Berginyon Lagoona, My life.

[Berginyon]

I know I posted all about me in Lost and Forgotten thread in Tell us about Yourslelf... But... I was asked to share something very close to me... Something I value at number 4 of things more precious that life itself for me... Simply because they helped many a person in my life, all because they read it.

It was easy for me to write poetry because I spent my whole life hiding from my feelings... And... I found a way to express myself... And... it works. I am going to leave this thread open for three days, When that time has passes I will post the Version One (Actually... version 11... but it is one because the layout has not changed) of my poetry book... 51-52 poems, each of which are Non-Fiction (the only way I wirte.) and all meaning something special to me.

THe reason why I do not post it now is two reasons... to allow people and myself time to consider if it is a good idea to post tihngs to dear to my hear... And to gather replies and ancouragement to post them.

And second... to post it in a different post so the opening topic is not sooooooo very large... That should do it up just fine.

Thanks for bearing with me while I think this over. Sunday, the twenty fifth, I will post them. Have a fun wait until then...

Okies... It is here... This http://board.jokaroo.com/showthread....187#post239187 should get you to the top of my writing... I had to post 3 times just to get it all in there... Stoopid 20000 character limit. Oh well... Have fun.

--Bergy.

[essex boy]

[wife]

I don't know you Berginyon but I have to say that this place is all about sharing. Sometimes it's a good thing to put everything on the table. If your way of expressing yourself is through poetry then all the better. I look forward to reading your poetry and getting to know you better but please don't do this if it makes you at all uncomfortable. I think I can speak for most of the Roo when I say we are here to listen and to learn from you what you are willing to share with us... Put me on the list of those encouraging you to post.

[Berginyon]

OKies, today is the day. In roughly twelve hours... (Of whenever I wake up) I will post the first 50-60 poems of my poetry book... And... If I ever get it published I will let yall know where yall can buy it from.

Thanks for bearing with me... Seeing that I only got two replies... I... Think i will post them after all... Soo... 12 or so more hours of wait... Then... Post time

--Bergy.

[Keshet]

U have 3 replies now, and Im waiting to read more

[Berginyon]

Bare with me, Because this is going to be the longest post I have ever done... (I just hope they (Jokaroo) Lets me put it all in here...

Waiting Book
By

James Hendra


I story of forgotten love, and a life without.
A time, when no one really cared who they were.
A time, when no one really wanted anything,
And a time, when love is not what it meant to be.


***Waiting book
Beware to thee who enter here
For all contained herein
Are but pieces of a larger picture
Who's thoughts are my own
Who's words are mine.
And not those of others.
Published here not of the company
But of me, my opinions are mine.
To let you read would be a privilege
Do not waste it for it is limited.
I herby warn you now that all contained here
Is mildly sorrowful and disturbing.
Please read with care, please read with heart,
For all that is here is poetry of heart.
I care not how, I care not where
But if you read please show more care
Than those of whom I wrote these for,
Not for money, nor for prestige.
Not for friends, or to join a league
I wrote these for love, no more than that,
Of love, of heart, of wit, and of pen.

Emptiness - Page One.

There was a peculiar strangeness and emptiness in the ordinary classroom.
A strange lacking of routine that is only days old
I watched, I waited, nothing arose. Nothing of the old string, the pattern was lost.
She was not here. I missed that simple fact.
The whole classroom seemed to shake in a kind of weary dreading and absence.
Where was she?
Not I, said I, when asked if I knew.
The room, even with its artificial illumination was lacking,
Missing light like the sun leaving the moon to do the job.
Sunshine left as well as she. In that room was naught but cold.
Empty loneliness and cold. She is gone. The world itself is shaking in absence.
Cold, empty, lonely, dark, dread was all there was left. Will I ever see her again?
The Earth shook and was trembling in rejoice but died away as through the door it was only another. Waiting I was.
Nothing to show for it.
Need only the warmth of her face, the joy of her smile, and fullness of her laugh, to find the string once more.
Waiting.
She did not come.
Cold enveloped me.
All was dead and destroyed.

Emptiness - Page Two.

One empty seat. One lost person.
One seat whom there is not soul to rest in a class.
One simple spot where I expect her to be.
One routine where I am not at a loss.
My daily pattern and Rhythm is unexpectedly interrupted.
I died.
I saw myself beside myself.
I was alone.
Cold.
And there It was. The empty seat, equally as repelling as it is attracting,
knowing who once sat there.
Patterns, rhythms, daily routines, empty.
I sat. It was warm.


Emptiness - Page Three.

A continuing absence, a lost beat of a drum.
A lost beat like a soloist amongst the drum line.
A soft dulling beat of a large drum.
Mind numbingly soft and dull. Off in the distance.
Closer it was after what seemed like a millennia.
Inching its was across what seemed like millions of miles.
Dull beat droning. Signaling her return.
So far it was. Hearts beating, off past the death.
Never to arrive it seemed. My heart added to the beat.
Beating in rhythm. Dead beat. Sullen and droning.
Closer it was, leaping now. Each beat getting louder responding to my own beat.
Leaping closer. Moving faster in distance and pace.
The beat of a drum that is more urgently played and more energetic.
My own drum struggling to keep pace.
All the more my drum beat faster to keep pace.
Dancing to the requiem of her absence.
Guiding, hoping, wishing her return with every beat.
Her own beat, still not heard, was different from all.
Dull droning, of the large drum, gone. Replaced by a large beat.
Sudden silence.
My own drum held in quiet reserve
And there was a beat, a familiar beat.
The symphony sounded as her return has come.
Not seen but felt and heard. All was alive again and there,
She was.

Emptiness Final. Tribute to lost love never gained.

Our hearts beat in tandem, in step, in beat, in Rhythm.
Our drums, synchronized, in follow, in lead, in order.
Singing the drums were,
To each other, no matter the distance.
Beat, call. Beat, return. Always a response.
The world was an orchestra, we were the drum.
We spoke the language of music.
And, Just as suddenly, a cease. Half the beat was missing.
Call, return. Call, return, Call, Nothing.
A game?
Call, nothing.
An eternity passed as a second.
Call, nothing.
Leaping far and wide, Pause, Call, Nothing.
Half of me was missing.
Half the world was missing.
Half my soul was missing.
Color faded. Blackness ensued. Cold returned.
Life stopped. Orchestra stopped.
World stopped.
I was lost.


***My eyes

My eyes, my ever gazing windows at what
I cannot be but what I wish there can come to pass.
My eyes the power that allows me to interpret this world...
The power that it has to captivate the attention of someone who I love and loves me back.
My eyes, the windows to the very thing I am...
The one thing that makes me, me.
The thing that even I do not even glance at.
My powerless struggle to control this powerful thing...
Helpless I am...
Never to return from this recluse of unworthiness...
I gaze into the window of my love and as I look I see what could be...
The power that can be real. The power that is made of dreams.
And as I look I realize that I have that power.
Shrouded it is in the mystery of my past
And clouded in what once was.
Never to pass again



***1057: |>4|27 Z3|20

I loved, Love was not returned.
I loved, I was ignored.
I yearned for return only to yearn hopelessly.
I rationalized, nothing came of it.
Love is not rational, Something to be reasoned with!
Love is ignored
I am ignored.
To request lost love would invite disaster.
Why ask if it would only end in ruin?
What point is there? NONE I tell you!
If love is wasted, heart is broken.
If love is ignored, heart is shattered.
If love is mine, it is not returned.
To love hopelessly is to be me.
To have no return is life less.
Does this mean I need love?
NO! I NEED NO LOVE!!!
I NEED NO LIFE WHERE
I CANNOT LOVE AND HAVE
A RETURN. LIFE IS NOT
FOR ME! NO life is for me.




***1057: 1|F3

My life is a shamble
To them it is a jungle
All the rest ignore me
To me it is adorning
I live alone of heart
Forgotten for love
As though I am a dart
Amiss the world a dove.
My love ignores me
While I stare adoring
On the outside
Wishing for an out chance
Hope is lost from the world and left me wishing.
To see her face forever encased in my memory for swooning
To have and to hold on my own mystery dreamland
While I am lost amidst my exile of a drear wasteland
To love, for me, is impossible, Love is gone.
To die, for life, is lost forever. Love is gone.

***Daily suffering.

To watch a collogue suffer day by day
Is to wonder what it is that lead up to this.
I wish to help, help all I can. But hey,
Nothing I do breaks this awful spell.
I toil to make things right
For those who surround me
To toil so endlessly is this fight
But I cannot even repel.
I try, so hard, I do, for right
I try to make it okay for them
Only to face toil, to make it tight.
What good are my efforts? Wasted.
I’ll help, if I can. To do anything
To ease the pain of the daily struggle.
For a shoulder to cry on for everything
For a chance to make my efforts not Chastened.
I help if I can, I help if they will,
Allow me, into their lives. To help,
Patience, not granted, chances not given.
I would help, Cast away, cast aside.
I cannot, for I cannot get close.

***Dysrupted rhythms.

The upset rhythms do not only affect me.
All around people are most depressing.
I can only help to think they are all regressing.
Those who have higher contact with my life
Seem to be affected the most by this loss of beat.
My friends, family, and enemies show.
Loss of pace, loss of Phase, loss of emotion.
People seem to be gloriously reminiscing the past
Trying to forget or ignore the future
And what has happened to them.
I see these people and all seems to get worse.
To help, I wish. Nothing I can do to help.
It is painful to me as a hot dagger thrusting
Through my heart, searing life away, bringing
Unwelcome death, just to see the world suffer as it does.
This pain, as though a thousand if it was one
White-hot needles drive deep into my very soul
Killing off what makes me beat, to see people suffer so.
I cannot help them, For those very needles are theirs.


***Lights simplicity.

A light whose simple illumination lights rooms
More lofty then any sunshine on midsummer
A face where light doth come, shrouded in
The mystery of ones past.
Once used to light, the sun seems
As the moon's darkness half full.
To have such darkness if a world
At night is as cold as a cavern 3 miles deep.
To be left with the stars is the face
Of light, gone hence and forthwith.
Never any to compare to such light,
As it leaves the beauty of the night sky wanting.
No stars, moon, constellations,
Have a glimmer to compare.
No other light on the face of human kind to compare.
No light shines as brightly.
All other lights, bright as they once were,
Are candles to the bonfire.
The fire of my heart is not even a candle,
Almost burnt out and blown by a western wind
To long for such light is to be left in darkness.

***Continued thoughts on Lights Simplicity.

Left with the moon, there is darkness.
The sun, Dark as the moon once was,
Is thwarted now by the bright illumination
Of the face so displays the beauty of the world.
The world, Lightened by the presence of the face.
So bright, it is as though the sun moves 20 million
Leaps closer. Closer still is the warmth of her face.
So bright it is blindingly so.
So powerful it would make the strong cry.
For a chance of the sight would pay lives easily.
All of life is darkened in comparison.
Light of her is divine and sought after.
Favor is invaluable.
Life grows in her presence.
Her light, so divine, is given to only few.
Favor fewer still.
To have, not to, makes or breaks life.
I would search of other light
The sun, as the moon in brightness compare.
I would look there, but alas,
I would have the sun, for I would die.

***Frozen heart

My heart rose and sank, anchored to my feet
And squeezed out my toes in minute fractions.
Small heart shaped fragments floated around.
Frozen, shattered.
Fell to the ground and lay there like so much wasted rice.
Wasted, cast aside, unused and unwanted.
Looking down there was a gap the size of a chasm
Where my heart used to be. I could almost
See the black dagger sticking into the chasm, the
Black icicle dagger plunging into the emptiness
Where there was naught but it.
Pain. Death.
And there was the wielder of this black, heart-shattering weapon.
Standing there like so much innocence.
Guilt. But none guilt, caring not for this shattered heart.
The ground, closer now, was inviting and green, lush.
Covered with the fragments of a once warm and red,
Heart now frozen and black.
The wielder turned, left me to collapse.
The world, even the grass, had turned black, Unworldly.
Nothing was left. Only the dagger.


***Human darkness

I confide in the darkness of the Human Soul.
Darkest place there is, for it is shut from light.
Only its own illumination, meager, to see light.
To understand this darkness, one sees the very
Weakness of humankind. I would know this.
To help another you must understand what it
Takes to be there, the soul can take a lot of damage
But some things the soul will not take.
To help another you must be willing to do anything
To attempt to help someone who is unwilling
Is to push a rope uphill with a flood at your back
You must be strong, confident in your confide.
Then, Even if the one is unwilling, perchance
You may shed some light on this Darkness.
To help them Dig out.
To rush ahead of the flood and drag the rope.
To have lives once more.
Ro bring them out of the darkness and into light.
However, each time, it is a step closer to the dark
For oneself. Only to dog oneself out again.
Leave me in the dark, for I will have them in light.


*** Loves first passion (marked by cowardice)

(Dedication:
For the last 5 months I have come to a revelation
Of mind, of spirit, and of love.
There is one I love. I do, it is in there. But for my cowardice
The only expression I have is words, so in these words
I will speak the tongues of love as fluently as poetry.)

I have loved you since the first day I saw you.
The moment of awakening was not first sight, but second.
At first it was as though an angel passed by.
At first I wouldn't accept what was told by my eyes.
The second look held more truth than that of an angel.
I love, but cast aside was my love as my own cowardice betrays.
I lost you that day, only to write about you, behind
My wall of cowardice I have built myself of pen.
I hide behind my words like a pigeon on a statue.
My perch, in front of my pen, ink doing the walking.
Into possibilities and truths we do not yet understand.
My own self has betrayed me for I do love, but I do not.
Expression in the missing factor, as words to not sum action.
And here I go again, hiding behind my words.
I would voice my love, express as though as blatant as a club.
But my wit is a double-edged sword.
As front swing I would ask if love is there.
As back swing there is precaution of rejection.
So in words that do not even express my love.
I love what I can, I love what I do.
I would spend, the rest of my life with you.


***Saving graces

There is but one saving grace, that is to remain where you are and tough it out.
Once there is nothing left to tough it out over you must then rely on your brethren.
The people who stuck with you through the pain, through the sorrow,
When these people you have come to trust are with you even after the shadow has passed,
You can be certain that when this is all over, they are the ones no love can break,
No bonds that can ever be cut, Stick with those who are through this pain together,
Stick with those who have heard your cries and have been there.
When the evil has passed only your true friends remain,
The ones who love you as well,
The ones who stuck with the pain and now live through it, your friends.

***To die and let love

To love and let live, to die and let love,
I would do, for eternity, what your heart bids.
I see now I cannot love you as you see fit.
I see not that as though truth hits with brick,
That if I were to love and let known, I would die.
To let you love if you saw as fit.
To let you love not me I would do happily.
To rest upon my sole hope that as long as my love is,
Known not by my love, I continue to love unhindered.
This passion without words breaks my heart, but
Mends what pieces there are left without love.
My love for you, Unrequested, and unanswered,
Has been left unchecked for too long.
Now I have need of friendship beyond words of my hand
I cannot have my needs fulfilled. My word is all I have.
Your words, of pen, of voice, of mind are unopen to me.
I would have the pieces of my love, patched together
By words of my hand, handed to you with all I am.
All I have to give, my love, are words, but I would still
Be unable to answer my own call to your heart.

(Oh wait... There is more...)

[Berginyon]

***Deafening silence to wait for no answer

Now that you know, third most dread of possibilities.
Non-answer, Your heard is silent while your mind speaks.
'Twas not your mind I sought, but your heart.
And such a heart as one that is silent is one of fear.
Fear of your own answer, Noncommittal, for one such as me.
All I ask is one thing, Give me answer.
Be it death or love. I would die for one who
Has my heart and my pen so entrapped by the hooks of love.
My heart is tangled in its own entrapments,
Entwined with its own image of your heart.
To love, without answer, is torture of the highest order.
I would but love, but for your refusal to answer.
My answer, I still must hear, for 'tis death.
Death of mine own love for without answer.
I cannot love, I will not. 'Tis forbidden, Unrequited.
The key to your heart you hold, the word of love,
The key, Held close, held closed. Unopen.
Silence. Deafening silence as though cannons
Left me standing, almost clutching my ears.
Silence, as though the sky came crashing down.
No answer. Silence.


*** I would wait for your silence

I would wait for your answer, silenced as you are.
For even though your voice, loud as it is, at a whisper
Would shake the earth in tremors so defiantly
That even though I can hear, I would not.
Deaf I am from the loudness of this silence
You left me in waiting for your heart.
Waiting for requite, waiting for return.
In vein it has been, and shall be.
For even if you do utter my answer,
I would not hear it, if the wait is too long.
Ah, My love, I have waited, for as long as I have
Known you, I have waited.
An answer is not a requisite for love.
Simply only to leave love undiminished, Unhindered.
Your love I long for. I love your heart for what it is.
What it has been, and what it shall be.
Your heart soars will the will to fly.
I would watch this will, and share from afar.
To see you from afar, behind this unanswered silence.
I love you, your ways, and your heart.
And I still wait for them.

***True freedom from conformity

I am out of your caliber, your class.
You are too good for me. I cannot enter your level.
My love for you, much to discontent, is shunned.
My love, passionate though words, addicted to you.
You and only you, calmer of turbulent tides, appease.
But aimed too high. Towards the stars with my range,
Marked by status and cowardice, is only towards the ground.
You will not admit me to your heart, you cannot.
For if you did, status forfeit, rank reduced, traitor.
Traitorous, treacherous is the rapids of this world.
Shield from them, or be a part of them.
Individuality, what we all have within ourselves,
We do not. It is an illusion created by those with no wit.
Those who follow like zombies are "mainstream".
Break apart, forget their opinions, Join me,
Outside, apart from the norm. Free from the tyranny
Freedom, individuality, I see that in you, mainstream as you are.
The power to break free, the courage, but no reason.
Break their norm, Be free of their power struggle.
Perhaps then you will love me, Foolish hope.
Perhaps then you will see, Foolish wish, Your choice.

***Pain seems to be my only friend

Pain seems to be my only friend.
Loyal as a guard dog, faithful as a puppy.
Wherever I go, pain seems to follow.
Never leaves me, no matter where I go.
I live through each day with pain, unbearable,
dull beating behind my eyes, pent up.
Soft resonation, ever prevalent, never let up.
Droning, drilling, white hot, ice cold, pain.
Itchy, baking, chafing, mind wreaking, pain.
Intolerable heat of the dreading past,
frozen winter of futures yet to come.
My pain, loyal as it is, brings forth
The Pain of my past and my present,
forbears of what will come. Death or worse.
Pain without love, life with only pain, all love,
untrue, unwound, lies revealed, pain unveiled.
Unmasked and unaltered, Uncared fore and unchecked,
this pain pounds as my body an anvil and it,
Massively contrived as the world a hammer.
This unrelenting torment, un-passing thing, is
beyond doubt, my only friend.

***Preparations.

Getting the sleep before the storm,
The rest needed to get oneself ready for the war to come,
The hail of blood and the wake of destruction.
Allowing myself to immerse in the possibilities of the universe
While I contemplate the aspects of life.
Letting my mind wander while it still has power to roam.
Ah, this is the most quiet part of any persons life,
Where they no longer care about anything they simply
Survive on instinct while the mind does nothing but think to itself.
Nothing amiss but what wonders aimless in the mind.
We sleep in need, we sleep in jest, we sleep to pass the time,
And to make the pain easier to handle.
I sleep to meet myself in the realms that I can be
What I am and nothing will ever stop me.
My love is there as I always will expect in life and
Love I will be there waiting and wondering.
Searching for unknowns and learning what one can teach themselves.
To myself I muse about the future and reminisce
About the past and wonder the present.
Allow me this little bit to myself and I will
Fight the better and I will be better in all life.


***Empty heart

An empty heart where life doth lay
To have a dreadfully dark day
Is seeing an empty heart of soul.
And knowing not where 'tis the goal.
I miss this heart, full it once was
Not empty and missing, it draws
Attention, but none of mine.
Only I of concern, only I of life.
Deadened of those drunk of wine
Playing of harps, chimes, or the fife.
Now no longer playing was this band
And outstretched was the hand
Boney and cold, Lonely and uninviting.
Grasping at the soul, love unrequiting.
To its destination, I must go, unless
The heart can be filled and alas
'tis not, Following the hand
off to his homeland
Land of the Dead, where men tell lies.
And where life is but Lost in empty ties.
With the dead I go.

***Powerless prize, only unworthy stance.

I am simply unworthy, to stand in the presence of such beauty.
The grace, the excellence, the whole worldly outlook.
I am unworthy, to even breath the name of the one so dear.
To have and to hold, Simple dreams never to come true.
To gaze, I am unworthy. To experience such wit and intellect.
I am unworthy. To allow someone more worthy of a prize, No
Not a prize, An angel. Who's Beauty is surpassed by no star.
No earthly delight has an effect of even coming close to this.
I am unworthy. To wish for love I am unworthy.
Ah, to speak. To speak the name would grace this Earth.
To breath that name even under my own voice would
Lighten the air. The effect is compounded, yet I am unworthy.
Never will the worthiness approach me.
The simple complexion, the life I lead, my whole being, I am unworthy.
It is not the name, I have heard it on a dozen different faces.
But they do not mean this. It is the substance
Behind this name, That makes it so values and, beyond my reach.
To know this substance is to make me feel unworthy.
To see, day by day, this one, through my eyes, is to be unworthy.
I would love, but for the feeling in my heart.
I want Her.

***Omniance

When I am gone there is not sorrow.
When I am here there is not rejoicing
Where I walk, the wise step aside.
Where I roam the land gives way.
When I am, time does not tell,
When I leave, I am timeless.
Where I wander, the void guides.
Where I end up, eternity is there.
Who I am, No one tells.
Who I was, I was everyone.
Why I am, I am to guide.
Why I guide, I am to follow.
How I am, None live who know.
How I die, I died already.
I am timeless, I am unsavory
I am limitless, I am eternity
I have time, I am sorrowed
I am listless, I am void
I am all, I am nothing.
What I am, No one knows
What will come? Nothing.

***Crystals from eyes of eyes.

Each teardrop, Crystalline, Shone with refracting light.
Shed from the body that held them, Face once bright.
Falling like lost soldiers, floating to the ground
Rejoined their brethren only to be found
Into a massive pool, shed from the eyes.
The root cause, Pain, hatred and lies.
Crystalline drops, Pure in themselves
Crystalline shards, Impure as their cause.
The pain of lost, abyss where once was reason.
Pain and void where once was purpose.
To see perfection of the minds eye cry
To see the epitaph of good fall awry.
Each crystalline drop, Floating to its fate
Causes tidal waves of disturbances in its wake
The root cause of the tears still prevalent.
Trying to ignore, trying to make it irrelevant.
Unable to stop the waves from coming
Much of the Earth washing away
Pain, hatred, anger and frustration
Washing away, Leaving only the tears
Leaving the crystals to their eyes.

***The three

Of all of life's lies, This one hurts.
You see it daily, everywhere, all time.
People say, words most encouraging,
But only few carry them true.
Some say for money, some for fake love,
Some say for entertainment, others, contentment.
If only so few words as three,
Could hurt so much as thee.
I only have myself to blame
You, yourself for your lies.
To say so few words as the three
You hurt more than 10,000 words can heal
If only you knew, if only you cared.
Life is so ruined when the three are lies.
You lied, Not yet, but to yourself.
I would hate but for the fear in my heart.
I would end this fantasy but for the fear of lies.
Have I been lies to? For fear I have,
I love you.



***Hidden loves complexion.

A simple complexion, Eye pleasing hue.
Soft furs as though air when touched.
Velvet skin on which all looks.
Simple and small, this object of affection.
Protrusions at the top with small fur like hair.
A waft, pleasing, satisfactory, one likes the smell.
The longest neck in all of creation, proportioned to its small stature.
On which, Hands the do not manipulate.
Fingers that bend only to winds will.
Waving goodbye to the past
And facing the future, stalwart, in welcome.
Feet firmly planted, unmoving.
Standing her ground.
Not even winds will, Earths shake, will move.
Undisturbed by passers by, going unnoticed.
One notices, A bow.
Comes by, Please the closer he gets.
Reminisce about love.
Soft head, warning about past, only ignored.
She is plucked from her standstill, Whisked away.
She is given to another girl. Friendship sealed with a kiss.

***Soaring will

I would soar with you, to untold heights.
To rise up against the tides of this world.
To make our stand, Fight the good fight.
To stand our ground high above the land.
Where tidal influence is but a Gentle push.
Rise up, and join with you as we fly.
Alas, I cannot, For you still have no answer.
I care not, for my love knows one boundary
You. Only you can stop my love.
As of yet, this has not happened.
I will love as long as I can.
Ah, My love, I do love you, And I have will.
Will to soar with you, for all days.
To rise and fly where hearts would soar.
My life, My love, My heart, My will, are yours.
Yours for the taking, only your heart may touch.
But as it is, still, closed and un-answering.
The offer will stand as long as I love.
My love will never end. Unless ended by word of heart.
My love, limitless, except for boundaries of yours.
I would be yours.

***Sorrows will

As I would soar with you, I would trudge.
To trudge the walk of death, towards fate.
I would follow this path alone, be it your will.
Be it your will, I would shy from the path.
Your will, be it known, is not, Starting to trudge.
Follow I will, even when there is nothing to follow.
Your heart is worth more, to me, than all I have.
But without, is trudging, as I am.
Your call would steer me afar this fate,
Following the bony hand of death, Motioning.
Continue towards fate untold, to allow
This world to unfold, as I love that path,
If it was your path, away or towards,
Death fate. The bony hand steering,
No voice to guide away.
No voice to beckon me, to a better outcome.
Come what fate will, for I would bear
The torment of a thousand deaths before
I would go against your will.
The first death beckons.
The first death I hear.

***Tides of fate driving you away.

Life drives you from me, as it wills.
On the ground, the turbulent of fate place
You outside of my reach, another day. Day after day.
Closer is deem less. I cannot get closer.
It is a simple illusion to believe that I can have you.
As close as I get, life, it would seem, drives you away,
Pulling you towards your destiny, away from me.
Only will against these times will bring you closer.
Your will, to me, it seems, is driving you away from me.
Driving with a passionate hatred, for me, from me.
For all I am, I do not understand this passion.
Why the hatred?
I do not understand. I will closer, You will away.
My life, is meaningless, as you are lost from sight.
Only your will against me I see.
I will fight,, Fight as long as I have, against the will of time.
Against your will, forced upon you by fate,
Fight it! You must, drowning I am, for will is breath.
I love your will, I wish to change, Tides are carrying
You away form me. I will, NOT! I will not fail!
I will not give up, for you are mine.

***Mainstream rapids

When riding the mainstream it is only rapids.
Some people indulge, drown, never to return.
Some people are left behind, never to join the surge.
To me, it is a continual downward spiral towards death and lot wit.
The only outcome is the Mainstream is diminished individuality.
To follow the social icons as though God walks among us.
Leading away from the sought after immunity, to traverse with
Impunity away from the power of free will.
Yes, one can "ride" the rapids, but one cannot shield
From them while within, the outcome is inevitable.
Unless you pull away, form an individual.
Become the mainstream of the future.
The outsiders of today.
Out one day, in tomorrow. Ways of the world soon to change.
Soon to change as the tides of the ocean.
Mainstream will be rip tides, pulling you under.
The outsiders will be the future, when the idols fall,
So will the mainstream infrastructure. Do not fall with it.
Fall away from fates of tides.
Fall away, into my group.
Fall in love with change, personality, individuality.

***Illness of lost words (This one got published by the way)

Sick I am, from disgust, hating this world.
Always drawing my love further from me.
No matter how I try, never can I get to her.
I have a message, Vital and important.
A life hangs in the balance of this message. Alone and forgotten.
Life draws you away from me. Lost life, lost love, eminent guidance.
You do leave, of will, forced by circumstances not foreseen
your life, which hangs in the balance of a mighty deed,
deed to be done by only yourself. To show up, accepting the letter
Deed done at some point, done too late.
For I have forgotten the message.
Where have you been, so lost from me?
My will of acceptance not having the time anymore.
Use and will fail to grasp why, Why you are so late.
My love, my message, my memory has forgotten both.
You were… No it cannot be, for you are too fair,
To have loved me. Far too fair for me to have loved.
My memory tells me I have something for you.
Something important.
Importance of the memory forgets what world may have known.
Ah, yes, here in my pocket.

***Anticipation, bloodthirsty killer.

Anticipation, they say it is better than the real thing.
However anticipation is killing me, wrecking my mind.
Allowing me to explorer possibilities, the things that hurt,
Before they even happen. The things that heal,
Usually are not prevalent when my anticipation presides.
My love, I anticipate your answer, possibilities untold,
You reading my love, professed for the first time.
The answer you give can quell an array of words,
Pouring fourth like a spilled ink bottle.
Power unlimited by your worlds. So much power you have.
Your power to guide my pen is unequaled.
My love is being seen, being read like a cipher decoded.
Being seen like an arrow flying to target, seen by
The only one that matters, seen by the only one who I care.
My love, my heart asunder.
Even if my heart is broken this day, even if my,
Life, love, heart, world are shattered, I will endure.
Endure I have and will. For I will see your heart as you like.
Anticipation of your reaction to my love, professed,
Killer of dreams, awakener of dread.

(More to come... One more post...)

[Berginyon]

***First true parting

Meeting is the first true parting.
Parting with once you were.
To embrace the new you.
The old you is dead the instant you meet someone.
The new you still has a lot of the old, but still,
Is different. You part ways yet stay in contact.
The old you remains a possibility of what may have been
What still may be if your meeting has no influence.
No change on your life to occur.
You life then reverts, joins paths with the old.
The true parting is with yourself as you were
And who you will become. Become what you will,
And a little piece of whoever it was will
Shine out forever in who you are.
The impression is the key to change.
As people affect each other, we grow to be
Somewhat like them, and as such we get stronger.
Getting more like other people but still retain
The key elements of our persons.
The meeting of one person brings all these changes.
The meeting is your first parting.

***Dirge of revenge

This dirge of the dead, walk of the living.
Lowly trudge to an untimely fate
Where only the living can create,
The path which the dead tread.
On this path of death, the dead guide.
The living follow and more to contrive,
To get to the destination, off to Death.
Dirge of the living, following the dead.
Requiem of past lives ringing fourth, resounding
Heard by the living, granted by the dead.
Requiem to help calm the living on the path,
Death, only at end, valley open,
No way out once in, the path behind,
Closes as fast as entered.
The living, no reason to live, volunteered
Wished for release. Granted wish,
Grated hopes beyond all life.
They live, this river, seething for vengeance.
Revenge of what life will bring.
Revenge is granted, through this river of death.



***Prides in simple exactness.

There are few things I pride over
Life, in the sense of the paths I take.
There are three, My pen, my written word,
And my force to Help other people, willing,
Or not, Partner in this world, connected at s level
Of understanding which I pride myself for.
However, I must warn, that for me to help in difficult
Times and extreme circumstances, I am required
To give up everything I am, Everything I have,
Simple move everything aside and get close.
There is a feeling I get about some people,
A feeling that somehow I have to make an impression.
That not matter what, I must make an impression.
Somehow I have to effect this person, and help.
The trouble is, this closeness is only achieved by willingness.
I hate this power, I hate this thing I possess, at times.
I am torn, half the time I have someone's life to fix,
Half the time I have to disengage myself from people.
As I use this power, an imprint of my host, the person
Which I was close to, is forever in me, effecting me,
Blessing and curse these impressions, as they can help too.

***It is a seeming small world.

I, of all people, understand how small one life can seem.
How utterly insignificant one small spark among billions
How entirely pointless one small life can seem.
Believe me though, as small as one life is, one spark
Can set off other sparks and start a wildfire,
Influence is how you use your spark of life,
Power come from how you manipulate your spark to,
Not only encourage, but spread sparks and flames.
Ideas and influence can be set aflame and let
All else in this world of small sparks upon
A speck in a system of sparks with a flame is all
That is only a spark.
Do not be deceived by one spark.
One spark can start miracles and wonders.
Yet again one spark can snuff candles
One spark can halt an entire brushfire,
And one spark, so small it is, in the existence
Of entire systems of sparks,
Do not be deceive by the size of the sparks,
Do not believe that size limits your potential,
Only you limit yourself, only you think you are small.

***Staring in the face of truth

As I have suspected and feared was always true,
Has finally hit the realization, has not even given a chance,
Never given a second look, No one caring to ask
Not even aloud the pleasure of turning down help
As it is never given freely without askance and even then,
Only fleetingly given freely and grudgingly granted.
My life is as meaningless to people as the rock,
Stationary, and lying in filth, does nothing and no one cares.
Not a soul cares for one so simple as me.
Not even one person cares to address me a 'Hello'.
Not asking what is wrong when it is clear.
Clear as a day of summer on the open seas,
Nothing to obstruct what was blindingly visible,
Never even left view in the first place.
Not a simple soul will ever care for me.
Love does not show, people could not care.
My life, insignificant, has only impact on me,
And I will say, suspecting all that I wish,
Suspecting beyond doubt that I was always right.
Always correct in assuming the worst.
No one will ever care for me.

***Complexing of life, love.

Love, simple as it is. Adds complexity to life.
Once nothing more than a traveler, wander the land,
Brings in the responsibility they cannot work with.
Love, it would seem, is not but heartache.
Traveler cannot love and do what traveler is to do.
Wonder the world, roam where he will.
Love sets routs, plans a final destination.
Love sets all goals aside. Love sets all spirit to root.
Roots, foundation, infrastructure of life, life without experience.
My life follows the same path. Wander, listless, reasonless.
Love steps in, ruins, sets all things aside.
I would hate my own heart, but cannot,
For love subdues all hatred, all anger.
But for my loves case, she has no roots. No just cause,
No reason for to stay, for she does not love.
Rooted I am. Already from my love
A passerby you will become, not noticing.
Like a flower I am, Roots in place.
No moving, unresponsive. Dead to the world of onlookers.
My love, You added complexity, you took life away.
And all you did, was not notice, and walk away.

***Torments of love

Torments, tortures, horrid pain.
Love can cause all, love can cure all.
Love is the greatest weapon, love is the worst foe.
It cannot be defeated, you cannot harden.
There is not spell, no untapped power to defeat ones love.
Love, the power of one person to connect to another,
Love, the power to manipulate a persons outlook.
Love, the power for one to use it as weakness
Love, the best of all the worst things,
Love, the worst of the best.
Love, the power to make, beautiful things.
Love, the power to destroy, people and places.
Love, the power to conquer, all things, little things
My heart, manipulated, abused, unused, unwanted, unloved.
My love, cripples, antagonized, Destroys, the worst of worst.
I love, not to hurt, harm, destroy, cripple, abuse or manipulate.
I love simply to love, be loved,
Indecisive, cannot pick.
Love, died, love, live, cannot love and live with horror.
Horror of harm, horror of pain, to not inflict, I hope.
Torments of love, even without.

***Curse of Gifts

My gift, My curse, My blessing,
The seeds of my own demise,
Writ of word made of my own design,
Great power, supplied by my own self.
Cursed with the inevitability of enemies,
Blessed with the power to write in friends,
Power of this fine instrument of writing,
Delivering messages so powerful to bring to tears,
Strongest of man, most fortified of women.
The very power to bring success and followers,
To find succor in this blessing,
This gift of written language,
Allowances leeway of ones own limitations,
Limitations pressed open by others around,
Many of such from those closest,
Is to find something to devote ones life to,
Ones life so devoted brings sown seeds,
Planted by predecessors and creed.
Ones demise eminent, the more the gift is used,
The more evident the seeds power.
My gift, of writ, to love, to lay aside.

***Torn by self's life

My life is not in pieces, cut, divided,
Line drawn with my own pen,
Tangents of possibilities, 3 evident.
To lay aside this pen of grace, to waste away,
Anger, hate, love, anguish, all become torture,
Bottles inside to torment forevermore.
To continue, to build this wall that never sleeps.
To maintain my distance, to carry on as always,
To carry the burden of my own love, harassed by
Loves own badger, never to act, never to acknowledge.
To do both, to accept life as others would,
Write as a cautious life, wandering to uncharted
Potential of human power.
The choices, as they are, tempting licid.
Be it the lotus flower to draw me to
Continue, carry on, my love does not agree.
My heart speaks "move now, or forever
Silenced, only to hear faint scratches of pen
On paper, tormented with the voice in my head."
Torments by love as love would see destroyed.
My life torn by pen love and head, Where to go?

***Curse of Curses

This curse, Curse of all Curses.
My curse, rite of way, power to light,
Power to brighten, even the darkest of days
Power to darken the brightest of fires.
My power, writ with words, writ with power,
Power unnerving, power unending,
Endearing to empower the weakest of faults,
Endevoring to bring to light, tears and pangs,
Pangs slings, life, hatred, joy, life,
Power to give life to all.
This curse, writing, all that I feel of the times.
This curse, forces me into writing sessions,
Hours of minutes, forcing me to miss simplessions.
This curse, to write, everything I see,
Everything I feel, unending curse.
Tormenting when out of writing,
No where for the words to go, No destination.
Pain of pent up worries, words,
Empowered to be written.
Empowered to be read.
Empowered to curse me.

***Five sides

Five sides of the same argument.
Five pieces in the puzzle,
Five opinions, all come from me.
2 sides resounding to show, love and life,
3 sides against, forcing me to listen,
The reasons for are whispers who's arguments
Are very limited in size and proportion.
Against is thunderous as a waterfall, drowning all.
To listen to against would end all writing,
To listen to for might end all writing.
I try, to listen to for, I try to obey
Against is so loud. Against makes so much sense.
I strain, to listen to for, the arguments small,
I cannot, for the avalanche s thunder, raining reasons.
For, I love, For I care.
Against, rejections, against, weakness, against, impossibility.
Follow my heart, follow my head,
Pro's and con's on both sides, safety against.
Uncertainty, for.
I listen to both for now,
Till the voice of reason, tells me for.

***hasten of answers

Your unquavering support, your undying generosity.
Your rock hard demeanor, your gentle voice,
Your inability to seem vulnerable, your softness
Your love, unintentional malice,
Your inability to love what you do not know,
Your inability to give a chance,
Your passion, your fire, your very drive,
I love these all, of your powers you one impotence.
Speech, to me. A request, a simple yes or no,
Love torments me. Horrific duitifer, genocidal love,
Killer of all things that are me, my Universe,
As I see it. This love thing, Not sure it is
For me, my live now is forfeit to the closest bearer
Of bad news, Ill content. Please whisk me away to
Some desolation where love cannot harm or even find.
Alone, of heart, of match, of equal, desolation.
Self committal. Never to return, but here, what is this?
A call, my answer. It has come.
Arrive, nearness I have, close to you.
Trembling lips, inability to straightly answer.
Perhaps a kiss would hasten.

***Black -hearted- wait

This black hearted wait, this state of mind,
This emotion, so dark, blackened by the length.
Prolonged time spent in waiting for love.
I know now what love is, It is not an act,
An action that can simple be done and done away.
Love is the connection two people have, simply through
Knowledge of the other. The power to love comes
From knowing of and about a person and how
You feel towards them, you never have
To meet the person, physical contact not necessary
My love, torn apart by time zones difference, my love
Apart a country away, power to love made possible
By the miracle of written word and communication.
My love, proven without contact or conduct, proven
Through me. Me, Myself, and nothing else. Love,
Love is what has empowered me to write, love.
And love is so divine in its pathways
To lead on a Journey through life as
A witness to all that is good and pure,
Love is what drives me.


***Even distance cannot hold off my love

In this period of time, the wait is inevitable.
To wait for love, answers, and confirmation,
To wait for something far off.
This wait is unbearable, this wait is pain.
Pain of torture for anticipation of something,
Something not known, though not unwanted.
My life to endeavor, to persevere the wait,
To allow my heart into what has waited.
My heart lies with one, one who cannot love,
Cannot love until the time is right.
The right time, when conveniences and coincidences,
Circumstances and consequences allow,
The time for love resides in the loves
True passion, true passion is anticipation.
What love will bring from this relationship
Of distance holds far truer than
Any loves word or any loves act.
To love for this period of time unfaltering
Holds true what really matters.
What really matters is love, no matter the
Distance, Love no matter the wait.

***Redemption of love

I know how you would feel,
For I have felt it myself.
I believe we have met for a purpose,
And it is powerful, this purpose.
I met you to start writing,
And write I do, for before I met you, I had nothing.
Nothing worthy of note, Nothing of any value.
Now I have a lot, mostly writing, with your inspiration.
I also see now I have a need to know you,
I have always felt a need to know you,
I believe that me seeing you that first day
Was not only no accident, but also meant to be.
I also believe that my love was misguided.
Perhaps not, But I have need to pry into,
To be let into, your life, there is something I must do,
Some reason to help.
Think of this, what would your life have been?
The decisions that you would have made, if I was not there,
What would you have done differently?
All I know is I went from zero to 50 redeeming things,
In the few months I have known you.

***Friends light.

My friends are not here,
This desolate location of heart.
My friends know not where
This place I have lain to rest, my aching heart.
But please, do not know me
For it may be too late as I cannot turn.
The valley of shadow, the land of death,
This is where I now reside,
Waiting for the icy hand of death to clutch
My beating red drum and silence life.
Life beyond death and shadows without object.
Objecting to life as it shows up on their doorstep.
Wailing shadows, Homes disturbed, life distraught.
However, there is hope, Beyond the wailing.
Life is seen once more, A glimmer only,,
Shining bright as a star, far away,
In an empty night, bright as a lone star.
Here the life shows only a glimmer, but,
To it I must follow, if life be my destiny,
So be it Life is what I will follow,
O, Beacon, O, light.

***Windows of scorn

Behind these scornful eyes lies what,
No matter the things they say, really matters.
Matters to me and not the rest. The simple things.
The mind, the power, the past and the future.
All behind the eyes, the domain of souls.
Behind these scornful eyes is the fields,
The farms, the homes, the wandering grounds for lives.
Lives of the past, here to advise or roam the lush
Lands, the empty space provided for them.
There is no place more distant from acknowledgment,
No place further from communication. No place,
Where no one knows but you, and the lives within.
These lives live to advise, to advise with their knowledge.
Only through these eyes do they see life,
Only through these eyes do they see the truth.
And only through these eyes do the lives advise.
These scornful eyes gaze at the word, unperturbed,
Unbroken, unwanted. And these eyes do not really see.
The lives behind, distraught., and turning scornful,
Resenting the world for what is presented through eyes,
Behind these scornful eyes lies hope.

***Akemashite Omeidetougozte Masu (happy new year (Japanese))

As this New Year rings, the past still sounds.
Trumpeting as who I was, who I am, and who I might have been.
Resounding my mistakes, Whispering success, and regrets.
Every person I met, every friend and enemy alike,
Shout and scream in the dying voice of last year. Dissents of past.
This past is a cruel thing that only non-existence can hide.
The truths of the past, my wrongs, my rights
Are ever prevalent. Never cease the words of past.
What I was, I am no longer, as time progress I change,
Flow of time, flow of change, equal elapse.
The New Year advocates the changes that are forthcoming
Power of change is in the mystical forces of people's free will.
My will, Resistant, Obstinate, and brooding, has yet to,
Willingly, change with the flows of the future.
But this future, ever changing it is, with the wills of people,
Is not to be as feared as it yells to be.
Follow its pain and it will drag you down to torment.
Follow its ever-changing paths of truths,
And prosper with its fortunate tidings
As this New Year rings, let the past flow away.

That is all that I have typed at the moment... I hope you liked it all.

Thanks for listening

--Bergy.

[Berginyon]

Finally... There is the last of it... Tell me what you think... after the ten years it will take yall to read it... (Just be glad it is not my handwritten stuff (Which that all was... Mostly...) Becuase that really WOULD take you 10 years.

--Bergy.

[Berginyon]

Well shoot. If it hasn't been said before... i write a LOT... And I mean...

A LOT And... Whoa if that isn't a lot...

--Bergy.