Tuesday, 30 June 2015

Time Lost

Time Lost

My breath is caught somewhere between hammered heartbeats.
The once rhythmic inhalation and exhalation of breath 
    is now suspended beneath my breast.
My lungs burn with the need for air
    to fill my lungs once more. 

Seconds seem like minutes,
    time warped by my desire to catch my breath.

Your words scorch my soul and pilfer this breath from my body.
Your voice is acidic and speaks your incurable displeasure.
Your tongue lashes out with the need
    to leave our battle victorious.

Minutes seem like hours,
   time warped by your desire to control me.

My pulse ricochets around inside my head, pulsing at my temples. 
A crimson river of blood rages beneath my skin.
My heart hammers with the need
    to feel loved by you again.

Hours seem like days,
  time warped by my desire to rescue our once enchanted love.

Your face is no longer one I recognize, a monster in its place.
The set of your jaw clamped tight to contain your frustration.
Your eyes glaze over with the need
    to conceal your softer side.

Days seem like weeks,
    time warped by your desire to obscure your fragility.

Tears fall from my cheeks like rivers across a parched and fragile land.
The tracks they leave behind a reminder of how much we have lost.
My soul aches with the need
    to get back to what we once were. 
Weeks seem like months.
Months seem like years.
Years are an eternity.
    Our time is warped by my desire to fix the unfixable.

By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Richest of Poor

*** this poem is being published in a collection of Canadian poetry - http://www.polarexpressions.ca/Shop.html
 (book is called Waking Dawn (currently SOLD OUT)  ***

It is with bleeding hearts we bare
  our souls to those we love
  pockets stripped, backs bare beneath the sun
  immeasurable worth within our nullity

It is with souls afire we share
  the truth hidden from the rest
  hearts ripped apart, knees planted in the earth
  value offered up to humble hearts of kin

It is with hungry eyes we wake
  to see the world as yet before
  rose hue sun bleached, awash with unsulliedness
 a king's ransom to those addled in shadow

~ T.J. White (2015)