I am jack's tormented heart

Behind the torrent of illogical blabber, And behind the placid thoughtful look and the unassuming smile, You and me, we shall find each other. And think of love. Somewhere ahead of the mirage, the horizon And all its kind You and me, we shall find each other. And think of love. Caressing and finding crevices, On a happy glass surface. On each other's faces, The crevices of broken stories. Delving inside, we shall find laughter. Of such stark clarity. Bred by innocence, And wrought by time. And after the lucid emotions, You shall find hope. In faded photographs, And in stupid letters of love. And we might meet, And i might give you an unassuming smile, Come, as you are.  We shall find each other, And maybe, think of love.

Longings are such a curse. Remembering eyes and hair. And weird pretty looks. Remembering touches. Cheeks smeared with tears Because crying is realizing.  Because crying is Acceptance ,without a smile. And i go about my life. Laughing, making others laugh. Writing poems and internals. Poems that are like life. Poems that do not rhyme. Laughing, and never crying. Oh, such stupidity.

The known, is known and done with. Don't sit back and relish on it. The unknown is worth everything. To the mountains that i haven't seen, To the rivers that i haven't flown with, to the campings that i haven't done, and to that old jeep i'm yet to own. To the poetry that i haven't read, And to the walks that i haven't walked, To this abstract,i have hope For this abstract, I'd rather live.

I feel like a time traveler. As if it has been decades,centuries of my existence. Don't mistake it as something haughty, or arrogant or something else. I read about things and i feel that i have been there and absorbed the melodies of those bygone years. I had been there with Sinatra, and with Morrison, with Axl Rose and his skin tight jeans. With Sackett, and with Kid Rodelo,I traveled the far blue mountains. Sipping black coffee,living off the grass, i survived the frontier with strong Irish people. Passing history as I walk,I feel the pebbles talking, the big oak smiling gently, laughing at my inquisitiveness. The foreign lands are not so foreign. And the seas have never been so calm. Soaked in knowledge of past years and people, it feels complete. There is contentment and yet,there is an urge to know more. Life's ending,one minute at a time. A subtle hurry it is.   

In a flash,it changed. The London weather gave way to the sunshine of southern France. That's how life was with her. In an instant she could come and twist and break me with a couple of strange upright non romantic letters. For her eyes bore into mine and melted me in an instant. Lazer eyes melted the soft iron core. But i liked it. I liked the way we would go on talking for hours and the world ceased to exist. Our words intermingled,to form poetry and that's how we would talk then. She is pretty. Those big eyelashes. That kajal smudge,for she used it,and i loved it. And strange as it was,i never knew what hit me until she was no longer there. Yes,in a flash it changed. The sunshine gave way to London weather,had me up in bottles of beer   and an unkempt beard. That's why i write at in the night. What is it now, 1: 20 am? Because he,who loved the light,made darkness his own. And she's all grown up, and the kajal's not so smudgy now. But i long to