382. Insomniac


11pm, it’s late again.

Time to close your eyes.

No moon in sight to make it light,

Darkness descends and lies.

12am, two hours past ten.

Another day is gone.

You stare at nothing, yet everything,

While deciding which side to rest on.

1am, the hour when…

Your thoughts decide to party:

Dance and drink, and overthink…

Rage and disagree.

2am, you grab a pen,

To silence the noise inside;

Write it out, reread, and doubt…

Which words you should confide.

3am, you drop the pen,

Too tired to think clearly.

There are no words that aren’t cowards,

And cowardice costs dearly.

4am, near dawn again.

The world will soon awake,

And you will stare, lost in despair,

Of the sun you will forsake.

5am, You lie and then…

Fall down deeply into sleep.

Finally at rest, yes, you sleep best,

After you ponder and weep.

K. Aldaya, 1/16/17

Picture:  https://www.walldevil.com/13623-bokeh-books-empty-lights-manmade-night-notebook-pages-wind.html


329. Asphalt

[CooL GuY] {{a2zRG}}

I can’t think,…my brain is failing me.

What do you think? Am I at fault?

My body fails me,….I can’t move it right.

What would you think of me if I just lie on this asphalt?

It’s said control is illusory,

Yet losing control is insanity;

So what would you think if I lie here?

What would you think if I don’t disagree?

If I lie here and let it all go…

If I just stay here, and give up control?

Would it be crazy to stop fighting it?

Would it be crazy to accept no control?

I can’t think,…am I at fault?

Should I keep trying to control illusion,

Or should I just lie here,… on the asphalt?

K. Aldaya, 1/18/16

Picture: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FE-v0HVW-UY; https://www.pinterest.com/pin/343118065337589293/


275. Rest Your Head Upon My Shoulder


Rest your head upon my shoulder,

And I will rest there too.

I’m so tired of trying,

I’ve failed, and the past I can’t undo.

Rest upon my shoulder dear friend.

Your warmth and breath are mine;

In time woven together.

Forget the passing hours and be mine.

Rest now and be at peace my friend,

For time will make us pay.

For stealing what is not ours;

Oh yes, we will have to pay someday.

Rest down your head and do not think,

Of days which slip us by;

And let all cares float away,

As we dream under the fated-sky.

Rest your head upon my shoulder,

And I will rest there too.

My veins are parched and drying…

I’ve failed….and the past I can’t undo….

K. Aldaya, 8/11/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://thesavvysistah.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/sunday-morning-inspiration-lean-on-me.jpg

265. Random Thought #8


I cannot think of what to write,

So maybe I just shouldn’t.

I cannot be dark or bright;

My heart just isn’t in it.

I cannot think of what to write,

So here’s this pointless poem.

Can’t express what I see in sight,

Or write it in this tome…

(I just want to go home).

I cannot think of what to write.

I’ll close my eyes instead;

Wait for the dongs past the hours’ height,

To lift my sleepy-head…

(*yawn*)…I just want to go back to bed….

K. Aldaya, 3/20/14

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://xosarah.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/desk-sleep.png

263. The Sphere

Foggy and groggy.

The day is,

Unsure; a blur.

Will the light stir,

And wake me?


Laggy and saggy.

The mind is,

Weary; dreary…

Seconds:  leery,…

Of the time.

Sleepy and weepy.

The heart is,

Frigid, and hid,…

Inside, amid,…

The silence.

Broken; unspoken.

The soul is,

Hiding; residing,

In depths abiding,…

With the past.

Complex, the apex,

Of living is.

To thrive, alive,

Through death we strive,…

To find hope.

Detached and snatched.

The day is,

So near.  Not here.

Will it appear,

And wake me,..

From this frozen sphere,…of fear?

K. Aldaya, 3/6/14

Picture: By: Hiroko Matsubara: http://www.hirokomatsubara.com; http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/c2/29/77/c22977e4ecef54f85dd0aa1b6114bd4a.jpg

256. The Silence of the Birds


Here I am so lonely.

No one really cares.

I’m just out here surviving.

Why is it no one dares?

To talk to me, or know,

Who I am or long to be?

Or simply say hello,

When they walk on by me?

I’m tired of surviving,

Of doing the right things.

Of saying hello and smiling;

For me, no one does these things.

And yet, they are so simple;

I do them every day.

Though I doubt yet one would call to me,

If I were to walk away.

If I turned and walked,

Up the stairs some more.

And to the top emerged.

And loudly closed the door.

And walked slowly each step…

Tip-tap with the clock.

And softly closed my eyes.

Pondering the tick and tock.

And as the wind,

From the North,

A cold and icy thing,…

Blew, I would step forth,

—-No more to sing.

K. Aldaya, 1/19/14

Picture:  “Girl on the Edge” by Tom Ryaboi: http://www.tomryaboi.com/; http://camyx.com/exposure/2013/11/tom-ryaboi-atop-skyscrapers/

168. Complaints Are For Those With Nothing to Complain About


Don’t complain to me ’bout your life.

You have friends and family true.

Don’t tell me you are in such strife,

When so many care for you.

I have no one but myself.

My family and friends a-few.

Each only seem to think of their self.

A life so completely not like you!

I have no one. None at all,

To give strength to grasp the wall,

So I won’t perish in this fall….

Down a hole you wouldn’t fit through.

K. Aldaya, 9/23/05

Picture:  “Falling Down The Rabbit Hole” by Bradi Wells on flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/bradi/2797166439/

146. God of Man


You say aloud you love me,

But why spoken so easily?

When in but one brief moment,

You clearly do hate me,

As nothing’s given back quite as nice as you’ve lent.

Your love’s a constant danger,

What will you do for love?

I know…you’d take out all my bad shown.

Seen evident hither,

Where you stake your cross-branding e’er ceaseless atone.

All-knowing. Malevolent.

You’ve placed your throne of judgment high,

For God’s commands to enforce.

Now aren’t you God ill-bent?

To play God o’er all you choose to love as sins’-source?

But O’ self appointed God,

I don’t care anymore. I’m tired.

Do what you want.  I give up.

I can’t e’er fear to trod!

Kill sin-flesh if you must.

Pass ’round my bloody cup.

Spread the cup to every mouth,

So they can speak too of my sins,

But remember this, King of Kings,

When blood-drips from your mouth,

A God of heaven may be listening,

And bears spotless, white wings.

K. Aldaya, 6/12/05

Picture:  “I Give Up” by VhPhoto on Deviant Art; http://vhphoto.deviantart.com/art/I-give-up-206763483

143. The Antique Book

Same old story floats through time,

Repetitively drawn-out in your arms,

Tired. Tired. Tired.

Over and over further deepened harms.

Alone again in moment dire.


Embrace the pages refined,

Which tell of what the touch can bring,

Tired. Tired. Tired.

Of the romanced deaths of Spring.

Alone again in moment dire.

Dwelling. Moving…but only tired,

Is this story of love made dire,

From seasons’ words….fading: tired….

Of the rusted pages.

K. Aldaya, 5/28/05

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://api.ning.com/files/E4wkf04BIyka09WytqTDdQRa27rafSq-NMCrMDgpCxXURC55GGYtrU53Z3aOpWKKJmUnlRjBeQSfNU7GQ95lzb7GTUkEEBlH/GothicBook.jpg?width=413&height=341

66. Tonight



All the world rests their heads.

Lying down in their known beds.

Every soul yawns a yawn,

To last until the breaking dawn.

Every eye is shutting tight,

Speaking to the moon goodnight.

All the troubles of their day,

Are floating off,

Are miles away.

Tonight, thoughts are replaced with dreams,

Where happiness passionately beams.

K. Aldaya, 7/20/04

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://www.goodwp.com/large/201210/25187.jpg

31. Tired


I’m so tired.

Tired of being sad.

Tired of being mad.

Tired of crying.

Tired of trying.

Tired of thinking, feeling, and understanding.

I wish I were happy, joyful, and lively, but tired is all I am.

I’m just so tired.

Please…please…someone make this end!

I can’t take this anymore,…this life.

I feel empty and tired.

Just so very, very tired.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/02

Picture/GIF: from The Ring; https://38.media.tumblr.com/82b3053a9acf7f17ece7e68b9cf1dab3/tumblr_n08tallXtO1ra9vqfo1_500.gif