Rain, Edward Thomas

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
on this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying tonight or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,
Either in pain or thus in sympathy
Helpless among the living and the dead
Like a cold water among broken reeds,
Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
Like me who have no love which this wild rain
Has not dissolved except the love of death,
If love it be for what is perfect and
Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.

at the bottom

the thing
with normal people is
that they are not
like me.

I like to know things they don't.

I know this
because when I
try to talk about things
that interest me
they all walk away.

they think I'm weird
and that's okay,
because I am.

I know why I'm like
this:
I
get
bored.

trivialities
and generalisms
are not my thing.

(apart from the fact
that I don't like doing
whatever it is conceived
as "normal")

I get bored easily
and they don't.
and that's amazing,
I envy them.

I try to be normal
I've tried this month
and I just got angrier
with the world.

I can't stay
in the surface
when I've seen
what lies at the bottom.

I'm sorry
and I hope you understand
my other side.

vaccum heart and smoke spirals

yes
the same lonely heart
lives on
only now through
parties
and promises of
love
of long lost friends
and chains of smoke.
I never stopped
feeling lonely,
after all
I already know who I am,
but the passing of time
will not change my mind
it can change my
hairstyle my clothes
my friends
but it will not change
who I am
the sadness in the night
still hunts me down
and I try to fight
but after all these years
I'm worn out
and maybe it's the promise
of a good time
which helps me
live on with
the sadness inside.

the pope and the booze

I was dressed as
donnie darko
and sat
down next to
a guy dressed
like the pope.
hed been drinking
and so had I.
but by the time I sat
by his side
you were getting
lucky by the pool
and I was sober.
the pope and I talked
about time travel
and someone I didn't know told me
there is no
such thing as
too much booze.
the pope left
and so did you
and your girl.
but I remained
here thinking
about
space
time travel
and chance.
I think I
know who you
are already.
the night
is your
worst enemy
and my best
friend.

black/white

can't you see
you're standing
in my light

the little reflectors
behind the
concrete walls
they caress me

I feel no heat
no solace
no contempt
when you
stand in front of them

can't you see
there's is no more
white light
for me