Tried And Lost, Lived And Died Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

There is something in the picture

Of your porcelain and sequins

That makes me whimper,

Everytime my eyes rest upon

The mirage within the borderless frames

Your smile –

Your two front teeth protruding

Everytime you walk with each step

Worth a dime,

I remember this clearly.

-

There is something in the aloofness

Of the Sun every time I think about you –

You remind me of rainy days of glum,

And the bland, windless nights

That makes me swim in pools of sweat

As I lay on my bed at night

With the gas lamp, with each breath,

Lighting the room eagerly with subtle streaks

Of iridescence, of decadence

This happens every time, with or without you

-

My faith quavers by the mere, ambiguous vision

Of another smile in another picture

Another acquaintance in the distant future –

All of this, inevitably, perhaps likened to violence

I will always have it in the palm of my hand,

With simian creases that would remind me

That I am human, and with pain, I am alive

With each broken promise, I shall thrive

Like a shadow in the portions of the world deprived

Of one, kind speck of light

Where do we go, the torn, the jaded, the forlorn?

-

This happens, as I sit at the edge of the arms of the clock,

I happen find, among the vast carnival of lost men,

One man, a tatterdemalion soul, pretty much like me

Soul sundered, faltering faith, abrupt abandonment, reckless, imprudent

Lurching upon the sidewalks with a cigarette dividing

Pale, dark lips that used to be gossamer and red

I find it in him, that we are alone

Bleak, drenched with the filth of unreasonable departure

Enrapture us, though hope is lost,

Please enrapture us, dear Lord if you are listening

Dear lover, if your heart is open,

Dear friend, if your ears are willing

Engage in a conversation of people

Who lost in trying,

And died whilst living.