Chasing The Sun

Though you truly know me not
so these feelings i have fought
but you became my brightest light
one smile from you, sets me aflight

It began with you
I swear, it’s true
and soon you will be told
when I feel I can be bold
and tell you

So now here I come
I feel I’m chasing the sun
My love of life has just begun
I’d like to share with you

Thoughts of you,  hottest at night
burns me in my dreams
singes at my seams
this lovers blight , this lovers flight
of fancy

but when you dream by day
your eyes see clearly
not drugged by the night
sanity hath touch my heart dearly
like you

If i could, id extend the day
to get you to stay
and fill my world
as endless hours with you

My heart is in my throat
so this poem , for you I wrote
My breath you stole away
I long for just one day
with you

Tis true , it’s you , that I adore
and I will shout it evermore
For you are truly my brightest light
And I will no longer hold back, in fright

By Kevin Beary

These little slices – have made me weak

Steal away , run away with me
We don’t need to wait for the light
Quick , before we change our minds

We have this night , this moment in time
Lets make a memory
That won’t get stale in the retelling

My protections are imaginary
Cut me deep , make me mortal
Do it quickly ‘fore I lose my nerve

Save me now, for this moment
I am yours if you catch me right here
We can live our lives in these small moments

The sun is coming up
Rising too quickly – shearing the shadows
Where I bared my soul

Love sets you free ?

I’ve been walking alone
for five long years
Always looking back
at my path of tears

They say it sets you free,
but not for me
Its hand on my neck-
pushed under the sea

Take just one taste
Just one bitter swallow
Thats’all it takes;
to the bottom I follow

One day I’ll wake up;
Its time to move on
Some day i’ll make up
the time that has gone

I am done with this journey to nowhere
To a new place of peace , I must go there
The world is filled with new  places to be
I am not stuck , if I aim to be free

By Kevin Beary 

Only Once did she Say Goodbye

I`ve Heard you cry but have never seen the tears
I`ve watched you Lie
You lie so sweetly behind a smile

When I look into your eyes
I can see that you love me
But its just not the same
Its more like being friendly
I wish I could change
The way you feel about me

Say tonight , you`ll be mine
But anger and despair , you throw at me
Its not meant for me
Give it to whom it belongs ..Please
I`m just a child, hoping for your hand
Come back to me , your heads in the clouds
You don`t see clearly- As for me
I`ll just be here

I thought that I knew you
You`ve told me your wants and fears
You`ve said that you love me
But afraid to let me close
You don`t want me to go ….or Stay
I still don`t know you
Or just don`t understand

Shes my girl, shes my love
She just doesn`t know
Her moods swing my heart
Beating Rapidly
Dreaming Wildly
Its my head in the clouds
Looking down at her, the beauty on solid ground

  • By Kevin Beary – written 20th century 

I Mourn – A poetic collage

I mourn the memories in my head , I mourn the love that now is dead
I mourn for all the could have beens , I mourn all the unfulfilled dreams
I mourn my pillar that crumbled away , I mourn the words I didn’t say
I mourn the past that didn’t last , I mourn our tomorrow that won’t pass

There is no word strong enough to express my grief
There is no meter soft enough to provide relief
There is no rhyme clever enough to make you believe
There is no amount of words that aren’t too brief

I was always afraid to feel
Now I feel so acutely , I’m tearing apart with it.
I feel it in waves and it drowns me in its sorrow
My tears aren’t hot enough to express my grief
Should my skin boil and sear , I would feel relief

This sadness weighs me down
this mail of anguish sags my shoulders
Tennysons` crown of sorrow is no solace
Memories of joyous days only increases my misery

The warm flood of loving remembrances,
Those moments of ecstatic sharing’s ; There are no words tender enough to describe.
I mourn the time that passed away
Its in these mundane moments that we live and love

This is my final tribute , my last goodbye and I feel it so intensely
It makes all my perceived pains and woes of my past , so insignificant.
The small everyday trials , that once engrossed me
are swept aside like soft ash

My common sufferers !! We bond together !
There is no agent of joy that can bind so strongly. I call to you!
Love is as timeless as it is transient
and no ones grief is as great as ones own.
But we all love and we all grieve together.

The healing balm of time is an exhausting and tedious relief
yet time may eventually dull the edges of this sharp pain
But I do not long for complete comfort , it is this feeling that reminds me that I am alive.
I may weep and sob
I may wail and ache

But I Mourn and I Live !

By Kevin Beary –

Reprint from old blog Dec 2010

Take it Slow

Baby , We can take it slow
No need to rush you know
Don’t want to let you go
but I’m not ready to commit now

You know I’ve been hurt before
Don’t think I can love no more
what I need now , is a friend
til the end , and baby that’s you.

Someday maybe, your wish’ll come true &
I’ll be able to say I love you too
But now those words feel cold inside
from those words I try to hide
But if there’s a girl , and there’s very few
who could change my ways , it would be you

Please don’t take it personally
its not because of you ,but because of me
I need you girl , I cannot lie
but I just can’t be chained by your side

Didn’t try to lead you on
Didn’t want to hurt you
My feelings for you are strong
But not enough to please you

Baby we can take it slow
No need to rush , ya know
Don’t want to let you go
But I’m not ready to commit now

Just take me as I am now


THE girl.

I accompany her to the party…

I doubt I could describe her beauty better than my physical reaction to her presence. I radiate an excited , perspiring glow when around her. My nervous smile twitches back and forth from sheer joy to awkwardly apologetic. I can feel the blood boiling in my ears , and hope it isn’t running down my face for all to see. I find myself constantly maneuvering to find a reason to touch her. I brush her hand as I pass her a glass of wine , or give her a soft conspiratorial shoulder cupping while I agree to something she says. I also tease myself by guiding her – arm around her back but not touching – from room to room.

Though she is maybe 5 foot-nothing , I am quite frightened of her. Its more likely that I am so fearful of losing her favor in any way , that I tread carefully in all that I do in her presence. My congeniality to others increase tenfold as I attempt to match her angelic demeanor with a gregarious and open personality that I over-aggressively share with all. While we mingle , I find myself taking short quick breaths, as if anticipating a verbal competition that I must meet successfully.

When she enters a room , eyes turn… always. She coolly acts as if she is unaware. But when engaged , she is as warm as apple pie. She takes all compliments lightly but accepts them all the same. Her laugh always sounds sincere , and she turns all conversations back to the other participant. She then listens intently , her brightly intelligent eyes showing understanding and good will. When she tires of a conversation , she will end it with a touch of some kind , whether it be man or woman. Her disengagement is always full of beaming smiles from all parties. While she works the room , I blunder along behind her, in a feverish passion to be equally as wonderful. Her shine hides any of my mistakes or missteps, causing me to be treated similarly. I’m unused to such positive attention , but I do everything I can to act as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

When I picked her up , she was standing in her doorway swaying slightly with the breeze. She was looking up at the sky , or the trees , admiring nature. For a moment I stopped to take her all in………………………

‘ A simple sky-blue dress clings to her full hips and upturned breasts , whispering peace and plenty and pleasure. Her golden hair is mostly in an up-do , exposing her tender neck as a beautiful canvas for some long curls hanging promiscuously. She’s wearing light rope earrings that dangle from dainty and achingly kissable ears. Her heels curve her calves nicely, inviting your eyes to follow them up her body. Our eyes meet , hers deep and blue and full of mystery. She smiles at me , a full and sincere gorgeous smile , that causes one cute dimple to appear on her cheek.’

She is the most heart-breakingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.




The unpassable river rushes below a torched and decimated bridge
I see you on the opposite bank , moonlit , your beaming face smiles.
As my shadow points your new direction , you turn and walk away.
I yell and scream,  but the sound is whisked away downstream.
Hopping and flailing impotently , I helplessly beg for your attention.
A moment of crazed frenzy convinces me to jump into the rapids…..
The searing chill swiftly cures my mania. Scared sober,
I swim for all I’m worth , my arms and legs burning
This lactic acid bath invades my brain and soothes its will
The turbulence overtakes me and im drawn away to the unknown
A dead dove floats past me , its eyes black and empty
Drifting away , my purpose lost to the side I will not reach ,
I release myself to the numbing current and the deep black.
Soundlessly, I succumb , slipping beneath the waves silently.

Reprint from old blog

The Nightingale and the Lily

A pretty girl walks through the garden and hands a yellow rose to the young man sitting there, “I cannot accept this.  I no longer feel the same. I’m sorry. Goodbye.”  She turns and leaves the young man, who says not a word as his tears stain his cheeks.   A nightingale witnesses all this from her nest in the garden’s oldest oak tree.  She sings her most wistful song for the young man and his lost love.  “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” cries the nightingale.

“I wish I had never fallen in love!” cries the young man.  “I wish that I never allowed myself to get so close to someone as to feel so lost when without. Love is such a horrible disease and I wish to never catch it again.  I thought by now, months after our breakup, I’d either get her back or get over her and I’ve done neither.  These wounds never heal, they reopen with but a thought. I have taken Ovid’s cures for love and still remain afflicted.”

Dejectedly he throws the yellow rose into the grey stone fountain in the middle of the garden.   He paces back and forth, oblivious of the beauty of his surroundings on this fine sunny spring day. Located in back of an old vine shrouded cottage, and ringed by ancient leafy oaks, is a beautiful garden with a pond and fountain.  Grey and terracotta stone outline walkways amongst the yellow honeysuckle, fiery red rose bushes and lavender rhododendron.  Butterflies flit amongst the aster and milkweed.  Long grasses and overgrown wildflowers lean into his path.  Muttering to himself,  he trips over a protruding rock stair ,  he catches himself by splashing a foot into the water  …..agghhhh!…. “The mischief of love causes such strife in mankind; it renders us incapable of our worldly pursuits when so distracted, it clouds our judgments and causes such excessive highs and lows. If I was a shrink, and Love was sitting on my couch, I would declare its diagnosis to be bi-polar.  The incredible range of wild irrational emotions this affliction causes, demands intensive therapy and powerful medication, to treat and soothe the patient. “
He pulls his dripping pants leg and shoe from the pond and sloshes his way into the house, muttering, “What is this cruel and insidious love that enters you like a tidal wave and floods the parts of you that you used to find important? It creates new seas and islands; The incoming tides, rearrange the landscape of your mind, leaving you lost, disoriented, and gasping for air.”

“Oh, you poor young man.” exclaims the Nightingale. “What I sing of, he suffers–what is joy to me, to him is pain. Love is life’s greatest pleasure, yet it’s the cause of his deepest misery” The night passes, coolly unaware of the angst of the nightingale and the young man.  The morning sun rises, equally ignorant of this tragic episode.

The song of the nightingale wakes the young man from a dream.  “Oh, beautiful bird of song, I must tell you that I dreamt of my love last night; She ran to me across the garden and leapt into my arms, kissing and hugging me while grasping a red rose in her left hand.”   “Oh wondrous bird, what say you of this?”
“A red rose you must have ,  for we must win back your love.” sings the nightingale.  The young man, not understanding the birds’ vows, hears only the beautiful notes of the songbird’s trill.
He plops down upon the stone chair at the edge of the fountain.  Holding his head in his hands, “I cannot give up yet. I will find what was missing in our relationship and give it to her.  The yellow rose wasn’t enough, I must find a new gift for my love. I cannot bear the pain of her absence.  I cannot give up without a fight, just one last try.”  His tears break the silvery mirror of the pond, sending ripples that disturb the lilies but naught else. The young man looks up and wails his grief out loud to the nightingale, as if it was his beloved.  ” I missed you this morning and it reminded me the striking contrast of a day beginning with you and a day without.  I miss cuddling at the break of day.  I miss seeing life through your eyes.  Its just not the same ; Life’s vibrant colors dulls without you.  Your presence made everything okay.  I miss you immensely.”  The young man slouches, wraps himself with his arms and weeps the day away.

“Mutual love is the crown of all our bliss.  I long to provide that for him.  I will seek out the red rose he seeks.” cries the nightingale as she flies off,   “Love comes and stays my soaring flight while the wind cries my lovers name.” Flying above the trees, over the town and into the wood , the bird sees the pretty girl amongst friends frolicking in the field. ” These other girls are not like my love…. Like a lily among thorns, so is my true love among the young women.”, exclaims the nightingale, imagining it is she that is in love.

The nightingale flies through the wood throughout the night, gathering all the roses she could. Each time she grasps a rose and flies back to the garden to deposit it , its thorns prick her breast and the open wounds weep an ever-increasing amount of  blood due to her exertions.  Laying the last rose upon a stair near the pond – delirious , she lilts to and fro until she  collapses and sinks into the water , another casualty of love.

The young man awakes to see all the roses in his garden and he gathers them together and wraps them within a blanket of lily pads.  Admiring the fragrance of the roses, he muses  “I never realized the sweetness of our union when we were together. I never realized the depth of my love until she was gone. ” He scratches out a poem for her on scented paper and puts it inside the bouquet.

Love is
Our silly beaming smiles at eachother
Love is
The desire to make eachother happier
Love is
Shared experiences only appreciated by us
Love Is
Trembling hands as I profess it to to you.

He brings the flowers to her house and lays them in an urn by the door , He then waits for her in his garden ,  “Come back to me, who wait and watch for you”
He falls asleep.  The next day he awakes and finds the roses strewn about the garden and a note in his urn.  I am sorry , I miss you but ………………………..

The young man wails, “My heart is broken , yet again , but for the last time. It is true that the hottest love has the coldest end. One is better off not knowing its temperature and measure. Love just leads to misery ; Its an ancient force , no longer necessary for survival of the species. I cast it aside.  It causes unnecessary pain and I wish to be free of such , evermore.”  He marches angrily towards his former loves home to tell her thus.  As he turns the corner, he sees her , she is dancing for joy , holding a lotus flower , apparently a gift from a suitor.  The young man sadly turns and walks back home.  “That is what she wanted from me all along.  I should have known.  I was so blind.  She deserves happiness, I wish I was the one to provide her with what she needed, but alas , I am too late.”

Months go by, the young man’s grief diminishes bit by bit.  One day he sees a pretty lass walk past his garden.  He has seen her before.  He plucks a lily from his garden and chases after her , handing her the flower.  “How did you know?”, replies the lass.  “It is obvious what you needed, one only needs to look”

By Kevin Beary
First draft and rough outline
An emphatic nod to shakespeare , ovid , milton , wilde , firsova, tennyson, c.s lewis ,socrates and Solomon amongst many other sources , all unwitting accomplices , that provide me with influence , topic conversation , quotations , and some outright plagiarisms.

Lost in Lament


Its 2 in the morning and I’m dreaming of dreaming
I’m filled till I’m bursting , these words they come streaming
Thoughts only of you , From my mind they are screaming
And then the tears flow  , From my heart they are bleeding

If I had the power Id turn back  some time
And go to that moment when you were still mine
Id caress every sorrow and answer all prayers
Id take back the words that had made you so scared
Id undo the harm that caused you to question
Id unveil the mask that had hid my affections
Id look in your eyes and  steady your breathing
And tell you that I share,  all that your dreaming

I’d strengthen your back with my arms round your side
And hold you and tell you theres never reason to hide
Id talk with you quietly , while you tell me your fears
Id react only lovingly so to cause you no tears
Id carry you proudly when you need me there
and wait for you patiently  when you need some air
I’d adapt to all conflicts and fulfill all your needs
Id be all you wanted and exceed all your dreams

Its three in the morning and I’m ailing from wailing
My throat is so sore , from these feelings I’m airing
And my core is so raw , coz my armor , its failing
I’m lonely and scared , coz its me that I’m baring

I know its just fantasy , I know its all fake
I know that its over , we no longer share fates
But I’ve learned from our past , I see the mistakes
I know who I can be , and now know what it takes
I look to the future , and to new friendships there
Im ready and able to show how I care.

I do have the power , I can affect my own mind
And I will grow stronger , and better with time
I will  no longer hide , I will no longer fear
I can allow someone in , if they want to get near
I will miss you forever , theres no time that I won’t
But I’ll always remember , that its my choice to  hurt.

Its four in the morning , as I stare at the ceiling
I hope for some comfort , some respite from feeling
I am so close to numb now  , and I’m dreaming of being
a part of love again  , with someone new I’ll be seeing

Happy Mothers Day !

I want to wish an intimate Happy Mothers Day to all the moms who have touched my life. To my friends who are moms ; you are all beautiful. To my friends who are expecting and/or just gave life ; you will make wonderful mothers. To the moms of my friends, whom in my youth , smiled patiently at me , despite the conspiratorial corruption I engaged in with their children.  Today, I remember you.  To All my ex’es moms, who treated me motherly despite there skepticism ; I think of you today. To the moms no longer with us , who have touched my heart, I have not forgotten you. To the grand-moms,  mine and others in my life, who guided their children to properly raise children. This day is yours. To my mom , who did her best and it turned out alright. Happy Mothers Day , MOM.
I thank you all for the thankless tasks you have endured, and for the love you have shown me , despite having no guarantees of reciprocation. You are all wonderful women and I am blessed to have had you in my life.

Happy Mothers Day.

Contemplations of Love

Love is rarely boundless, hesitant reservations still exist in even the most requited relationships.  Permanence is not guaranteed.  Once all potential has diminished to an equal amount compared to ambition, then and only then are the boundaries broadened.  It’s this equilibrium whereupon the foundation of a selfless love can be built.  Prior, there is always a refusal to give oneself fully, even if this reluctance is unknown to the parties involved.

This platform I describe is rarely laid before middle age.     This lends itself as agreement to early philosophical belief that the young cannot know happiness. A full life of experience must first be realized.    One must have passed that moment in their life when the anxiety of ones insecure personal conviction to the relationship is relieved by final faithful acceptance and then cemented into permanence.

It must also coincide with the belief that their partner has reached this same state.  If these plateaus are not reached, the state of flux will always play a factor in the quality of personal happiness each shall experience.

Kevin Beary

My First Sonnet – First Draft

To Love so deeply, still , despite the end
To think that love once hesitant has grown
In strength and breadth , my broken heart has mend
What I feel I have lost was naught mine own

Your parting dimmed my day, the shadows stay
Upon your shore my waste is washed again
and cleansed unstained by your pure heart today
I come to you anew , your love , your friend

To walk along the waters edge with you
our hands enclasped we stroll lifes path entwined
my dream , is that only this wish was true
Without your hand I walk completely blind

I know this dream is just a dream of mine
I hope the paths we walk one day align