you ask about my words
words of sadness
of heaviness of haunting
cloudy words
words colored with the blues
their sounds of sorrow
come from the shadows
of those dark streets
where the sun don’t shine
where love is a one-way
dead-end alley
the heart’s barren tenements
testimony to the emptiness
of lonely days where
the only defense from
the elements of reality
lies in the black cloak
of endless nights
the only light beaming
down from last years
twinklestars in the sky
james dean walkin’ down
in times square
that’s no longer square
just a closed circle
no way in no way out
and it’s true i feel haunted
but aren't we all
haunted
haunted by someTHING
someONE
by ourSELF?
from this life or
another life
haunted for sure
and threads of that haunting
trailing along with us still
leaving a legacy to be told
to be spoken
to be woven into words
haunted threads
waiting to be woven into words
and when the weavin’ is done
displayed for all to see
to feel to taste to hear
words
yeah, i’ve walked those streets
the streets of the blues
saw you there one night too
walked those blues
most of my life
know the neighborhood
of heaviness of haunting
cloudy words
words colored with the blues
their sounds of sorrow
come from the shadows
of those dark streets
where the sun don’t shine
where love is a one-way
dead-end alley
the heart’s barren tenements
testimony to the emptiness
of lonely days where
the only defense from
the elements of reality
lies in the black cloak
of endless nights
the only light beaming
down from last years
twinklestars in the sky
james dean walkin’ down
in times square
that’s no longer square
just a closed circle
no way in no way out
and it’s true i feel haunted
but aren't we all
haunted
haunted by someTHING
someONE
by ourSELF?
from this life or
another life
haunted for sure
and threads of that haunting
trailing along with us still
leaving a legacy to be told
to be spoken
to be woven into words
haunted threads
waiting to be woven into words
and when the weavin’ is done
displayed for all to see
to feel to taste to hear
words
yeah, i’ve walked those streets
the streets of the blues
saw you there one night too
walked those blues
most of my life
know the neighborhood
like the back of my hand
the dark empty streets
with the harmonica wailin'
from the shadows
the streets of the unfulfilled
the unrequited the unlived
the avenue of unlove
the avenue of unlife
still walkin’ those blues
right beside you
[inspired by roger, trevor, nevine, trish -
to whom i send much gratitude and love]
the dark empty streets
with the harmonica wailin'
from the shadows
the streets of the unfulfilled
the unrequited the unlived
the avenue of unlove
the avenue of unlife
still walkin’ those blues
right beside you
[inspired by roger, trevor, nevine, trish -
to whom i send much gratitude and love]
11 comments:
Jenean, you are so profound, so real, and so incredibly human. Your voice is my voice speaking inside my head. Your words are the words you said to all of us, and then a few more... that you thought... that you felt... that are real, and are your reality and truth, and the reality and truth of everyone who has "lived". And isn't all of what you describe precisely why we do what we do on our blogs? We purge our pasts, our "un's", we even try to purge our happy memories because we are so haunted by past happiness. And we come here and all "walk the blues" together, because we all know just what you're talking about.
I always say this, Jenean, when people ask me why my writing is so dark: "I am a happy person with a dark mind." And the dark mind comes from life past and present. It's good to know that those of us who feel your words can commune here, and read, and know. Such a lovely gift you are, Jenean!
Nevine
It's wonderful to be a happy person with a dark mind. It leads you places no one else explores. Many times over the years, people have asked me why I write the kind of novels I do. My response? I write what I enjoy reading, the dark mysteries of life. Really wonderful to have found you, Jenean.
i think there is truth to the fact that if one is happy, contented[the words make me shudder], their soul somehow loses something in the translation...i know that if i had not walked the path of one mentally ill at one time, my words would not be so strong, my art would be pallid compared to NOW, the work still left inside that needs a voice to express it's pain, it's woundedness...so brava to you, dear lady, this is powerful stuff... thank you for your courage and your lovely light.
xoxox
Glesga is still aghast with the streets of the unfullfilled.
jimmy, my heart walks those streets with you and all the others!
well, nevine, you own words leave me without any of my own - they move me so - truly they do - i am moved and humbled and grateful - thank you -
and of you and your words, trish - no where to begin or end - just a circle that always was always will be - thank you for all of it!
lovelylinda - for one whose own light sheds such brightness on us all, your words are even more meaningful - and i thank you for them and the thoughts attached -
and to all above and who may come after in these comments, i thank you for your words, your thoughts, support and caring - we all walk these streets, dark ones and brightly lit ones, together - and for that i am so grateful!
A powerful image and haunting words.
dear trevor - gee, i'm only just this moment seeing your comment here - one made nearly a week ago - i confess to being remiss in checking older posts sometimes - so i thank you now for such a meaningful comment! and for coming by!!!
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