Blank Stare

Inks and Verses

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Blank Stare

I cannot paint you, my love.
Your calm eyes clashed with the storm in your heart.
Thoughts wrapped alone in the cold, followed the scene
I created; the essence is lost as memories came crashing into
the walls of brown earth and hot kisses going up in smoke.

The colors are smeared, the canvas remained blank and my eyes burnt.

Her passing
shook the foundations of the

people who knew her, albeit briefly

for she was special and always on the sunny side.

Her outstretched arms can still be seen from the mist

of ones memory as the mourners stood there, silently,

forlornly on the muddy Earth still in awe of the things that

she did on her final days unmindful of the scathing rain and

the contemptuous flashes of the angry lightning and the constant

roaring of the fuming thunder from the gloomy sky above. The hurt

turned into bliss when we saw her beautiful face looking down from her

haven in heaven as if to reassure us, her bosom friends that her heart was
finally tamed and now at home and completely at peace with her own wild self.

The daffodils gave in to summers harkening
As the mischievous fragrance of hers emanated
From the memorys dying embers

I was breathless for a moment while standing in front of the
Mysterious gate where once upon a time it was
Silhouetted by the golden shadow of her lovely face

Green lights twinkling in the dark evening sky
A reminder of her misty exuberance somewhere in the past

A distant echo of voices trailing from the empty halls of my heart.

The unannounced rain brought about by the tropical storm

one late Sunday evening drenched the soft white cotton that draped her skin

Like a song that echoes in the night, seductively lifting the weary spirit

Spilling the last cup of ones sanity into a misty flight

In between long strokes amid the sudden burst of unexplained emotions,

the stripped bamboos rhythmic dance of passion clouded my perception

Like the waves that roll in billows before crashing into the shore

my somber spirit rose and spiraled into the unknown

Behind the dark clouds, the masks and the rains of a gray November

I find my sweaty body healed, washed with the sacred water that flowed

from the gleaming lake in the secret garden within.

In solitude

I found a long-sought

Soft self-comforting freedom

A heart-rousing understanding

Governed not by the common reason

But by untamed emotions

A welcome change from all the things

That survived my nondescript existence

A weary souls moment of happiness

I never felt alone,

When I am alone

In solitude

I was cursed once
by a wicked witch that came from nowhere
while my mind was lost elsewhere
I fell into a deathtrap and could not get out.

I used to walk around wounded in my heart
the road I traveled were filled with thorns
that pricked my gaunt skin and brittle bones

I was helpless and suffered terribly.

Day in and day out
the haunting images of dark forces
swirled inside my crazy head
mocking and taunting the last straws of
my weary spirit to give up

Then you came and claimed my freedom
your laughter buoyed my spirits high
you embraced me, moved me, soothed me
and showed me who is the master of my destiny

Now, I am alone again
and yet I am not afraid anymore
with the knowledge that you are always there
watching to guide my fragile soul.

Her misty blue eyes caressed my inner senses
And belied the façade that I built for years

The hale breast heaved and moved in great anticipation,
That ruffled my hearts last ounce of futile struggle.

She read quiet well my emotional outbursts.

Amidst the warmth of the ancient Persian carpet,
We imbibed the beauty of love in our cup.

We always find ourselves in the dark room of endless misery-

The dreams that we used to follow were nothing but illusions-

Its best imagining things the way that it should be-

But in this wild weird world, success is nothing but a travesty of everything

That is nice and beautiful

In moments where our minds are sometimes made of rusting decay-

and our souls are just prisoners of our dull existence-

In our endless and elusive quest for peace and contentment-

We know that-

Deep within the inner recesses of our soul where evil reigns supreme

We still retain the memory of the beauty of the human heart.

I was roused from a sorry slumber
by the fall of the raindrop
that touches my face from above.

I opened my eyes and saw
the darkness and clouds enfolded
like a steel door shielding me from seeing the light.

Bereaved shadows whispered in my ears
and reinforced the apathy building within

I closed my eyes for the night
and soared into a mindless flight

Afraid that I would lose my feathers
and fall asleep in the dark

But the raindrops nourished my soul back to life.

Bill Mitsuru T. Shimizu