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I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d draw a bit…

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“Illuminated Feather #2” – painting by Enrique Martinez

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“Closed” – Enrique Martinez

Merely a memory.
All that remains
Is a whisper of whom you were;
A vague shadow
Of whom I believed you to be.
Mine eyes, forced open by the truth,
witness the betrayal and deception.
One last, best hope to believe
Has proven not to be so.
And thus the door is,
Once again and forever more,
Closed.
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“Sunrise” – poem and paintings by Enrique Martinez

Slumber fails.
The abstract visions wane,
Slowly retreating
To the deep, misty recesses
Of my subconscious
From whence they were conceived.
The shroud lifts,
And reality is revealed.
The reality is this:
The silence persists,
And the weights remain.
A lack of discourse
And growing uncertainty
Feed my unsettled soul.
The sheltering darkness
Hides the expressions
Born from a heart
Betrayed and bound
By its own undoing.
Against these chains I strain.
Marshaling.
Summoning.
Finally, standing;
Face to the sunrise,
Its radiance peering
Over the horizon
In velvet ribbons.
The darkness submits.
But the silence and weights endure.
Only now,
In these early hours,
They are joined by another:

Hope.

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“An Evil Without Peer” – Enrique Martinez

Unabashed, and unabated,
This love courses through my veins,
Overflowing in torrents.
As a river carving through rock,
It forever changes the landscape of my being.
Memories of those gone before,
Urge action lest I be engulfed by regret.
And so I persist,
Tenaciously striving after
The one for whom I am longing.
Relentless confessions
Bearing both self and soul
As never before.
Professing affection.
Predicating passion.
Proclaiming devotion.
All the while,
I am blissfully oblivious
To the damage being done;
To the damage already done:
A friendship torn asunder
In the name of desire.

Then, the dawn.

The sudden moment of clarity,
The terrible realization
That I am not bringing her joy.
Not filling her heart
With the happiness she so richly deserves.
Not giving her the comfort she sorely needs.
Instead, I am causing only sadness.
I am bringing only sorrow.
I am inflicting great pain.
I have become an evil without peer,
Slowly, arduously destroying whom I most adored.
The cognizance of this unintended consequence
Is a knife in my chest,
Twisting,
Coiling,
Burying itself ever deeper.
Yet, this bitter agony
Is not enough to repay the debt
Of the torture I have wrought.
It pales in comparison,
This torment,
And could not have been more cruel,
More sadistic,
Had it been done in malice.
So I search for some way,
Any way,
To ask forgiveness.
But the words do not come.
Even if they did,
They would still fail to bring absolution.

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“Sonar” – poem and painting by Enrique Martinez

Silence.
One thousand miles of emptiness,
And silence.
Only the slow, plaintive beat of a heart.
Exhausted, and vanquished,
The monotone pulse
Reaches into the abyss.

Gazing into the night sky,
There are no stars.
No celestial brotherhood
To grant audience,
Nor comfort.
Only the void.
A reflection of that which dwells within.

So, on it drones.
Its lethargic beat
Unable to relent.
Again, and again,
It is cast unto the breach.
In spite of going unheard.
Never to be acknowledged.
Never to be returned.

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“Unworthy” – Enrique Martinez

Words spoken in viridian tones.
Cascading.
Consuming.
Nourishing both soul and ego.
A flicker.
A glimmer.
A stirring from deep within.
The familiar ebb and flow
From that which is ideal,
To that which is desired.

This divine torture
Is not sought,
For its outcome is predictable;
In spite of the chanting masses,
Whose chorus of the sublime
Is insistent.
Confident.
But misguided.

To resist would be pure folly.
Her modest, unassuming countenance;
A presence rivaling the beauty
Of a late evening sky,
And equally as ever-changing.
For what dwells deep within,
While genuine and true,
Is more faceted
Than the most precious of gems.

A treasure far beyond value.
Held for one, brief, glorious moment;
A moment forever scribed upon the heart,
Only to be relinquished;
Relegated to existing only as a memory.
A cherished memory, to be certain.
But, a memory nonetheless.
For in the end,
It all culminates in this:

I am unworthy.

There is no malice.
No spiteful intent.
This unintentional slight
Is simply circumstance made evident.
Metaphorical nemeses too numerous.
A chasm too vast.
All serving as a convenient and kind rationalization.
Helping me save face;
To retain some semblance of dignity.

Whether unable or unwilling,
It matters not.
The light of truth has shown
What the heart can not,
Will not see.
It is not a love shared.
It will never be a love returned.
It, quite simply, will never be.

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“Lesson Learned” – Enrique Martinez

A heart lain bare.
Arms outstretched.
Reaching. Searching. Longing.
Prostrate before the vast, and vapid void.
That which is desired,
So distant; so unrequiting.
Even should the prize be near,
It would still be well beyond grasp.
Guarded. Cloaked. Defended.
Protected from what it itself
Wants. Needs. Desires.
Selfish. Selfless.
Hurtful. Loving.
Despicable. Beautiful.
Capable of majestic illumination;
Infinite, heavenly bliss.
Cognitive turmoil.
Obliterator of the soul.
Causing an agony defying measure.
A vessel crafted of pain,
Etched with scars.
Bereft.
Alone.
Unfulfilled.

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“Futility” – Enrique Martinez

Cunning contradiction;
Protesting with conviction, and purity of voice.
Convincing all.
Fooling none.
A tapestry woven taught,
Its threads frayed and strained;
Threatening to collapse upon itself.
Emboldened by denial, delusion, and despair.
Set aside for a fleeting moment,
Giving way to hope;
A glimmer of possibility;
A tranquil spring brought forth
from depths long forgotten,
Only to be reminded
Why it was hidden so long ago.
Tragic, familiar remembrances
Of loves gone awry,
Hindering any progress.
Forcing solitude.
Proving futility.

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“Her Pain” – painting and poem by Enrique Martinez

Obvious, yet unseen;
Layer upon layer of turmoil.
Churning.
Twisting.
Lurching.
Straining to break free.
To find some semblance of solace.
To be allowed to ring loud and true,
And find that peace
Which lay just beyond reach.
One moment, her lover;
The next, her enemy.
Tearing her asunder.
Brought to the depths
By that which she most craved.
Cruel, comic irony:
Her thirst for pain went unquenched,
Causing great pain.
Unspeakable pain.
A pain she did not desire.
And so she continued,
Mask firmly in place,
Seeking that which had already found her.
Each day an exercise in self-denial.
Denying herself joy.
Denying herself bliss.
Denying… herself.
Yearning to be made whole,
Yet accepting – for now –
It is not to be.

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“Longing To Return” – Enrique Martinez

Keeper of life,
Dwelling place of the soul,
Supplier of both rhythm and rhyme.
Capable of magnificent feats,
Joyous celebration,
And masterful creation.
Able to display
Both astonishing power,
And breathtaking passion.
Forged by trial upon trial.
Hardened against anyone, or anything,
Deign to stand against it.
Resolute.
Stalwart.
Unwavering.

So easily torn asunder.

Having met its match,
No – its better,
Vulnerabilities are ushered forth.
Vulnerabilities, until now, denied.
Vulnerabilities, until now, ignored.
Emotion is disallowed
From this point hence,
For fear of further annihilation.
But no retribution is sought.
No reckoning, no reward.
Not so much as a glimmer
Of desire for reprisal.
Simply a longing to return.
To return to the bliss
Of ignorance once known;
To return to a time
Before knowledge caused such dismay.
To return to the bond
Once treasured, and cherished, in silence.