but a Jester?..

Who tells
a Joke we
call The
Light?

Or that One's
Mortal End is
Better!

(than assuming
there is Meaning
to this Life.)
_

J.Stephen.H.

the picnic voyeur..

The Picnic Voyeur.
   ___________

They sit laughing on
a blanket sharing a
meal..smiling at one
another in a way that
makes me Love them.
(and Hate them.)

I Love them because
I want to Be Them..
and Hate them because
I am "NOT " Them.
_

Their exchange is A
Phenomenon which exists in
all walks and cultures..
an archetype:..."The Lovers."

And there is both power
and frailty contained within
that Symbol..

The Power to Love another
more than oneself,..
but A Frailty which comes
from being dependent on
another's smile to maintain
the wellness of your being.

Oh how I love them...
and hate them..

(and want to be "THEM".)

j.stephen.h.

within their golden minds

Within their Golden Minds.
_________________

I never knew
Angels had
a Darkside...

nor realized
Deception
could exist..

(within their
Golden Minds.)

Yet she showed
me My ideas
were Lies..

with a
single
Heartless
Kiss!

(which
some believe
is Paradise,
but I consider
Hell's Abyss.)
_

It was
that Kiss
which left
me cold and
Broken..

full of
Doubt
and fears
Unspoken..

wondering
if anything
could be
Real!

Or teach
my Heart
again to
feel..

something
other than
this Ocean.

(of
Uncertainty
where my
Soul was
Killed.)

j.s.h.

drowning

Drowning...
_________

I'm drowning here..
my love...
drowning in my
insecurity..
and what
Heart could
KNOW (or End)
such Floods?

(but another
Broken Soul
Like Me.)

j.stephen.h.

1,000 Cuts.

1,000 Cuts.
____________

Her Picture is
Worth 1,000
cuts..

of the Painful
Paper-Thin
Variety..

placed upon
The heart
I Shut.

(to drown
Love's
Whisper
Deep inside
of Me.)
_

The Flowers
that I picked
were Crushed..

by Clumsy
Hands which
sought to Own..

The Soul of
My Beloved..

Who Grew
Lovely
in an Ugly
World.

(where only
Thorns had
Grown.)
__

But The cuts
now Hurt much
Less I've found..

and that
Hurts me
More..

hurts like
a Strike
upon My
Brow!

Or The
Memory of
some Love
I felt Before!

(which is
A Whisper
Drowned
By Silence
Now.)
_

J.Stephen.H.

stupid geniuses

Stupid Geniuses.
_________________

I'm sure there
are a lot of
Stupid Geniuses
out there...
who use their
intelligence
for dumb and
selfish reasons..
to accelerate
Negative Causes,
or Pointless
Endeavors which
serve no means
to an end other
than the fickle
entertainment of
a Moment...
to pass time idly
by like Wanderers
in a Fruitless Land
not worth stopping
For.

Just as I'm sure
many of them
(in their cold
states of reductive
logic) are
endowed with
The Cruelest
Form of Madness..
Madness of a
Kind which is
So Self-Aware
that the concept
of Self Drives
them Insane with
A Desperation to
Escape that Awful
Prison.

Wondering and
Dreaming seem
more preferable
than to KNOW
with Certainty
Everything
that something
is, or Is Not..
For in Dreaming,
and Wondering,
Ones Imagination
is Set Free to Soar
Unique possibilities
which Certainty
Enslaves..

The Dreaming
Geniuses are
Liberators...and
the proverbial
"freemen of
that Whole Estate"
mentioned by
Older Men of
Letters who were
in their own
Fashion Slaves
To Ideals
like Everyone
Else..

Such Dreamers
can still crack
a Smile at Life's
Absurdity, and
make Others
Smile without
Knowing Why..

and when
The Smiles
Become A
Common
Affliction
shared by
Every
Slave?

(perhaps this
Land will be
Fruitful again.)

J.Stephen.H.

God-Made ground.

God-Made Ground.
_________


Things really
didn't start
making Sense
to Me..

until I
started
Seeing
The
Senselessness
In Everything..

while
touching
Hearts
which Bled
for Worlds
Unfound..

and To
this Day
Life is
Mostly
still a
Mystery!

(with the
Blood of
Devils bleeding
from a God
Made Ground.)

j.s.h

the prettiest nightmares

The Prettiest
Nightmares.
____________

We were
probably
Independently
Crazy..

Long Before
That
Timeless
Moment
when Love
First assumed
it's Insanity
to Be An
Infinite
Symbol..

Creating
Little
Monsters
Who
Dream
The
Prettiest
of
Nightmares...

(With
Life
and Death
Eternal)

and there
are no
Rulers of
This
Nowhere!

(Angelic,
or Infernal.)
_

Can You
conceive
how Tragedy
and Hope
once Kissed
like Lovers
beneath an
un-named
Moon?

Arms
locked
together
in Deaths
Embrace..

Yet
Believe
While
Everything
Ends Too
Soon..

It is Still
Reborn
with
Some
New
Face!!?

( and
Somewhere
Midnight
has a
Twin
called
NOON.)
_

Oh Nameless
Love!

Would
you Go
Crazy
without
Me in
a Sane
World
where
Love
never
Was?.

and see
All affections

as matters
of Lust..?

Or
rebel
against
The
Voices
in The
Worlds
dead
Head?!

(and Love
Me Just
Because.)
_


Oh My
Love..
We
were
Both
Probably
Crazy
long
before
That Fabled
Moment
when
Love First
considered
it's Death
to Be An
Infinite
Symbol...

(and The
Madness of
Our Love shall
Be Eternal.)

j.s.h.

It Is the Silence.

It Is the Silence.
_____________

It is The
Silence My
Love..
The Silence!!!..
which cuts
me like a Blade..

Because I
contemplate
Cupid's Violence..
(and A Shadow
fill in The Blanks.)
_

It is not Knowing,..
while Hoping.. My
Flame..
that your Love
for me is Everlasting..

as I sit
(lonely)
contemplating
My Shame!

(listening to
Hateful Devil's
Laughing.)
_

It's the Sunrise..
My Love..
The Sunrise!..
Without you Here!..

Which Keeps
Darkness Constant
in My Eyes!

(wondering if
The End is Near.)
__

It's The
Silence My
Love...
The Silence of
My Restless Heart..

An unstately
Phantom waiting
to consume my
Living Art!!!

(keeping
Our Souls
Apart.)

J.Stephen.H.

insomoniac diaries

After 37 hours I've stopped counting,..
and the idea of Sleep has become an
Obscure Dream that is (mostly) A Nightmare
in My Head.

The Clock is getting louder by the
Second. It's ticking like Gun Shots
waging War Against My Heart, to see
which of the two will Cease Fire and
Grow Silent first.

I'm beginning to come to the conclusion
that :The Voices are the Only Thing Keeping
Me Sane. (and of course I'm Crazy for
Believing this.) The only thing honest in
my Life that paints a picture of Reality as
it IS, instead of what it should be.

When I say the voices, it's only appropriate
that I should clarify further and say My Voices.
Because they are sincerely "My Voices."...
reflections of my own voice speaking to me
in a roar that sounds like an audience filled with
versions of myself,..and I play into the audience
like a mere whisper that is constantly drowned
out by the roar of the crowd.

wept by angels who cannot forgive me.

Wept By Angels Who Cannot Forgive Me.
________________________________

It wasn't
Always so
Empty Here..

The Sun
not merely
Some Man's
Memory..

and Lifes'
Poetry did
not Imitate
Dead Tears!

(shed by
Angels who
cannot Forgive
Me.)
_

The Line
was straight
and pointed
the way..

down A
Path called
Yesterday..

serving
as My
Greatest
instructor.

(while teaching
My Soul to
Learn from it's
Mistakes.)
_

The Smiles
didn't Always
seem Broken..

Nor words
of Love,
and Faith
Unspoken..!


And All
Hearts
(beating
like A
Solitary
Drum)
were not
reduced to
Senseless
Motion!

(but played
Music Heard
By Everyone.)
_

Yet Now
it's Always
Empty Here..

with the
Once Bright
Sun a Lost
Man's Memory..

And Life
is an
Ocean full of
Tears!

(wept by
Angels who
Cannot Forgive
Me.)

J.Stephen.H

a prolonged state of madness.

A Prolonged State of Madness
___________________

I've come to the conclusion
that when one is affected by
lust, they are merely experiencing
what equates to Temporary Insanity,...
while Those Infected With
Love, are suffering A Prolonged
State of Madness.

T'is a Unique Madness to be
sure,..but a Madness none the
less. The kind that gets into your
head and festers a while..offering
moments of joy ultimately followed
by eternities of Doubt, and Fear
of Abandonment.

Such Madness can be best described
with the Analogy of a Man who is
sent off into the Desert starving, and
given nothing more than Water with
which to sustain his Hunger.
While he might momentarily feel a
sense of fullness, in the end he remains
starving and Dies Ignorant of his
Mortal Plight.
_

I've tried (time and again) to shed
myself of this Madness, but to no
avail!..For I am the Worst of Lovers.
I am the Lover addicted to his starvation,
who feels most content in the Desert..
wandering aimlessly with a belly full
of Water,...Mind Infected.
(Unaware of my Souls Abandonment.)

J.Stephen.H.

The "Thing-In-Self."

The "Thing-in-Self."
_______________

Be who's
Self?..
My Self,..
Your Self,...
or Any Self?
_

Perhaps we
could just put
names in a hat
and blindly
pick One..?
__

then each will
become the
label they have
drawn..
_

shedding any
semblance of
individuality
till Nothing
remains but a
world of
Categoricals
which poorly
masks The
"Thing in Self."
__

J.S.H.

13 O'clock Blues.

13 o'clock blues. ____________ Time for one last memory, before that piece of lead hits, and the clock strikes thirteen. Pull up a sheet, and sleep awhile. (then drown in the wails of loved ones as they weep.) Did you honestly think trading one hell for another would solve anything? God was never really a doctor, you know. (he just plays one on t.v.) Sorrow to the point of anger would be an understatement,.. but we were always two masters of understating life's worst predicaments weren't we? It's no wonder I hide these feelings from the world. (and pretend to exist in a state of apathy.) but... You have opened the door to a season of change that still seems fresh and painfully new. A Season too Dead with nothing but old memories!..A Season lost, and cold without you. (and at times I forget whether it's you or my Shadow I'm even talking to.) _ I won't waste time with mystical cliches, or say something absurd like: " see you on the otherside" or "I hope you're in a better place." We knew the truth then, and we know it now;... the truth that life is merely a series of graves, from which the dead can never dig themselves out! Some just put on Fresh Faces, and look through (New), Old Eyes into an abyss which spans for All Eternity. (endlessly waiting for the clock to strike thirteen.) J.Stephen.H. _______________ I wrote this in thirteen minutes.. then wept for several hours.. wishing in my heart of dead hearts that it isn't essentially true.. but..that's the irony of life isn't it?I Deciding (as camus said) whether To kill ourselves or have a cup Of coffee and put on our comedic Masks to face another tragic day.