POEM: So you can hear me scream

So you can hear me scream
--------------------------------
(27 Dec 2010)

here I am, again in that post traumatic funk,
the junk makes you feel, tired, sad, bitter, and cold.

here I am, again in that quite solitary bunk,
and as that punk had hit your gut, just at the time
                            that something you had taken from then.

now cold, bitter, sad, and tiring of what life became,
yah know, that same junk that, again lead to this post traumatic state.

I am here, in this place I never wanted to be, never, wanted-
because seeing what is seen making the memories painful and cold.

I am here, for the second time, because that one that loved,
shoved away into another arm, arms, seemingly hitting right in the gut,
                            right in the gut… even now echoing the blow.

it is sad, cold, and wanting anything other than a post traumatic scream,
in this stream of ideas, disjointed and metaphorically haphazardly
                            and specifically placed here.

you are there, just to listen to this gut ripping pain, that brings here,
the stain on my heart, mind, body.  All signed, sealed
                            and delivered by someone else.

you are not there, to hear the scream howl through the ether,
in this world we could not be friends, even like now, here, reality.

this form
            I break, the reality I refute, this scream is here, and now.
            proudly loudly I will wear the purity of this mind and spirit.

so, as I break from this form,
            i hope that you see that we need to try,
            try and see the beauty we both saw in the
                                       rays of the morning light.
                                       
my love, for we were complete, and I believed signed, sealed,
                                       and never lost.
it has always seemed thrown away, 

            seen as an evil ploy of a seemingly desperate soul.

all I can say, my love, is that I did and do, completely.

                                            - klaus andrews 

POEM: more than what once was.

Just one... that i was moved to write.

more than what once was.
--------------------------------
(15 Jan 2002)

here i write, these words...
  focussed on their place, this time.

there they exist, just as words...
  blurred in their meaning, just enough.
  
everywhere this time, they exist...
  in just the way they seem, as they are.

knowing who i am, they saw just the cover...
  the cover of events, that seems more that it was.
  
now seeking to grow beyond, as i have become...
  more than i once was, this time.
  
Yet... i wonder, and wish to catch up...
  more than what once was.

                                            - klaus andrews 

POEM: Untitled 01

This is yet another relationship one from a while back... looks like i do write these a lot.

Untitled 01
--------------------------------
(15 Jan 2002)

Embarrissed of my brow
    -Voice strained and hoarse

Troubled by my love
    -Made painfull and bitter

Standing here within my room
    -Cold and indeffferently stolid

Moments with strong words
    -Made painfull and bitter

Stolid, cold and harsh
    -Only warmth elludes her mouth

Anger, fear, love, and health
    -Made painfull and bitter

look here
    -And here

There stands an answer
    -Made painfull and bitter.

                                            - klaus andrews

POEM: i, really, do...

Ok, i usually don't write these kinds of poems, but circumstances in my life, as of late, has driven me here... its a sad one, for i fear i will never be by her side again.

i, really, do...
--------------------------------
(30 Dec 2008)

i really miss your smiling voice, loving heart, that calming force
    you exert into my being.
i really miss your touch, that lip that lingers in our kiss, that leg,
    i caress as i ponder my next steps -

i really missed the chance to see that love blossom and to exist
    within our bliss, the kind of love one collapses tired from joy,
    safely into my open arms.
i really wanted more, can and do see more, can and willing to be more,
    the one that we could be, could be more, all the while wishing
    and wondering what it could have been, what it was, and what we

                                            now stand apart from

i really want to reverse time, it is wrong to want stop, go back,
    and see that smile, that smile, i made on your face.
i really want go back make the earth stand still
    regain what we had, and bring and exist again in legendary beginnings.

i really miss the moments, the hours, and the movies that we watched,
    discussed, and dissected -
i really miss the possibilities, the hopes for us, and for yours,
    and for our love to grow, cut short in this silence.

i really stood, straight, and honest, and completely pure
    with my hopes for us,
i really stood below the bean and knew then, that i was,
    open armed, waiting, willing, and wanting.

i really love her, the great love i never thought i would- 
    could see again, despite those efforts of others,
    the others that need to enrich their own souls.
i really love her, this great love that exists so rarely, and so purely,
    so completely through my soul, body, and mind.
    
i really write this to tell that tell here,
    for all must know of all the things we are, we were,
    what we could still be - like a howling cry into night,
    
                                            the dark, the abyss of the ether.

i really write this because i must, i can, and i will try and save
    the second great love, a love that i wish, wished, and want for her,
    to have, to hold, to exist within, only to finally collapse from joy
    into my arms - leaving the fear, the fright...

for i really love her... 

                                            - klaus andrews

POEM: with all... that surrouds...

This one is about some of the normal fristrations within life.

with all... that surrounds us.
--------------------------------
(11 Sep 2008)

i must say, i have seen things written on walls before,
know what steps are made by the machines in every cog,
seeing the random moments form into inevitable moments, that cascade...
before us, stands a monster blocking the path of least resistance.

i must live, sometimes within this form to make the thoughts pass,
hearing exactly the things i bring to pass, always with the best intent,
wondering what shall run, and crash, into the random forms,
     life needs to be -
seemingly after, it seems to chase as running around the paths, goes on...

i must breath, breath in the poisons we all must endure, yet...
questioning the path that things seem to be, and flowing around me,
tasting the air, as i breath in the poisons in the spirits among me,
directly within me, as they wonder if i hear them... or if i will let them live.

i am and will be here to create the great works of life... 
yet, smelling the fear that kills minds of thought, thoughts...
answering the questions still left to ask, and still willing to see,
all directly around me, as the everpresent wondering this world

is the search for one, one-ness... with all... that surrounds us.

                          - klaus andrews

POEM: i have been drinking water all day...

This one is about a girl... hate when i write these because they become cliché so easily, but this is just what came out.

i have been drinking water all day...
--------------------------------
(23 Jun 2008)

you knocked all the lights out,
and stood their wishing it was different...

it isn't, will not be, and as we wallow in this world,
we created, we, not you, not me, but we.

i am not alone nor act in it alone,
i created, i, not us, not you, but me.

you are not alone nor act alone,
you have an effect, on you, not me, but you.

we act in a world we live in together,
we created, not just you or i, an affect on what is.

you act as though it is all that is and matters,
not just me, not just you, and never us.

and all i seek is the light was left on,
out in the front, the blue one... the one you never see.

                          - klaus andrews

POEM: spread wide open...

spread wide open...
--------------------------------
(13 Apr 2008)

... standing here, and had been there...
yet fear seemed to grow in others eyes.

out of nowhere, and dismissive.
wish i understood its source.

hate is simple... and base.
fear is the killer, killer of growth.

                          - klaus andrews