Semper Idem

The Lament, acrylic on canvas, painted by
yours truly on 30 October 2011

This is just a little poem/song (haven't decided yet whether or not I'll ever set it to music) that I composed last night before falling asleep. It's pretty relevant to a current situation, and is the title translates from the Latin phrase "Always the same." You know how I love working in those classical references whenever I can, and this particular use of "semper" (always) has a double edge of meaning that will be only apparent to some...and that I'm totally not going to explain, haha, so sorry. Additionally, to your left you will see my most recent painting, which I have titled The Lament. This painting was inspired by some recent emotions welling up and spilling over, in this case rather than cry a puddle on the floor of a broken stage like the angel depicted is doing, I chose to spill out my pent up frustration in a series of songs and, well, this painting. Hope you enjoy both. Let it never be said that I wasted negative energies. I much prefer the method of tapping into frustration, anger, hurt, and melancholy as a muse and eventual release. Without further ado, allow me to present "Semper Idem."

Your silence speaks

      a novel of rejection,

just another in a pattern,

     I seem doomed to repeat.

You claimed you thought

     that I am worth the effort;

now you can’t even bother

     to talk to me.

When I reach out to you

     and try to make things easy,

you can’t even meet me

     halfway.

And so our dance continues,

     a spiral to implosion,

and I can’t take your silence

     one more day.

Quit being cold. I know there’s warmth

     inside you somewhere.

     I saw the spark smoldering

          not so very long ago.

Quit being numb. I know that you

     can feel again.

     Just speak the words that have

          been weighing down your tongue.

You told me that you

     still think I’m pretty,

that you want to be with me,

     but you just need time.

If you meant it, then

     the timing wouldn’t matter;

It will never be convenient

     in an inconvenient life.

Quit being cold. I know there’s warmth

     inside you somewhere.

     I saw the spark smoldering

          not so very long ago.

Quit being numb. I know that you

     can feel again.

     Just speak the words that have

          been weighing down your tongue.

Quit being scared. I know that I am

     intimidating; I’ve been told

     that now at least

          a hundred times.

Quit being sad. I know I can make

     you smile again,

     crack that pretty grin

          and make you laugh.

But your silence speaks

     when your words will not,

and it’s telling me that I

     should just give up.

If you won’t see the pain

     your silence causes me,

then there’s no point in

     trying to hold on.