Let down, I feel my heart had been sucked into a vacuum. Everytime I think I see what could possibly be a glimpse of what I dreamed of, I lose my tongue, swallow my blood, and misplace my words. Heart stops and beats twice, sensing a seizure, or is it a stroke... If only I had a stroke of luck, I could snap my fingers and relive my one time to shine; perhaps redo a moment in that moment in which I wasn't at my best. Or was it the other way around? I'll never know, but I'd sure like to ask; ask why I went from such a divine state of mind to being devoured by inadequacy...
incompetency...
of such dearth, that one must rely on now shackled resources once regarded distasteful to provide the some kinda dream that I hoped to provide. My veins, once full of life, now lock up and freeze at the thought of a name. And get this: my temporary antidote may solve my emotional scarring, but now another problem may exist, and that's never good. So I resolve that I can never return to that road...
Fuck that.
That's my road. I paved that way, the least that can happen is that it is respected, and never returned. I cannot even bear to put it on paper this burning chaste that consumed me since the very first hot August. Or was it that eventful November afternoon... It really doesn't matter. How I sustain is still uncertain; but until then, the entity is not a person, not a human being, but only a name that deserves my most bitter venom, but doesn't even deserve to hear the words come out of my mouth. It is one that I care for yet despise the most. It's not a woman, not a bitch, but merely, the undecisive entity that could be nothing more than the name of this freelance...
Frustration

Absolut Terry @ 11:21 PM| link

Second Chance?

My heart must've been too foolish to understand
what is a warning, and when it must be heeded;
for I have fallen yet again in a hole
I may not be able to climb out of.
I spoke with such aspiration
yet bled with such anxiety
over the possibility of the second chapter
that I may finally find what I longed for,
waiting here for so long.

I'm left with no pride; taken in for this ride.
Never before have I thought
that the day would take so long,
yet feel that night had come too soon.
For the angst I endure from the sun
equally compares to the restlessness
of my silent moon.
Essentially, all I've left to do is pray,
that my dream comes to full fruition.

While my emotions escalate,
and my understanding degenerates,
I've become too foolish to consider
the matters of the most importance.
I've become too insensitive to see
what the bigger picture might become.
Whether a lady will materialize out of my picture book
and fufill my destiny;
or whether I'm cruising for another bruising
and my dreams shatter once more.

And so I lay here
sifting through my sea of uncertainty
I turn the pages of the second chapter of chance,
pondering if I'll ever get my feet on the ground
and pull out a miracle in the process...

Absolut Terry @ 1:10 AM| link

Broken Pencil

Writing my thoughts, and paying the penny
with a pencil, full of life, full of meaning
as I express my love... scratch that
as I long for her touch... scratch that
scribble scribble scribble, tat tat
the pencil flips upside down, right side up
seeing its mistakes, and learning
by erasing to start over... tat... tat... tat...
again; like I who moves on to forgive by forgetting.

A snap can turn my life around
and it breaks the pencil in two
I quickly glance at my Skagen
to determine how much time will be wasted
between sharpening my pencil and finding a new one
I sit there, my thoughts held up in suspense
as I glance at the useless device of my life
The point that pencil lost
its life, now taken from it; rendering it meaningless.

If you fail to understand how my pencil and I
coexist on paper, then you missed the point;
and you are no different from I and my broken pencil.
Instead of searching for a new life
like so many do, taking forever in the process;
I go to sharpen my pencil; hone its usefulness
and bring back the point,
the purpose we so desperately need.

Once more, as before, I write; learning to control
the emotions that caused my erring in the first place.
My life story continues, and only one reaction is invoked:
Next penny, please...
scribble scribble scribble, tat tat.

Absolut Terry @ 10:04 PM| link

Love & Logic II
or
Love Hate Me

Yes, what I say is true
Love must really hate me
for wishing on a star that night
that the world
would leave me alone.
For as I pray to find the missing half
that might fill my shell with life,
Forces would only comply
to my first request.

Only love would make me change the world;
and leave me making plans
for nobody. No one.
Only love would let me do nothing,
lead me to the fallacy that it found me;
and the only thing I unwrap
is It's extra baggage
asking me to help by holding it.
Only love would say that it
makes things happen at the right time;
and leave me finding
the right people at the wrong time.

Logically, I will not relinquish
my principles for another who can't share them.
Yes love may equal compromise
but at the end of the equation,
it will also let me fall; logic in hand...

...and I fall,
holding on to logic
into a battle with a bitter enemy
which I know for fact
may hate me more than it should.
Who knew love could do even the impossible?

Absolut Terry @ 12:37 AM| link

Oh my freelance blog; how I have neglected thee?
I can only blame father time
mother nature
and all the circumstances that forced me
to put my imagination and word lacing
on a shelf; never to be found.
But I cleaned my spring in the winter
and now I have returned
with a newfound dedication of sorts
to undo the time that has elasped
[five months, not even I could believe it!]
between then and now.
I might have apologised a thousand times before
but this 1001 for 2006
will see me at here least once a month.
Writer's block will not make
me easily give in to folding.
So this is my sorry for 2006
and let our relationship flourish
as it has in the past.
This, my belief, is my first request.


And guess what, that was not the freelance I was posting!!
For more info, see my brother site.
With that said...
My first freelance of 2006!!!

Limbo
I wish I knew what's on
her conscious, her inner-most;
is it the signal,
that I can finally go ahead,
or at least know where I stand?
To find a way to persuade her
to my side of the fence
As I fall in love
with this girl from Canarsie.

I feel as though I can't help but feel her...
I recall the first time I held her hand
over and over and all over
touching it, holding for warmth
and perhaps finding more.
It could be that I've been
taken for a ride played to heartbreak;
having flashbacks of the first time
as my only solace, and my only enabler.
Have I found what it is I needed most
or has my sensitivity gotten in the way?
Exhausted is what I've become
after feeling like I've been let on all this time
to be smitten for the kill
It is my options, logical or otherwise
for my only choice is to exercise patience
as though Godot were coming
to sweep me off my feet.
I won't lie however,
thinking of her now gives me butterflies
and growing pains that go away
when our eyes finally meet...

and now that we meet again,
and fate wrestles me for control of my destiny
all I ask is that you take off your covers,
turn off all your smoke screens,
and let the only game we play
is the one where we imitate
lovers on the big screen.

Absolut Terry @ 12:44 AM| link

I know guys. It's been a long time since I've been here.
But here's my latest creation for you. Hopefully, the first of some good ones to come.
From da other side...

Blackout

My home was just a house
a normal passer-by in the 21st Century world
where at a speed, faster than the blink of an eye
a woman and I pass each other.
Neither one of us give in to
the temptations of serenity and closeness.
I'm sure I never asked for it to feel this way
And for a time, I could say the same for her.
But our realities overtook our dreams
and we headed into different directions
to that of demand and supply:
while our labor demands, our house holds the equilibrium
where we meet, and fill up our supply.
Me and she move along our curves,
certain the ride never ends...

Then...
The air that would suppress our heat flows away.
The lights that divert our attention find new visions of black.
The voices that occupy our minds
with that of temporary voids disappear.
The sounds that we've come to know
as the soundtrack our roller-coaster dissipates...
...total darkness.

No longer led astray by the world we led
our heat becomes joint at the hip.
The voices we hear now are ours; they cry
Cover me. Hide me. I don't want to lose you...
The candle that is lit becomes the very light we hide in
as we come to an understanding of this temporary circumstance.
The rewritten soundtrack recalls a familiar setting:
the time where none of what surrounded us mattered;
where we were important.

Funny, it is that our one dark moment
brought feelings and emotions hidden into the spotlight;
forcing us to address the immediate need
to turn her and my house to our home.
And even though the 21st Century resumes living,
and even though frigid yet welcome air returns,
The love she and I forgot is renewed.
and Chapter 3 is written.

Absolut Terry @ 12:02 AM| link

This one may be coming in a little bit early, but hey, it came, right?
So, without further ado, from the other side...

Shawana, The Red-Nosed Mother

Shawana the red-nosed mother
had a pimple on her nose
and if you ever saw it
You probably would think it glows
All of Shawana's children
teased her up and called her names;
and they wouldn't let Shawana
play any of their card games.

Then one foggy Mother's Day
Their father came to say:
Shawana, with your nose so bright,
won't you play Romie tonight?

Then all the children booed him
as Shawana won the game...
Shawana the red-nosed mother
Had a happy Mother's Day!!!

-Bridge-

And on that foggy Mother's Day
Their father went to say:
Shawana, see the candlelight?
I went and made dinner tonight...

Shawana and her husband
rocked the whole night away...
To Shawana and all the mothers:
Have a Happy Mother's Day!

Absolut Terry @ 12:20 AM| link