A resurgence of emotion, you are an ocean.
Wrath of the sea proves powerful over me,
And spits my seashell fragments ashore,
broken and soft.


Your force will hold no boat aloft,
Unforgiving waves push them away and I have nothing to say.
A thousand times you’ve crashed down on me, a thousand little pieces
have created this beach.

But like when the moon waxes and wanes
Or the storms roll in and it rains-
Your surge is anticipated, your receding so late
Leaves my sand fragments so jaded
I regret to say every tide I’ve awaited.

Writing with a hexed pen
Bewilderment, ink-blot, psychotic again
And once again,
One more time for good measure.
"It seems you've discovered a shipwreck,
won't be long until you find the treasure."
Buried deep within the ruins even air cannot penetrate
So however soon you dredge it up,
You've come just a moment too late.
Crash upon the surface empty handed
quite irate,
After all you were relying on that fortune to fill a plate
So now your belly's aching, rumbling, quaking
As the Earth before demolishing Man's crude play-things
The sound of ten-thousand mortars
simultaneously striking the sand.
Quick, lend a hand, or head, or ears.
There's nothing to fear here.
The company is pleasant.
As long as we stay below ground
with the dust-bunny symphony
Field mice play the pianette
Dare I neglect the cat faced composer?
Whose whiskers entrance, enticing stupor.
In the game of life there are only losers.
God gives to take, he laughs when you complain,
For he is the deliverer of Love and of Pain.

Know that one fractal of mine previous bind,
the pact of where free will lies
Tied between minds, hanging by a silver thread,
And severed in a moment of existential dread.
To have to watch it all would  be too great a burden for the human head.
To carry, so Mother groomed us clever
From faerie-dust tender care created a lever
In knowledge of Self-drenched to the core
Oh boy life can sure be a snore.
When all of your intents just lead to "I'm bored"
Go on now, with the leader of the fleet
he has ironed his pleats
Released his loved, his prized
The great farce, a fantasy of divide
Off to go catch the madman in his one last
one-last-act.
That retrieve is past.

1.
I made my way through thin, cigarette trees
as I searched for, and simultaneously, lost myself.
The foliage coated the ground in different shades of gold,
soft earth's natural armour against my violent feet.

2.
I whispered like smoke, from some conscious place,
"where are you,

                       where are you?"

3.
I found the moon in wavering waters,
resembling a pale dinner plate.
The stars, its companions,
the table on which it was set.

4.
I looked for recognition in the eyes of my reflection,
the face was that of another woman.
One that did not flinch like an exposed nerve;
One that knew she was more like a grains of sand at her feet,
than the gravity around her.

I folded my tired self into her stillness,
knowing that I controlled nothing, and
finally rested.

There was an odd shift in the air that morning when you called me so early.
I couldn't tell if it was sadness or defeat or even a slight twang of happiness in your soft voice.
And I couldn't quite make out the words you were saying as you spoke so fast and yet so dreamily.

I heard you say you were sorry. I heard you say you loved me. I heard you say it was time.
And then I heard the phone go silent.

I ran.
I ran through the ice and the winter breeze.
I walked.
I walked up the drive way into the open door.
I sat.
I sat down next to your already cold body.
And I cried.
I cried because "you" were me and I was gone... So what else could I do but cry?

Do you know what suicide makes you think about?
It made me wonder if the pain could have gone away.
It made me wonder why that day was the day.
It made me wonder what inside me got so hard I couldn't face another single day living in this toxic world.

I love you.
I miss you.
I'm so sorry.

Some walk on their hands by some
cruel gesture of idealistic Faith
As long as the mind is numb, the Soul is all alone.
Feel the chill of a November evening
Neglecting the Life-giving day.
Act as if each of these things can be
merely thrown away.
For all that come or choose or may.
As for the Individual, who try and try as he may
to swear that at the end of this
One Long Day
That they know to be home
They didn't know they were creating most
if not all, of Love, of Fear, and hope.
Dismay or reasons to hooray.
Terra-cotta attachments
"Let all Rise and Fall"
by the end of your most
manic, monkey-minded day
You wish to say Nay
To cast your flashy wristwatches off
the concrete roof, in ballot to eternity,
While our souls collide, aloof.
Limitless, understanding, Time.