Posts tagged “Loneliness

1-900-Anxiety

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1-900-Anxiety

I get my therapy over the phone—
She pushes happy pills between cam shows.
“Take two of these
and call me in the morning…  Darlin’.”
I receive the anti-depressants
through the mail in a plain brown wrapper.
The sensation of silk
feels good against my naked skin,
but what I really needed—was a Valium.

Charles Coakley Simpson


Ghazal

tumblr_nh17w7v8TY1rmq0zwo1_1280Ghazal

Longing is the agony of the nearness of the distant. —  Martin Heidegger

The wind caresses me in the winter of the night with the nearness of the distant,
while memory wraps me, warmly, like a blanket of wool, with  the nearness of the distant.

Your eyes: grey stars , a pallor in the darkness that leads me through the absence,
a chiaroscuro, an unfolding of shadows, where I meet you in the nearness of the distant.

There, standing with the crows, your hair windswept with the color of the wheat,
I walk alongside you through the forest of the trees of moss in the nearness of the distant.

A great, golden spire ruses up out of the fog, and a snow lays lazily on rooftops.
A sea embraces a sleepy fishing village as my windmills turn in the nearness of the distant.

The wind caresses me in the winter of the night, and yet I hear the singing of bees.
I am the sparrow caged by the snow laden limbs of its tree, but  I will meet you—always,
In the nearness of the distant.

Charles Coakley Simpson


The Clown

tumblr_mq6sdzBtQW1sy4tc3o1_500The Clown

And so they laughed at your expense—
Giggled when you tripped,
chuckled as you fell,
and applauded while you wept.

Still—there is nothing softer than your heart
except for your soul sad with tears.

And I shall find you when you are lost,
love you when you are lonely,
and lift your heart up in spirit so you know—

You will always have the key—

To mine.

Charles Coakley Simpson


The Memory

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The Memory

I had thought to capture—the moment,
however fragile or fleeting,
and feel it move between the palms of my hands.
Soft and silent, like a moth
with wings fluttering–yet frightened
as it searches for light in the darkness of my skin

Charles Coakley Simpson


Feathers

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Feathers

When I hear    the sound
of sadness.     And the light     is broken
by the silence.    Of the trees.
I know    all the birds      have flown     Away.
Their wings like words     whispering
Your     name

Charles Coakley Simpson


After the Rain

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After the Rain

When once tears did fall–
that we were embraced by the joy of intimacy,
and yet the deluge which befalls us now
is not for the want we have of holding each other still,
but that we never held each other
Enough

Charles Coakley Simpson


Rafters

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Rafters

What was the elevation of my heart,
except that it rode on the wings of your words.
And yet there was no “good” in goodbye that we said good night
when all I ever needed to hear you say was–
“I love you.”

Charles Coakley Simpson