We have favorite things, and we have favorite people.
Hardy is one of my favorite people. A good friend of my mind from since college days.
Work has taken his hands off from blogging now, but recently, I unearthed his scribbles from my old notes and shot him off a message to re-post everything.
I am looking for more from him to post here soon. He does hope to write again.
It is in my last breath that I say:
You are verve and delusion.
I can never see you.
But your spirit,
For my heart knows how potent that beating tells me.
As fearful as the Death Angel’s curse.
More toxic than the slayer of Romeo.
Unadulterated as Cupid’s arrow.
So as my mind,
Laid to what life would bring us;
But one thing’s for sure.
Now, I see the light of what I was born for.
No one else,
I was thinking.
Yet, I never sought to evoke.
He was there, almost there.
Walking towards my way,
How can I be alive?
If my blood is sapped every time I think of your promise.
I hold on, more vague than any dreamy place;
More vague and unusual.
But I see that I am in that place.
But even so I still breathe.
For one thing keeps me alive:
I’ll move on,
“Somewhere I’ve never traveled…
Gladly beyond any experience,
Your eyes have their silence…
In your most frail gesture of things which enclose me,
Or which I cannot touch,
Because they are too near…”
The First time I loved forever…
Was when you whispered my name,
And I knew at once you loved me,
For the mere of who I am…
The first time I loved forever…
I cast all else aside,
And I bid my heart to follow,
Be there no more need to hide…
And if wishes and dreams are merely,
For children, and,
If love’s a tale for fools…
I’ll live a dream with you…
If your wish be to close me,
I and my life will shut,
As when the heart of this flower imagines the snow,
For all my life and forever,
There’s a truth I will always know,
When my world divides and shatters,
Your love is where I go..
“…I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens,
Only something in me understands:
The voice of your eyes, is deeper than all roses,
Not even the rain,
Has such small hands…”
And to end this post, his favorite line from Moulin Rouge:
“The greatest thing that you’ll ever learn, is to love, and be loved in return.”
Read more: Musings of the Midnight Writer: Three Poems from Hardy Jacob
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