Dear Sylvia

Dear Sylvia, I think you might understand,
You even played their stupid ladder game.
Dear Sylvia, taking the darkest command,
Only in sorrow could you have a name.

I am not sure yet,
Instincts still too strong,
Better than I have been like rain falling,
When the cupboard is bare, who can say it’s wrong?

Dear Sylvia, they now put you in dark spotlights,
Maybe it is the only light we will ever know.
Dear Sylvia, they only have their needs in sight,
Is it the fool or the smart one who blows?

I can’t hear them anymore,
Mouths I knew bred many lies,
Here I sit, watching monsters win prizes,
No longer content to see it play out in my eyes.

Dear Sylvia, guess I’m writing to a ghost,
Because all around me have gone and died.
Dear Sylvia, sorry to call so very very late,
But I’m stuck between the insults of life and pride.
–Thomas Spychalski 

Mistress Loneliness

When I was younger I thought I knew loneliness,

ends up I didn’t know her at all.

Through all the wasted time,

fear fueled articulated grime,

I was only just starting to fall…

 

For Mistress Loneliness,

she stays by my side,

through all the stress,

and down the slide.

So Mistress Loneliness,

What can I do?

The world doesn’t love me,

but I sure love you.

 

Now that I’m older than when we met,

we can have our anniversary.

Still, I wanna break up,

want out, wanna take up,

cause your loves only a precursory,

to another lonely night…

 

With Mistress Loneliness,

she stays by my side,

through all the stress,

and down the slide.

So Mistress Loneliness,

What can I do?

The world doesn’t love me,

but I sure love you.

–Thomas Spychalski

 

 

 

Love & Cortisol

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Are you wearing your essentials today?

The things that kill us, make us pray?

If I could I’d get rid of you both.

 

Neither do me any good,

Neither work like they should,

No longer want this oath.

 

It’s not like you have not given me good feelings,

But the aftermath always leaves me reeling,

and I am so sick of the losing, the backhanded abusing, that I just want you gone.

 

Such a shame as your supposed to be one of the best things in life,

But never for me is that loving heaven of kinship, just a stab in the back with an another knife,

So you can pack your bags love, take the last train out of my town,

I don’t need it hanging on, bringing me down.

 

Yet still, I believe,

Still, I self-deceive,

Those things will improve,

Another lie I’ll regret when they drop the same old groove,

From these broken feelings, I should remove.

–Thomas Spychalski 

How Many Times?

How many times have I cried out in the city square, asking for guidance from those I tried to do in kind?

How many times have I wished for love since a child denied?

How many times did I see things that could heal, maybe for me on the inside of others I’m too bad to dig out?

How much more do I have to wish, how many days do I have to wait, just to be treated like I exist in the world like they do?

How many times do I have to pine away in silence just to be able to talk to someone?

How many times have I thought these thoughts, when all I want is to be free?

Because I’m starting to wonder how many more signs do I need before I finally get life holds no love for me?

–Thomas Spychalski

Paradox Lost

You’ve seen me write a lot of words, you heard the notes, the shine, the song like the birds.

You have seen my black heart pull yours from your wreckage, I try and hold you together despite all that spillage.

 

Sadly these things you’ve seen of me, gold dust in the misery,

Don’t give me an insight to the paradox,

Later still, sound of time bomb, ticking clocks,

And all because I do not know how to feel the sun.

A paradox lost, cold in this frost, we can see the Spring ahead but my god what is the cost?

Can I please feel the sun?

 

Standing here look back at the path of destruction, wondering if feasible, is re-construction?

Have the land to build, material abounds, but what is that dark thing in these hallowed grounds?

 

Sadly these things you’ve seen of me, gold dust in the misery,

Don’t give me an insight to the paradox,

Later still, sound of time bomb, ticking clocks,

And all because I do not know how to feel the sun.

A paradox lost, cold in this frost, we can see the Spring ahead but my god what is the cost?

Can I please feel the sun?

You here to be my saviors, why have we become enemies?

– Thomas Spychalski 

 

Breaking Spells

I break the logical positive, being one who has walked a path below.

Outside, people outcast me as a cloud full of rain, but they will need when the storm arrives.

Pain cascades through every bit of my existence, better I know what it feels like when the floods of your essence break thier banks, the only love I can give you understand or accept.

Hatred in mind because I despise my station as the field mouse hates being a blind catch for a hungry predator. 

Breaking the spells of this world you see shining because I’ve only seen the dull ache of time and entropy, and have yet to see anything bloom full.

Remember when the history proves it out, either way you remain happily oblvious and here I am, haunted by repeated experience, chomping at the bit that never gives.

-Thomas Spychalski 

Tonight.

Tonight the air feels stale, as I lay awake in bed.

Feeling quite alone still as one day melds into the next.

Rather tonight lasted forever, as tomorrow will only be another day in a long list of copies.

Tonight that day has yet to come, toiling in places we despise, arriving to a empty room after, but from here it has yet to happen.
Questions abound tonight about what is to be done, but the mind is uneasy and spoils the body as well.

Tonight we are unsure of what is dream and what is reality, tonight we ride on the dull razor of perpetual seduction of what is known.

It is never well to be shrouded in the night, never well to dread the approach of a new day, but this play has taken the stage before, sold out, standing room only.

-Thomas Spychalski 

Ghost World

Barren, empty days lead to endless lonely nights,

Most pray for riches, I pray just to belong.

Population overload, but still I do not know what makes me so transparent.

 

The ghost world I inhabit has nothing and no one for me, all of you like spirits who I can see but who cannot see me at all.

Haunting my own life, walking in endless patterns as I wait to be properly buried from my youthful death.

–Thomas Spychalski

Forgive, Forget, Forgive.

One day the mirror speaks, asks why we look so cold,

My only response: “Brother, this is getting old.”

Burn many bridges, make many amends,

Save your self-abuser, kill your friends.

 

Forgive, forget, forgive…

heart like a lion, mind like a sieve,

Forget, forgive, forget…

brilliance was forgotten, now just a threat.

I know none can trust me anymore, but they hold on still, want me to wake up, even if we never make up because even the coldest of stars hate to see another fall from the skies.

 

One night the wounds might speak, ask why can’t we heal?

My response: “But it’s you that spins this wheel.”

Act like we don’t see, turn you back on those to be,

Blessing the demons, shunning ‘Mother’ unapologetically.

 

Forgive, forget, forgive…

heart like a lion, mind like a sieve,

Forget, forgive, forget…

brilliance was forgotten, now just a threat.

I know none can trust me anymore, but they hold on still, want me to wake up, even if we never make up because even the coldest of stars hate to see another fall from the skies.

-Thomas Spychalski

Betrayal of the Rock.

This feeling used to disappear when I indulged you, even external minds have told me they like me so much better when we are one like this.

Now you betray me as the other feeling does not leave as I take you in, you’re the only love that stays by my side and damn you I need your kiss.

Intoxicating Toxic lovers, I know this is not right, mother forgive me but it’s true, this was the only thing ever to stay through the maddening night.

And you leave me now, like a weary partner at the door, baggage in hand, forcing me to live through the unrelenting weather beyond your cold embrace.

Unlike the others that have left me behind can you do me kindness as you exit and tell me now that the water no longer quenches the fire and smoke has been filtered out, with what now do I replace?

• Thomas Spychalski