The Sense of Loss

KDE is all about Dolphin now. I really enjoy the Konqueror, but if it can no longer automatically update for security and stability reasons then I have to drop it. Took me a minute to get a KWin file manager up and running. Words:



The Sense of Loss

The sense of loss…
Fleeting, barely a glimpse,
It’s the IF,
The what could have been,
All of the things that could have mattered,
But didn’t.
How many lies does love tell?
More than that,
Do the people who honestly love
Know about the envy of those
Who don’t?
There is the small matter
Of the fading awareness,
The dying light that is the human consciousness.
Lost stories,
Lost dreams,
And many other things
A good man should care about.
Lost hopes
And pleasant illusions gone
Wash over me in pale hues.
Remember, I wish,
But nothing,
Only a vague sense
Of the uneasy.
Concerns and worries fade,
Dissolve into a world
Where the salt shaker
May as well be an international treaty.
International?
Maybe the term should have been
Consolidated.
A dinosaur in the urban scene
Would understand
What the hell is really going on,
Far better than I.
Sometimes great meaning skips a beat,
And in that moment these words
Grin out at you like a pariah.
The meaning of life sometimes translates
Into very, very hungry.
Vampires exist.
Every moment I stare at the pale flesh
Of one who I would devour
I am painfully reminded.
Cannibal does not fit the scenario.
I want to eat, and eat again,
And reap a companion for my efforts,
One as voracious as I.
Daydreams do exist.
Consumed by lust,
So does my psyche prosper.
Many items to peruse,
Many packages to review,
Life should be complete…
Another attempt at humor.
Roll another number,
Roll your insufficient life into the bayou,
Roll over and play dead.
No one will ever notice.
Suicide seems so pointless
When it affects no one.
Many lives once concerned,
Now look the other way:
Definition of alienation.
Alone
With only my faith
And the useless, false hope,
I remain warm
[The summer sun].
The sky licks my flesh,
Without heed to my volition,
Sunburn.
Loveburn:
I lick and lick,
The area becomes inflamed,
And the bearer becomes enraged.
I am not the sun.
Union.
The place where I exist,
That state in which my own words
Convince me there is nothing wrong,
And all of the universe crumbles
As I sip tea.
If only the self-told lies
Could be true to me.
Oh, sure, the world can hold its own,
But I am left wondering,
Wandering.