Dorée, a little bit of gold upon the world
A sun ray amongst the clouds.
Even when Spring fell to Summer
And the sun moved further South
Did the light of the sun still reach
          This cold Northern Realm.
Sail on golden girl,
          I’ll be your bridge to Texas.
Yet even the sun fades for hours a day;
Without the sun slowly darkness claws
And the little bit of gilding you
          Wrought in my life faded.
Golden leaves in autumn now begin to fall;
The sun gone –
          Twilight began a year or so ago -
I awake to the gilding of you missing;
          Gone, taken by the wind.
Sail on golden girl,
          I can no longer follow.
Dorée, always a little bit of gold in my life:
A sunbeam across a dark sky,
          Left a little bit darker without you.
The places we shared will never be the same;
          Many are already gone or changed.
Could you hug me one last time
                    From heaven?
Forever golden, Dorée. Forever golden.

People ask why do I love them
And I ponder how to answer…

My love for thee is a tree:
I know not why I grow here.
I know only I found what I needed
For my roots to go deep,
My leaves to bolster in radiance;
I drink and am filled.

But not only for me do I grow
For now the deer have shade
And bark to muse during grassless winter
And homes for squirrels to run about.

Like Elves I am to
those small creatures:
Near timeless, near immortal,
Tall and Slender, ever reaching.

Yet I too must fall,
For I shall grow weary
Of stretching to the sky, and
Digging into the Depths of the Earth.

To the very earth that nurtured me
I bequeath my wealth
e’er morn someday I shall go hollow
When my love has fulfilled me whole.

So I say to thee
When she ask of me
Why I love her so
‘I am the tree
And she thee
Earth and Sun
That let me grow.’

My drought had been long
My thrist severe inside
The desert cold of my loneliness.

Such a pining I felt
And could not describe but
My need was easily understood.

I had a craving for contact
Of warm skin, conditioned hair,
Under the saftey of a comforter.

The Night's cold that chills
May speak of my need, but the
Wounds of my soul held the truth.

I could feel myself withering
In the cold desert of my feelings-
Such a death I wish on no one.

My rewaking arose with the cold
Sting of a blade, feeling warm
against my icy veins.

The blade made a flow of
words into my mind and
bid me to write them here.

Of such reminders I have few,
But I remember this feeling,
Which I asked to wait outside the door.

Upon Her entry I remembered why
I had avoided Her for so long,
Her cold gaze penetrating my heart.

It was not in my strength to
Fain a second defense against
The onslaught of her will.

She held me in her frigid embrace
And I thanked her for it,
For within it was a hint of what I longed.

I knew the blade was Hers,
And bid her again my gratitude,
For I knew this death would let me live.

It is almost morbidly humorous
That Loneliness can take care of
Those enslaved to her so well.

Clasping the wound from the blade
I walked out the Door, wishing to
Turn back and show my rejoice of my freedom.

There was little time however,
And I wished to say goodbye to a
Chosen few, and the journey was harsh.

The wind outside howled and snow
Bit at my face, much like those
I felt necessary to bid my adieu.

While I can scarcely recall
My meetings with both, I know
The burden was lessened by the visit.

The touch of a warm hand lingered
On my cheek, and the taste of a kiss
On my tongue were the only memories I left with.

At the Gateway to the
Relm of the Warm I looked back
quietly on the Land of the Lonely.

I know many despise that Queendom,
But I cultivated a fondness for it
Few can grow, and fewer can explain.

At 2AM I took a longing breath
Of the coldness that surrounded me
And with it I walked out the archway.

No matter how much the
Sun loves the Moon,
No matter how honestly,
   gently and genuine,
Half of the Moon shall always be
Hidden from the face of the Sun.

Some people say love is an open door
So when you left I closed the door
But I still hear the love behind the door
Even though the door is no longer there.

I’m afraid of this rationalization age
In which we understand so much about what the heart is
That we forget what the heart symbolizes-
For at that point man becomes more machine than man.

Where does the butterfly go
When all the flowers are gone?

From whence does he pull a draught
Of nectar to soothe his body and mind?

His wings falter at the cutting breeze
For ‘tis already the cusp of winter.

He no longer has the healing tonic
Of her blossom as night falls down

And so he succumbs to his fate
Laying down in the freezing dew

Dreaming of the days of spring-
Of the orchid bud he once knew.

If I had but one wish
I would want to take away
All of your doubts, your fears,
All of your anxiety and worry,
All of your hopelessness,
All of your pain and torment;
I would strip you of your insecurities
So you could walk this world
Naked, unashamed and proud
To be who you are. I would
Wish for you to be free from
The darkness in your mind
That haunts you during the day
And keeps you caged in insomnia
At night. I would wish for you to
Embrace your suffering, not so it
Controls you, but rather so you
Gain new wisdom from it. I wish
For you to keep the insight of suffering
While leaving the wounds and scars,
The anguish and agony, all the misery
Behind, so that you may feel the light
Of day even knowing the darkest of nights
Without even stars or moon to know
Where you are; so that you may feel the
Sunlight on your eyes and hair and skin
And not wish to retreat to the darkness you
Knew and took comfort in only out of
Fear of the stories of the sun being only
Legend, fairytale and myth. I want for you
To know the liberation from the self
That kept you in obscure twilight
So you can understand the freedom
Of the sun permeates even the night sky
With stars, comets, meteors and the moon
Even when they hide from you. I wish for you
To look to the sun when you have known
Only sorrow behind you; I wish for you to
Go about the day with the wisdom of the
Night- for the daygoers that know not of
The night lack the power to change the world.
I wish for you to find peace in yourself.

I keep my hair in a braid
For just like us that which seems
As an individual strand is part of a bundle
Which intertwines becoming the whole.

Lately I found myself
Amidst my covers
Yet unable to surrender
To peaceful slumber;

I kept feeling the urge
To create, to pass the time
Awake, working on art, lest
My nights be as vacuous as my days.

I became voracious in
My drawing, producing
A portfolio with only
Shades of graphite.

Still the next night
Would come, and
Again the mania would
Possess my thoughts.

So I began to delve
Into the sounds of my
Imagination, conceiving
Wondrous symphonies.

Yet still I found myself
In the sea of linens
Instead of losing myself
In the clouds of dreams.

Then lo! the answer came
Like water falling on rock:
I pined not for graphite on
Paper or song on staff

But rather I longed for
The flow of words
Cascading as water
From your lips

Which pooled into a
Pond of letters, dissolving
And reforming until they
Grew, becoming an

Aftergrowth of green foliage
Sprouting from the rushing
White and turquoise blue
Of your spoken word.

I miss my muse who
Made my imagination reap
The wealth of my thoughts
Into countless combinations of prose.

I miss my muse who's
Rune created a haven
In which my verse could
Flourish and abound from my pen.

We create an oasis out of
Our sounds and syllables-
A wellspring of stanzas and verse,
A fountain of prose and poetry-

As idealists and transcendentalists
We painted our reality out of
Our thoughts and dreams, our
Perceptions and realizations of nature;

Our meeting came like the
Creation of a dual galaxy:
Slowly forming in a
Passing cycle between two,

Our minds slowly spun
Together as two hearts of
Our own worlds, until
All at once the two were one.

Forging a new galaxy,
Simultaneously of you and me,
We created a breeding ground
Where your poetry met mine

Resulting in the accumulation
Of poems that shined against the
Vast emptiness of space as stars:
Tiny beacons amidst a sea of nihilism.

How could I sleep when I have
Entire galaxies to craft with
Words into poems, and poems into
Stars? I miss my muse of creation.

At that point my life was made-
Everything else could go wrong;
     The seas could rise,
     The ground could shatter
     And the sky could fall
But with you my life would be complete.

This is what I have found love to be.

The rain falls
Pulling petals
From the roses
In a steady stream
Of tears  

Shielding them
From the dying
Of autumn
In a merciful
Early death  

Granting them
Their eternal
Beauty before
The death of Winter
Takes hold  

So that the
Bush may again
Hold the beauty
And mortality
Of Love.

The Sun proudly gazed over His system, His kingdom,
A small golden jewel in a milky stripe of existence. With
Nobility he ruled, strong and constant, creating the heart of
His realm, peaceful and warm, home of hearth and plenty.

But even so the Sun had a weakness: a love, a fair maiden of silver.
His light smothered her beauty, and so every day the Sun
Died so that she might illuminate his kingdom as the lotus flower
Lights the murky and bleak waters from which it’s born.

The Moon, in all her silvery elegance, blushed at such a
Genuine compliment of affection as the Sun did again begin
His surrender to night for Her, letting her glow brightly
Amidst the dark cosmos, while He quietly admired her beauty.

Yet a small plebeian rock, denying all divine law, spun between the two lovers;
The Sun stared in bewilderment at the fading of His love, and the red
She shone took an ominous turn, and slowly the shade changed from
The rosy blush of shy affection to the deep dark blood red of fear.

Thus the Sun who died every night so that the Moon could shine
Lamented as She did disappear from His sight.
Alas that a mundane existence, a mere rock of mortality,
Should estrange such a cosmic union of lovers!

Such a tragedy! The audacity of a little trivial rock to
Apprehend the beauty of His love from Him! Such a
Crime against the laws of the cosmos this meaningless pebble
Committed surely out of its own jealous impermanence!

The Sun began to swell in His anger and anguish, threatening to
Sear the material terrestrial into a brilliant raging inferno.
Death! Destruction! Rage! A massive conflagration for this unremarkable
Secular dust-pile! A plague! A holocaust against this criminal!

But then, softly in fear, the Moon reappeared before Him,
Red, this time in the reflection of the Sun’s bitterness,
She stood as He gazed upon the mirror of his own passion-
His hate, love, fear, and rage- shone from her face.

Aghast at His own burning, The Sun suddenly felt the coldness, the
Emptiness of the macrocosm without his love, the Night
Without Her love, and thus His growing nova fled in relief
Of Her return as they danced again in the heavens of eternity.

It’s like, when
She’s gone,
My world
Suddenly
turns dark,
empty.

There
Abruptly
Isn’t a
Reason to
Stay up
Any longer.

Now there’s
No reason to
Make my bed
Without her
To keep
Me warm-

No reason
To prepare
For sleep
For I am
Already
Sleeping-

For without
Her
There is
No reason
To stay
Awake.

I think
       I could
Tell you
       That I
Love you,

But you
       Remind
Me of
       My ex
Slightly

So I
       Will wait
To say
        ‘I love
You’ when
        I know
‘You.’

Just a reminder:
You are beautiful
And not just for a
Single meaningless
       Night of lust
But beautiful that is
Worth a lifetime of
Nights of admiration
And love, so I could
Look upon the beauty
Of your face during
       Sleepless days
And look upon your
Gorgeous soul during
       Illuminant nights.

Is our friendship over?
If so that's okay. I know
people come and go
But I don't want to let
Something meant to be to
Leave when it's in my power
To change. If the door is closed
I can accept that and move on
But if the door is still open
And your hand is still on this side
I will gladly grab it and hold on.
Something pulls me to the door,
Some thought, some intuition,
That wants to see. Something that wants
To know if the door really is closed.
Something tells me it is not.
So here I am, at the door,
Looking for your hand.

May I kiss you?
Just for today
Just for an instant-
A moment-

Just for a day
May I kiss you?

May I kiss you?
In the rain
In the snow-
In the spring-

Just for a season
May I kiss you?

May I kiss you
Just for a moment
For alas I know
Not of the future

And even a kiss today
Is more than I can dream.

Is this
How we
End?
Does our
Relationship
Crumble
in the
Silence
of no
Words?

Do we
let our
Dyad
Breathe its
last breath
alone
in the
Night of
Unspoken
Thoughts?

Do we
Let our
special
Connection
Break apart
in a
Noiseless
Dirge?

Is this
How we
End?
No words-
Only the
Unspoken
Goodbyes
in the
Void of
Unshared
Thoughts
and wants?

Do we
Die
in the
Stillness of
Nothing
Spoken and
Dreams
Broken?

Is
This
How we
End?

She says I shouldn't love her;
She says she’s not real:
Just a pixie girl, a
Nymph of my dreams.

Indeed, I questioned her
Reality from the first day
And I finally decided believing
Was better than her not being.

She says I shouldn't love her
Because her job isn't the
Most respectable and I
Should find someone better

But one does not judge a book
By the cover, or how many
Fingerprints mark its glossy bindings,
But instead based on what’s inside.

Her appearance may have been
What first caught my eye, as the
Covers of books usually do,
But when I began reading

Page after page, I knew
I had fallen in love, truly
In love, with the content
Of the book called Bex Olivia.

I love you more than words can say;
My love for you is greater than the light of day.

I love you more than the darkest night;
You are the key to the stars so bright.

I love you more than the nightingales of spring;
You bring such a warmth that makes me sing.

I love you more than the sun in winter
For you make the cold less bitter.

When my world consists of only grey
You paint with all to the colours of May.

While I walk about my world without sight
There you are, guiding me with your light.

When I can only find the world blearing
There you are, making a clearing.

You are, in my life, my golden factor, for
You enrich my winter with Spring’s finest flower.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare at your picture
Until I forget that you are gone.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare at the clock
Until I lose track of time.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I stare into nothing, fooling
Myself into thinking I ever knew you.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I forget reality and
Think that you were just a dream.

Sometimes I miss you so much
That I fear losing a dream;
I miss you so much.

Should I say save me from myself or save me
    from you?
Because I’m the one that fell in love
    with you
But you are the reason that I fell in love-
    for you are you.

Perhaps I should say don’t save me at all, just
    catch me
For I have fallen in love with you, that
    is all.
To make me fall in love with you just be you, that’s all
    you have to do.

On second thought I can say both, for you saved me
    from myself
In a way no one else could, with your special self, for
    with you
I see such a beauty in a world of such despair, simply
    for you are you.

The colour of her lips were so deep
That I could not leave the room to sleep
For her beauty made my soul leap.

I could not forget her lovely eyes
Or say my goodbyes
For in her mind held all the skies.

Her laugh filled my heart
To the point I could not part
For she spoke the literary art.

Yet I no longer needed to sigh
For there, a clue, on her thigh
As an orchid did lie:

Just as the sun loves the moon
Again I shall have the ultimate boon
With the new day I could again enjoy her rune.

So as I bid my adieu
I pondered on the truth I now knew:
We will speak again after the morning dew.

During this day of certain events
I have found that even though
  most of the time
  I want to walk away in the night
There sometimes is a
  little part of me that
Still finds some unexplainable
love for the day
  even if I don't enjoy the sun.

A pain
Inside
That covers
The light,
Blinds it;
Fills
The room-
Suffocates it.
This isn’t just
Pain;
This is
Darkness,
Blackness.
This is
Death:
The very
Essence
Of the
End of
Life.
The lack of
Dreams, the
Absence of
Hope, the
Reality of
No tomorrow,
No way to
Be free:
This
Is
Death.
This
Is
*Depression.

I found the light
Holding my salvation
In the light of
Your lovely face.

I found the
Freedom from
Myself in your
Loving nature.

Because of you
I have found
The part of myself
Worth loving

And though we
Live on the
Other side
Of the sea

I know you shall
Forever
Hold my love
In your heart.

Soulmates share two pairs of arms
But what if one pair is wings
While the others are mere arms?

Soulmates share two pairs of legs
But what if one pair is fins
While the others are just legs?

Soulmates share two pairs of eyes
But what if one pair sees only metaphysical
While the other sees only physical?

Soulmates share two pairs of arms, legs and eyes
But what if the Soulmates no longer share;
What if they were no longer together

And the three pairs of two were split

So one had wings while one had arms
One had fins while one had legs
One saw metaphysical and the other saw physical?

Would one fly above the other that crawled?
Would one swim beneath the other that walked?
Would the metaphysical float by the physical unable to see?

But how could one fly without the other?
How could one swim without the other?
How could one see without the other?

How could Soulmates survive and not share;
How could Soulmates live without the other?

You are an Angel
Chained to Earth;

You can either
Cut off your wings

Or you can
Release yourself

From the shackles of
Mundane mortality.

I look up to the moon
With a sad smile on
And tell her I love her
Because I can
No longer tell you
That I love you.

I.
I love thee always;
Without doubt, with sadness, for
I love thee truly.

II.
Forever will I
Love thee, for you found my soul;
You are my soulmate.

III.
Tears are the essence
Of the soul; they speak plainly,
As words cannot do.

IV.
Words mean more to some
Than to others; ones that heard
Lies- or those poets.

V.
Words need not be said;
Just the look in your eyes says
Everything I need.

VI.
Words are not needed
But when lacking other means,
Please, I beg, take heed.

VII.
Forever is long-
But not long enough for us;
We are eternal.

VIII.
The rose never dies;
Though the blossom is short lived,
Eternally lives.

IX.
For life is sweetest
With you, due to tears and scars,
For I love you still.

X.
Our souls intertwine
And I found my completeness
For then our souls mate.

XI.
The language of love
Speaks silently through the heart:
Tears touch time and depth.

Take my love as a shield:
To protect you in times of strife
From the rages of war,
From the sands of time.

Take my love as a shield:
Bulwark of the ages,
Stalwart of the weak,
Aegis of support.

This shield does not break:
Unyielding fortification,
Knight of the rose,
Knight against night.

This shield does not shatter:
Impenetrable fortress,
Sight of safety,
Home of hearth and heart.

Take my love as a shield:
For you I live,
For you I protect,
For you I adore.

Take my love as a shield
For it’s all I can give.
It’s worth fighting for;
It’s worth dying for.

Even if I break and shatter,
My fortifications crumble
And my fortress is overcome
Take my love as a shield

To protect you from my night
For I am a weak knight;
I am at war with myself-
Take my love as a shield.

Tears Shed Alone,
Tears leaving my eyes
Without yours to blend
To become whole.

Tears shed alone
Are half filled
Vials of essence-
Incomplete tonic of my soul

Tears shed alone
Are escapees of my soul
Looking for the other half
Lost vials of my soul

Tears shed alone
Are tiny vials of my soul
Looking for their compliment
Looking for your eyes

I shed these tears alone
For you left me dry
So I soak myself in tears
Hoping at least they can find yours

In my minds eye
These tears I cry
Fly to your tears
In some time, some place, somehow;

Our tears still mingle
In the rain, in the air.
My tears evaporate and fly
Into the sky and fall into your eye.

Come not to my funeral:
I am dust now,
Conversing with worms.

Come not to my funeral:
One for me is not needed;
I am not so vain

As to ask dozens to gather
To weep for me,
To wear black for me.

Come not to my funeral:
I’m either very alone,
With many lost friends,

Or I no longer exist. So
Come not to my funeral
I am not so vain as to want

To hear kind words of me:
To hear soft sobs
And your final goodbyes.

Come not to my funeral;
(Honestly I may be a little vain
As I want to hear your kind words,

I wish to say my final goodbyes
And cry for my leaving too
As I miss those I left

But I’m more afraid of those
Who don’t weep for me,
Who don’t wear black for me.)

The old part of me is dead:
The part of me that loves you.

I put him to rest on a grassy hill
Where the butterflies flock to roses.

There he lies, under the tomb of a dead tree,
Steadily being feasted on by cankerworms.

He is silent, he is free,
For he has passed the door

Into a realm of calm tranquility
Where pain makes more sense

And reasons why are no longer needed
For he lives in the Kingdom of Night.

She rules there and invited him
With a kiss and a nibble on the ear.

He could not refuse her lovely black lips
But he knew not where to tread

So she shoved him down with words
Of ice and sorrow and blame.

There he lies with her through eternal night
Caught up in the death of his life:

Her, the one, the only, the Moon
That fought the Night.

That old part of me is dead now:
The part of me that loves you.

He is silent, he is sleeping,
For he has passed the door

But the ghost of myself
Still whispers his love for you

Ever more.

Everything is black and white:
No more hearts to fill in the colour,
No more roses to paint the land;
Just black and white without feeling.

Everything is black and white:
No more green on the trees,
No more blossoms floating in the breeze;
Just black and white without life.

Everything is black and white:
No more meaning, no more feeling,
No more life, no more colour;
Just black and white without a reason why.

Everything is black and white:
No more you to paint my face with a smile,
No more you to colour my life with feeling;
Just black and white without meaning.

I walk alone in black and white:
No longer with you, no longer with myself.
My world is so incomplete without you-
Nothing but black and white.

I saw a butterfly dead in the middle of spring
And I cried, for I saw the end of our relationship.

I saw the end of our relationship in the height of life
With lilacs in bloom of purple, her favorite colour.

The butterfly had drowned in dark waters of my heart-
For I was drowning- and I know she was too.

My heart was under dark waters, so I guess I couldn't tell her
How much she means to me, how much I care.

My mistake holding so much dark water inside for so long
As she had to drown in my dark water as well as her own to save me.

I know I was too weak to help her much in my own saving;
I’m sorry I was too weak to help her with her dark water.

She was so busy trying to save me that she wouldn't let me save her
From her own dark water, which she has drowned in longer than me.

Yet she wouldn't let me help as much as she helped me
For she has drowned much longer than me.

And to open up to me would be to open up to my dark waters sometimes
When she only wants to bring brighter days to my heart.

I always want to say how she brightens my day, with a smile, with a hug,
But under the weight of the dark water I guess I didn't say it enough.

Now I’m under new dark water, made of her tears I caused her to shed
And of the pain knowing she has brighter days of summer without me.

I hope some day that she can come back to me, after the pain has eased
And that we can tame the dark waters together.

Our tears touch-
They mingle
And smear together,
Becoming one;

Tiny vials of our soul-
In the form of tears,
Each half empty,
Until they meet as one.

Our lips kiss,
Sparks fly,
To and from, joining,
Becoming one.

Our souls leap
To meet each other,
To send sparks,
To announce the union.

Tears we cry,
Kisses we give,
All are glimpses
Of our souls,

Finally meeting ever so
Slowly but surely
They mingle
And caress.

Yours and mine,
That have searched
For each other
For all time.

Let the tears flow,
Let the kisses rain,
For you have found me
And I have found you.

For our tears mingle,
Our kisses send sparks;
They speak to the heart:
You and I are Soulmates.

I walk alone all the while
As the night seems idle.

Yet not alone I walk
For there the Moon is to talk.

In the darkness of sky
The Moon glows ever by.

By me, beside me all the while,
The Moon is never idle.

The Moon alone battles as a blaze
Of the dimly lit nighttime haze.

More noble then the Sun in its flight
Is the Moon against the night.

As the beauty battles boundless dark
I keep Her company to keep the spark.

In the night when I walk about
I am not alone while the Moon is out.

I am alone. In a Forest
That surrendered to Winter.
I am alone as only one can be
In a Forest of Twilight and Ice.

As one alone,
I ponder of my other:
Loss of myself,
Sunbeams through my Forest.

Alone, I wonder of my other.
A question comes to mind,
One I didn’t ever quite ask,
A question of life and love:

Do you ever feel numb?
Cold, as if you were in a Winter Storm?
By yourself, the snow swirling
Around you in slow, lazy circles…

Everything is distant.
Even the shiny shards of Ice
Do little to remind me that
I live to bleed of this life leaving

As I pondered,
My eyes failed me –
Eyes are not needed in a Forest,
Only the vision of the mind–

I wondered of my question;
I knew the answer already,
Though, you I knew, yet not,
At the time of our meeting.

You would save yourself,
Though the Rose would die,
You would survive,
Though the life in death would die.

I wandered of my question,
As my questions kept me moving
In the stagnant, yet turbulent,
Forest of Twilight and Ice.

I found that Rose
Under a dead tree of hope.
In the sunbeams it grew
As well as the silent shadows.

I think of that Rose,
Soft and Red and Beautiful,
To ease the icy edge of the
Dark, Frozen Forest around me.

But the Rose,
Seeded in the Forested Storm,
Shadowed and shaded by dead hope,
Was short lived in death.

So the Rose dies in death, as it lived,
Frost growing from the dark petals.
A tear falls from my eye
And freezes on my cheek.

Let this be heard:
I am a Romantic,
As many of you know.

Romanticism is One
Of the few ways
To make Life Beautiful.

But Sometimes,
In the confines of my room,
in the darkness of my fears,

I Dream of Loneliness;
I Dream of Solitude;
I Dream of Sadness.

Love is Beautiful, True,
As important to my existence
As air or water.

But Sometimes,
Beauty is Hollow
Without Tension, without Release.

Does not the Rose
Look more Beautiful
Alone in Snow and Ice?

Does not the Moon
Look more Beautiful
In the Darkness of the Night?

Does not the Heart
Look more Beautiful
Alone and Broken, Crying Silently?

Life and Love and Beauty
Are not enough
Without Sadness, Loneliness and Solitude.

The most Beautiful Music
Does not stay in Major key,
Happy and Bright,

But instead explores the depths
Of the Minor:
The Sad. The Lonely. The Pain.