Tag Archives: #writings

POST-STORM

WHAT of the man who adores
the baby breath of his child
and conjure ancient-spirit
to protect his broad
What of the man that love
the spouse who conflicts
the concept of enternal love
Who can say — without delay
truth or right – I’d be dismayed
what true love be in light of humanity
Hush my fellow human – say nothing!
Let the tides swell – believe me
the shores be clean post-storm
— this day

::12-26-2013::


HIDDEN EXPRESSION

My DEARLY loved one
there truely
are no words
that expression
god-smack love
that smittens
the best of us
to express
such feelings
that betray
our mask
of hidden
expression

My nature – so low
compared to Mother’s
love — what you need
I lack in my given
To believe that gulf
can be bridged —
is more than I know
but I try and so I do
in all I say and think
I always truely think of you
Let fire and ice
burn and freeze me
but never disbelieve
What my words
–that I try to express

To you love
love always
for you
— forever…

::{}::


TOUCH-SOFT DROPS

TENDERLY with touch
–soft drops
of loving tears
you speak to me
in ways words
cannot convey
soul-journey stare
into my eyes…
gingerly stirs
soup-passion
within the fire of my
hunger-lust despair
            ::-::


TASTE OF FEELINGS

I GIVE TO YOU my feelings
upon a silver platter
Which feeling you choose
to devour is up to you
but choose carefully
there are so many tasty bits
to savior and consume

;;–;;


AND WHO IS THAT CHILD

AND WHO is that child that runs
through the forest in day or night
and picks the flowers by your path
sometimes even within the rain
a shower — then rainbow he climbs upon
The gold never ends at the bottom
but lays on top — the world to see

And who is that child that cries
when the pain and suffering
does seep between the window pane
the world — our world — he feels
without his eyes but within his heart
and thoughts and colors bursting pain
the Council watches from other-there

The child of light and brighter days
The child of light and brighter ways
Come unto us child, and bring your kind

++()++


IMPERIAL GARDEN OF ABSTRACT THOUGHT

[AS a wish just to me
I choose to speak —
in abstract poem
so here I say
to you the brave…]

MOSTLY shiver in my veins
beneath coiled rivers
in steel-stained vanes
how could she ever know
broken records shattered
polyvinyl grooves within my soul
beat the skip in troves of love
catch the dove within it’s peace
twist the neck of lover’s pain
and whisper neatly blood-red stains

[My apologies if I gave confused
— in return I have to go
that Imperial garden
of abstract thought
so I leave — shattered soul]

:():


ON ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS

OH ME! The humble mute of stupidity
in my emotional turmoil I spew
senseless verbiage of love and toil
and common disease of social ill
But truthfully I say to you all
I am nothing more than a ghost
who walks amongst the beautiful
Forgive me, if you can I pray
for my arrogance and misplaced deeds
:::::


LOVE OR FEAR

A TIDE swells
like love or fear
— excavate an
emotional trench
like prophylactic
or shield
we place our heart
in that bastille
:::::


THE UNIVERSAL LIBRARY

I dreamed a dream more real than reality
and found myself in a universal library
towers of shelves and gossamer in the air

The binding of a book stories above
caught my eye and I begged to see
a ball of light provided safe flight

Together we ascended the storied columns
ages untold past my path too many to know
and at last I was eye to eye with this book

I asked the light if this was the book
to know and read to know it all
She said to read one was to read them all

So I read from front to back and in between
the mysteries of the universe unraveled
and I knew the story of the One and All

With this knowledge I can make wrong right
and cast away the blight of all human ill
the light said no, you will not remember

Still, I begged, a morsel of truth be taken
to my world to better society and cure ill
the light said each path must work the till

I woke this night with a startle and saw
the Book from this vision and begged to see
but the pages were all blank before me
— // —


DYING IN BED

The bed, a crime scene of sorts
a passion spilled in sweat
Willingly i go – to my death

He comes to me in the night
a sword sharpened by lust
and thrusts it into my soul

Mother, I’m ready to come home
but the line between pain & pleasure
is small compared to the pleasant death

The coroner will say an untimely passing
but my murderous lover knew the timing
each plunge of his knife ever deeper.
— // —