Posts Tagged ‘forgotten’

Write in Pen

Monday, September 27th, 2010

Write in Pen
He says blandly
I look up surprised
Always use a pen
Pencils are worthless
He blows out smoke
From a drooping mouth
Pulled down by age
If you want your work
To be serious
Write in pen
All else will be forgotten
If it can be erased,
It will be erased.

I look at the old pencil
Sitting in my hands
It had grown small
And grungy
From repeated and relentless use
But I always write in pencil
I say as I watch
His indifference
Smirking at me
Over the top
Of a wilted old newspaper
He shrugs
Then you will be forgotten
That was all he said
As he folded his paper
Dropped his cigarette
Snuffing it out
With the toe
Of his fancy shoes
I told myself to forget him
His words meant nothing
Just smoke and mirrors
From a strange old man
Yet here I am writing in pen


The Old Door

Friday, August 20th, 2010

I have yet again found myself
Standing in front of the old wooden door
Once it was beautiful
But now no more
It is broken and withered
Destroyed by age
But still I remember the time
When behind that door
A life was held
Born and raised
Someone lived behind that closed door
But now they are gone
Leaving the door wide open
To let all evil inside
It is empty now
Only filled with time
The only remnant left
The old wooden door
Long ago left behind
It is hanging now
By one rusty hinge
Hidden in over grown grasses
Blowing slowly in the wind
I can’t remember the child’s name
Who once lived behind this door
No memories remain
I try to remember
But there is nothing left
Just the old wooden door
And a forgotten address

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Posted in Photos, Poetry |

Holy Cross Cemetery

Saturday, June 19th, 2010

I went on a small adventure with my mom and my camera and ended up in an interesting place. I found this cemetery with one of my friends near the Santa Cruz Animal Shelter and finally returned to get a better look. This cemetery is a somewhat creepy place mainly because many of the tombs are cracked, old, and written all over. It has an extreme air of a melancholy, and forgotten place that once used to be beautiful but was left to wither in time by vandalism and time itself.

Some of the headstone still intact were extremely beautiful like this one that just have such a haunting air about them. Some of the tombs still had flowers near them, but very few are still intact. Just a few people, it seems, keep coming back to visit and honor their dead while most others simple destroy a place once so beautiful. Even the graffiti on the wall seems haunting.

I look forward to finding more hidden places like this around Santa Cruz or anywhere, if you know of any cool haunts are Santa Cruz county please share i would like some new places to explore.



Sunday, March 21st, 2010

There is the quiet hum
Of a T.V. on silent
Sterilized white walls
Everything is so quiet
Yet so very loud
Footsteps echo in the halls
Whispers sound like screams
As they fall on dying ears
Do you know who you are
Or why you are here?

Who ever knows
Who ever will
As they roll
Another one away
Down a long hallway
That they never come back from

He is the one who remains
Locked in by
See through curtains
That cast shadows around him
like ghosts
And thousands of tubes
He is always alone
No one ever at his side
No family
No friends
No memories in the night
To keep him company
In the darkest hours of night
Where the ghosts are so close
And death stands at the foot
Of his skinny little bed
Telling him to come along
It is finally your time

There is just a pile of old postcards
That he bought for himself
What feels like a lifetime ago
From all the places he had been
And said he would never forget
But now he can’t remember
Anything at all
He forgets where he is
And who he is
He is separated and detached
From reality
By what he lacks
Waiting all alone
In a white washed room
With only a T.V. on mute
For company
And a stack of empty postcards
All waiting for the inevitable
The one thing he can never forget
That death is lingering
So very close
He can feel its breath
Whispering in his ear
In a hospital room where Lethe
Swept him away from all he knew
And ever loved
For him there is no future
Or a past
He is floating in an abyss
Stuck between heaven and hell

The monitor beeps
Slower and slower
The man turns his head
And looks at the postcards
With old weary eyes
He reaches up with his weighted hands
Shaking and fumbling
As he picks one up
A little smile on his dried cracked lips
I remember
He whispers but no one hears
As the monitor stops
And a lone tear
Slips from his eye
Staining the postcard
As it falls
Drifting slowly to the ground
Remembered at last
But forgotten forever