Standing upon the shore of memories
I feel lost as the waves roll towards me
swirling sand and seas embrace my feet
touching this forlorn soul
and as the water recedes to its home
my memories of you and what was
sink towards oblivion
with the setting sun upon the horizon
a final flash of fire burns
to the darkness my memory goes

-TheElusiveScribe 01252017-


Pour Me a Drink

photo credit: rosemarywitchridge.wordpress.com

Will you pour me a drink, dear?
That amber liquid will suffice.
I want a potent drink to dilute
the poisonous memories within.

This tongue longs for that bitter taste
that dull the senses with each sip
for the mind seeks the darkness
to still the raging torrent in me.

-©The Elusive Scribe 011415 –




photo credit:agnes-cecile.deviantart.com







Memories have taken root
insinuating even in dreams
constantly cutting open wounds
reliving the fears and tears
can’t fight back the tide
emotions raging nonstop
sought to find the cure in silence
yet the emptiness echoes well into the night

How to stop the sadness
the madness that seems to cling
within the very soul that tries to flee
images of you carved deeply within?

Bombarded with familiar words
whispered with your voice
dripping with intoxicating sweetness
but tasted bitter as they cling to lips
that once drank from innocent dreams.

Tried to stave off the flow
of memories that constantly haunt
every waking moment that comes
even with eyes pressed closed
there your shadow resides
fingers trailing paths for pain
to come and bring turmoil within.

Tried to scrub away the footprints
of an imagined love
yet their imprints remain unyielding
to scarred knees and shriveled hands
a remembrance worth unremembering.

-©The Elusive Scribe 032414-


It Was My Turn to Dig Again






it was my turn to dig again on the ground,
where we buried the secrets we chose to forget.
Covered now by decaying leaves of the watchful tree
that stood like a quiet sentinel that towered
over our sweat slicked bodies.

did we bury our secrets that deep?

it was my turn to dig again but all that i could see
were tattered remains of memories that fell apart,
as my fingers scraped them off this part of the earth
where we buried them with our promises and tears.
am i digging for something that no longer exists?
or did we bury what used to be us beyond our reach,
left to die a silent death with the worms feasting
on souls that are still trapped within beating chests?

-©The Elusive Scribe 030414-


Ballet Slippers

for a poetry writing challenge

for a poetry writing challenge









The light slowly creeps in from the broken window,
touching gently fading memories of music and you.
You used to wear these ballet slippers in the shadow,
emerging from the darkness all radiant in blue.
The sweetest notes were played on this piano old
as you closed your eyes and danced with abandon,
I watched enthralled in silence outside the cold
not daring to move, not even breathe, lest I cry for pardon
for breaking the magic that you weave with your feet
that you used to rob me of my senses and captivate my heart.
Yet everything is gone, you’re no longer here my sweet,
I was too late to tell you I’m ready to play my part.
To be the one you’ll only dance to as the music starts to play,
my eyes tracing your every movement like a lover’s caress,
but the table is covered in dust now, just like the words I want to say,
if only I didn’t abandon you, I wouldn’t be in distress,
that your world I used to covet has now gone and vanished,
leaving me with just a faint image of you and your forgotten ballet slippers.

-The Elusive Scribe 110413-


The Dreams Will Come Tonight

The dreams will come tonight like the rolling mist
and in the shadows that form half heartedly,
I shall dance to the slow song that your guitar sings.
With every strum of your fingers my feet will move
swaying hips to the rhythm that your music creates.
And by the light of the moon and the sigh of the stars
we will be making music out of our own desires,
with every sway of our bodies and the songs on our lips,
the fire within us will burn bright as day.
Eclipsing the brilliance of the moon and stars combined
we will melt with the searing heat that our love creates,
until we’re one in the world of dreams we’ve built,
in the halls of our memories where we seek each other out
holding tight lest our dreams fade away
and remind us that we are miles apart.

-eamarifosque 102313-


A Toast to the Broken Hearted

Here’s a toast to the broken hearted
you’ve loved and now know pain
yet you’re alive and that is something
for hearts that break can leave you bleeding
drain your life and leave you nothing
but memories that you want to go back to
time and time and time again
just to feel your lover’s hair,
their hands on yours,
and how they fit perfectly in your arms.

Here’s a toast to the kind of love you’ve given,
for you’ve shared some part of you
although you might think it’s not enough
you have loved and that should always be enough
for the one who loves you too.

Here’s a toast to the tears you’ve shed
you are human, you are real,
you are strong and you are brave,
your tears are innocent and precious,
and one day they’ll never flow
for you’ll find someone who’ll keep them at bay
and share the love you’re willing to give.

Here’s a toast to all the broken hearted
for you’ll survive the heartache
though it may take time to fully heal
still the wounds will patch up
though scars will be left behind
treat them as badges of courage
because you chose to live and love again.

-The Elusive Scribe 100413-



Will you look for me if I choose to disappear
from your life where I don’t belong?
Will you wonder where I went off to
when no one answers your call?
Will you worry about me like the way I do
when you disappear in silence like you often do?
Will you search for me if I don’t come back,
when all that’s left of me are just fading memories?
Will you love me then or not at all,
when you realize you’ve never made me yours at all?

-The Elusive Scribe 092413-


Patchwork Heart


Of all the treasures I could have seen,
I saw this patchwork heart among my things.
Although dusty and dirty it may be
the patches sewn are still tight at the seams.
I could not believe after all these years,
my work of art is still here with me.
Patches that come in brightly colored hues,
exact opposite of those times I was feeling blue,
are now sewn together to form the shape of a heart,
reminding me of my lovers that are long gone.
Leaving me their memories trapped inside,
as well as holes that mar my heart.
There was nothing for me to do as they depart,
except to patch my heart to stop the bleeding true
with patches of cloth cut from my lovers’ own,
covering these holes until my heart was whole once
And as I turn my patchwork heart around
I noticed a space in the middle of it all,
now I’m wondering whether I will be sewing a piece of you soon,
but one I hope I really don’t have to do anymore.

-eamarifosque 072413-


No Subtlety

There is no subtlety with the way
these words form in this jagged mind of mine.
They rage and roil and rush in torrents,
coalescing without coherence,
as I struggle to understand
what thoughts are trying to form
in this vast emptiness that they are trying to fill
with words freely flowing with uncertainty,
trying to capture the essence of it all.

The reasons why these words burn and blaze along
leaving trails of memories and forgotten images
of lost loves and present lover
held captive by these unspoken words swirling
in the inky blackness of this mind
that longs for the light.
And to finally unravel the right words from these lips
to tell you the true meaning of this feeling that I have,
the feeling that I call love and all the madness it
comes with it.

-The Elusive Scribe 070613-