Brian Sonberg
Brian Sonberg Poems
She stands in hallways
Far from uneventful; unnoticed perhaps.
Rigid.
The world is her stage.
...
Below, the sea still breathes
Seagulls cry
But all is white
Veiled from pain
...
the lights from the bridge reflecting off the water where so far away
now my feet bleed...the bulbs bursting underfoot
I only ever wanted the pretty picture
someone to paint with
...
Lost at sea….hundreds of miles from where words could sting
Finding solitude only brings thoughts…memories
Words replaced …the sting of sea spray and absent skin
Memories of warmth and a smile that melts me
...
No one survives a kiss
From the snow queen
I struggle still to keep composure
To save my sanity
...
Steel me once again
with that sweaty stare
Prolong that something
that was never fair
...
Oh, the monotony!
Monotony only broken
By insobriety
Take your endless
...
In her mind she is an angel
She sits by mirrors
Paints herself a ghost
Breathes a sigh
...
What will my life be like
the one I left behind
the one that kept on going without me
will I be remembered
...
Submarine dreams
Sink like candlelight.
Sputtering wicks
Speak only in epiphanies.
...
Forgive me please, my friend
I hear your breaths draw short
But I must thank you again
It is necessary to take your life
...
Eyes surprise,
And pull at vanished strings.
Left, broken down to rot.
Your time here has expired,
...
It's never my intention
to be the one with eyes
who makes no lasting impression
who captures nothing but a gaze
...
We had dreams
in places we never knew
they could get stuck but
we rolled and played just the same.
...
Bountiful harvest
but the sickness doesn't care.
You were taken too soon;
The only two that mattered.
...
This night seems the same
and memories come
rushing like piano keys
tickled internally by some
...
What a perfect place for a puddle
On this dark and stormy night.
This town, new to me, is boastful....
Far too forward about being backward.
...
Another sleepless night in paradise.
In dreams, I chase mice,
Or rats...
Anything to soil this sterility.
...
The Best Poem Of Brian Sonberg
Tiny Dancer In The Hall
She stands in hallways
Far from uneventful; unnoticed perhaps.
Rigid.
The world is her stage.
She hears her own ballet
and twirls.
Dances like an angel.
Entranced.
But the world has her jaded.
She dreams of songbirds.
If she could sing,
her toes would not be so squared.
Her fans stare on, hoping for
a moment- sublime.
She stands, a study in realism.
Legs tremble...she will never
fit the part.
True hearts are true
but never a vision of perfection,
always somehow abrasive.
She pirouettes and
fabric flutters like time
or iridescent butterflies.
They are someone else's dreams.
Her dreams are here, in the spotlight...
Costumed and terrified.
She is unyielding,
arms stretched out like branches.
Her shadow flits and plays;
Arms sad and shy.
She is a weeping willow,
alone amongst her peers.
Sentinel amid the ridicule of
left behind playbills.
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5/9/2024 11:40:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
