The light is racing from our room,
seeping through the cracks under the door.
The darkness grows,
casting us into shadow.
but all things including light die in the end
utterances in the small places of my dark mind
lend themselfs to such times
i would not suffer to pass
the hour without bringing forth all the angers
and mettlesome ways that confound you
the smokes rakes against my mind,
hiding me behind my eyes.
The truth came calling
along with the clock's toll,
but who among us could answer such an ominous cry?
When the hours between midnight
and 4 am are so unforgiving.
i am filled with tears
until i can bear no more
your words kiss my mind
and i cannot return this tenderness
for it would turn to love
i am waiting these hours
in the desolate towers of cold
for the rescue of dawn
but it gives little comfort
were that i could reach out to you
but i dare not
i dare not


Edit et al:           Collaboration Poem written by alyssainwonderland (http://hellopoetry.com/-alyssainwonderland/) and I (Mark John Junor); alyssainwonderland contributions are in italics

The light is racing from our room,
seeping through the cracks under the door.
The darkness grows,
casting us into shadow.
but all things including light die in the end
utterances in the small places of my dark mind
lend themselfs to such times
i would not suffer to pass
the hour without bringing forth all the angers
and mettlesome ways that confound you
the smokes rakes against my mind,
hiding me behind my eyes.
The truth came calling
along with the clock's toll,
but who among us could answer such an ominous cry?
When the hours between midnight
and 4 am are so unforgiving.
i am filled with tears
until i can bear no more
your words kiss my mind
and i cannot return this tenderness
for it would turn to love
i am waiting these hours
in the desolate towers of cold
for the rescue of dawn
but it gives little comfort
were that i could reach out to you
but i dare not
i dare not

Subtly and quietly, uncertainty has recaptured its place in my mind.
Just as soon as I thought I was happy,
When I thought the sun was shinning over the horizon,
The gloomy impenetrable clouds of uncertainty and indecision return into my view.

I know that somewhere beyond these clouds there is light.
But, why must the clouds stand in the way?
Why must they frequently return?

Please, let me be.
Let me enjoy.
Put my mind at ease, and allow me to feel fervently.
Allow my emotions to ravish me in pure ecstasy.
Let the light consume every single part of me.
Fill me light, until my cup is overwhelmed. Inundate every part of me!
I beg, and I plea! Light, please take me!
Allow me to soar past the darkness that constantly captures me, that enshrouds me, that eviscerates the entirety of me!

Please, ominous and petrifying clouds of indecision and uncertainty…
Please… let me be happy.

- j.m

I found a letter my mother wrote to my sister in her old cookbook;
”Lock the front door and go to bed in my bed – I will call you - Mom.”

If I could just go back for a moment to that time and that place­ - our small house with the gold painted walls -  my mom walking up the steps, coming home from work in her nurse¹s cap.

Just one more day, sitting at the dining room table, the open window at my back letting in the late summer heat, the early evening light, the droning of a lawn mower. The six of us at the crowded table, spread with the summer food - slices of tomato, baked beans, cottage cheese, iced tea in a ceramic jug.

Just one more night, out on the front curb, listening to the whispering adults on the front porches; lying back in the cool grass, watching the fireflies, waiting for something ominous to move in the night sky.

There was no time without my mother then - and it’s true - she will always be there.

The darkness wraps my hands in a hungry embrace that reminds me of the yearning that had once burned too deep in my heart. I smirk, somehow that fire still had embers, unlike the ashes in my pipe. I grab a pack of cigarettes and step out into the hallway. Walking down the stairs silently I surprise a tenant fumbling with her keys; she freezes (usually when someone is silent others fill that silence with their own fantasies but Death is so strong within me that there is no space for them to fill), I placate her uneasiness with a smile and keep walking. As I pass by her, I realize that her apartment is right beneath mine. I glance back and realize that she’s watching me too; I almost stop but the fluid molasses in my bones smoothes out the jerk of my heart and continues my path, unaltered.

Later, under the swollen clouds, I catch the last glimpse of sunlight before it yields to the crushing horizons of storm and sea. Standing in the lush green of the coast, I find it difficult to remember why I gave up. The grey fog rises up in me; I shake my head and plant my feet. Staring stoically into the horizon where that last beam had emanated from, I push my mind outwards, into the trees, into the soil, into the sea. I stand for ten minutes, reaching into the magnetic fields piercing us all, until my mind purifies into soul and I leave my body standing there. My consciousness dives deep into the sea, unknown channels of awareness feeding me information about the lives below. I freeze at the continental shelf. The whispered rumblings that lay beyond spoke of ancient souls possessing a knowledge that threatened to consume my existence; I fade back into myself. Another failure.

I forget the world around me as I walk back to the streets and humanity, diving into a different sea, a sea of memories. First, the image of a free-diver, poised confidently at the edge of that darkly blue abyss, spreading his arms and falling then swimming into the depths; a true warrior. Then comes the remembrance of a dream, a story of adventure.

I wake up to the sound of gulls screeching at each other, fighting over everything by the sound. I open my eyes; the sharp light of autumn comes through the leaves of trees that flank the path on both sides. I turn over and push myself to my feet. Dichotomies surround, to my right is the open sea, calm for now; on my left is an artificial lake bordered on the opposite side by a serene forest filled with yellows and oranges, light made solid. Behind me is an expanse of fog that stretches as far as I can see, its lack of motion is unnerving. Ahead, the path, seven meters wide, has no apparent end or juncture with the land. I consider crossing the lake but as I step to the edge of the gravel and place my foot on the first rock down, I see a dark shadow approach from beneath. A snake of enormous size glides past, the glint of his silver scales is accentuated by the ruby red stripes that lead to his eyes. An eye, almost the size of my fist, meets mine and I understand. He is the keeper of the water, he knows his place and he knows mine; I ask him for my place, he dismisses the question, it is for me to discover and not his to give.

I walk onward. For hours I walk beneath the soothing light of a loving sun and know no hunger or thirst. Time becomes meaningless in a place where only the sun and moon travel. Eternity embraces me.

Then, a shift.

Clouds form across the ocean, and suddenly my body reels in pain. Throat parched and belly pinched, I crawl to the edge of the lake to drink. I reach towards the water and suddenly it breaks apart as the spread jaws of the Snake rush towards me. I snatch my hand back and the fangs stop inches from my face. He lowers his head to look me evenly in the eyes. I stare into his soul and he contemplates mine. I see endless eternities wrapped up into a torus made of fire and water; their eternal conflict wrapping the ends of time into a seamless knot of light and darks. He says to me, “Face your trials.”

I stand up straight and say goodbye to him. Back on the path I keep walking, hunger and thirst eating away at my bones. In the failing light, I catch an unbelievable sight, the path veers at a right angle to the left, into the forest. Stunned, I almost stop walking, but my feet know their job too well. As I approach the end of the path I realize there is more to be known here. A choice to be made. The path does not entirely end, it becomes a pier that stretches thirty meters out into the black sea. More intriguing is the concrete structure that lies between the new path and the pier. It’s trapezoidal faces penetrate the sand to an unknown depth. I walk around, there is only one opening, a square window that faces out to sea. The steel shutter for the window is open and oddly unweathered. There is graffiti on the structure, most of it worn away by time and the sea. I look back at the shutter suspiciously then glance back at the faded letters. One message is still legible, it reads ‘The Way is silent’. Ominous. I step back and consider the structure. I decide to leave it. I notice suddenly how dark the sky has become, heavy clouds block out the sun. The possibility of a storm frightens me and I run towards the forest. A flash blinds me and a hot blast of air throws me against the structure. I lay there barely breathing, waiting for my sight to return, if it will return. Rain begins to fall and I remember His words. Face your trials. I open my eyes and see the shadowy outlines of the path; it’s too dark to tell if my eyes are damaged. I stand straight once more and climb through the window, and then… a shift.

I find myself standing in the rain, waiting for a light on a post to let me through the street. The dream always fades away there. That old black hole is tiptoed around until it violently reasserts its enduring presence. I get to the apartments and stay outside the door, an overhang shields me from the rain. I light up and watch the droplets splash against the world. There’s some sort of metaphor in that, I think as I take a large drag. Holding it in, I feel my nerves sink into the ground as the nicotine fills my body. As I let it out, peace washes over me. I stand there awhile longer to finish my cigarette until I notice a figure crossing the street towards me. My mild surprise dissipates as I remember where I’m standing, social awkwardness takes its place and I dissipate it by opening the door for the person. The light from inside spreads to the ground in front of them, and they look up. It’s the girl from below, her eyes were filled with some sort of hope but as recognition spread across her face, the hope faded away. Something stabbed at my heart and I smiled to cover it. She smiled back, a friendly smile, but there was another message in her eyes, something I couldn’t read. She thanked me and passed on. Utterly perplexed, I held the door open longer than necessary and let it go with a start. The last few drags were fitful and unpleasant; I stamped out the butt and threw it away.

I could’ve sworn I never saw her before today and yet she seemed so familiar. I walked upstairs angrily. I know I have a terrible social memory, but it can’t be that bad. I haven’t been to party in this town so it was very unlikely that I’ve ever met her before and forgot. I stopped at her hallway. The door was right there, I could just knock and talk to her, what was the harm in that? But no, what if I’m just imagining things? Maybe the correlation between her recognition and the fading of hope was accidental, she was just disappointed that I wasn’t who she expected.  What if she does know me and expects me to be something other than I am? Paranoia. I shook my head and turned to the stairs.

...

  I woke with the disgusting feel of sweat soaked into the sheets. I rose quickly and was surprised by the droplets running down my face. What the hell happened? I raced around the apartment. Nothing was out of place, all the locks were closed. That left the internal world as the cause. I sat down and tried to remember. There was nothing left but fire and that damned laughter.

    you’re weak, boy

    The fuck? I opened my eyes and looked around. Nothing. Thoroughly convinced that I was near the breaking point, I grabbed a hat and a coat and ran to the door. I took a deep breath, slowed my heart, reset my face to neutral and stepped out. A casual smile flickered across my lips as an overly friendly neighbor walked passed with his laundry.
   
 “How’s it hangin’ bro?”

  “Deep and blue.” I replied enigmatically with a smile that allowed him to accept it as humor.
    He laughed and said, “Might want to get that checked out, most girls won’t appreciate that kind of snake.”
  “Indeed.” I walked upstairs so I wouldn’t have to deal with him all the way down. After he passed to the second floor, I went back down. I stopped at her door  again, but only to regard it as a curiosity, my decision had been made last night.

  I nearly jumped as the knob turned. I froze and watched the sliver of light expand into a halo spread over her dark red hair. How did I notice her before? The luminous blue eyes in front of me had a questioning look. “Sorry, ma’am, you caught me by surprise.”

  “I’s okay, you returned the favor. You look like a deer caught in headlights, though, so I guess you had it worse.”

  Or better.
   “As long as you don’t run me over, I’ll be fine.” A genuine smile came to my lips.

  “That depends on whether you want to be.” The tone in her voice changed dramatically. All playfulness was gone. I realized suddenly that her eyes hadn’t left mine, she wasn’t making a sexual overture at all, somehow she had glimpsed my will to Death.

  Stunned, once again, I simply stared for a few moments and then murmured, “So the eyes really are the window to the soul.”

  “Indeed.” Her eyes left mine and she walked downstairs without another word. I watched her as she descended, an elegant figure who flowed down the steps with a grace that reminded me of a willow bending in the wind. She stopped at the landing and looked at me once more. There was no revulsion in her eyes, either she did not mind being checked out or she knew that my gaze meant something more than the twisting of my loins. There was a certain steadiness in there that contained a familiar message. Face your trials. As I heard it in my mind, her gaze dropped and she continued on. I stood there with my hands on the rails awhile longer, contemplating. I suddenly wished that I had a friend, someone I could trust and who could confirm that this woman existed.

  I looked down at my coat and decided it was unnecessary, I wasn’t going to be stumbling drunk through the city today. I went up to my apartment and changed into lighter fare, I even shaved. feeling better-looking, I opened my laptop and looked up events in the city. I found a photography exhibition that would open tonight, nothing formal, it was a local exhibition. More likely to be focused on the art instead of prestige, which made it very palatable to me. That a left a whole day to burn, correction, use. I paused. That was correction I hadn’t made in a long, long time. Come to think of it, how long has it been since I’ve used a day? She gets one smile out of me and suddenly I’m reborn? Bullshit, can’t be that easy. Either way, it’d be good to produce.

    I grabbed a sketchpad and headed out to the park. I sat between three trees off the path, where I could be alone. Pencil in hand, I crafted the image of lightning descending from the sky with explosive force onto the crown of great dragon, one leg back bracing against the force of the storm. The electricity illuminated him from the inside and spread out through his wings, savagely striking through body into earth.

    When it was done, my mind returned to the surface and I wondered at the lack of self in it, at least, the self I commanded. It made sense that the part of me which heeds no command or restraint would be the most eloquently creative. I laid back in the grass and watched the ghostlike traces of vapor in the sky above drift calmly past from one tree’s embrace to another’s. The tension in the grass beneath was comforting. They shall not falter. Comforted, I drifted away into the skies above.

    I awoke at sunset and ventured back into the lives of others. I walked around the park for awhile until I found some teenagers whose awkward outbursts of expression told me of their lack of understanding. They did not know Death and so of course He would tempt them. I approached, silently as always.

    “Which of you would like a genuine message from God?” I declared in a parody of frightful conviction.

    They considered me with confused glances until one broke from her stupor, “You a priest?”

    “Yes, and I follow the word of Art.” I smiled and raised the drawing. “2.99 is the exclusive offer for this prescient piece of work.”

    “I’ll give you a dollar to leave us alone.” the one with muscles and tight pants said.

    “Any other takers?”

    “I’ll buy you food man, I won’t feed your drug habit.”

    I laughed long and hard. “Don’t concern yourself with me! I am the very model of a modern major general, the ideal of a self-sufficient man. My request for trade is not for my benefit, it is solely to remove the guilt of the unearned from your hearts. Thus, I shall sell this to you for as much as your heart desires.”

    “So if I gave you a hundred dollars would that burden you?” the girl asked. I noticed the perceptive light of her eyes.

    “Not at all, dear madam, money is an idea and all ideas are open to those who are willing to work to understand them.” My grin turned revolutionarily dark.

    “So what would burden you?”

    “A kiss would break my back.” My grin faltered, how the fuck did that confession escape? Something’s wrong, or at the very least, changed. Their guarded expressions opened a little as my mask cracked. Slightly angry at my lack of control, I became dramatic. “In fact, I shall give to the Earth, for she has given me everything.” I dropped it at their feet and walked away. I was only a few steps away when I heard her say to her friends, “Don’t wait up.” I kept walking and smiled at the sound of her rushed steps to catch up with me. As she caught up I noticed a rolled piece of paper in her left hand. I almost smiled again but withheld it. “I guess rambling idiots don’t scare you.”

    “You shouldn’t talk like that.”

    “Oh, and why is that?”

    “Lying about yourself is the same as hating yourself. It’s worse when you’re destroying something that could be good.” Two sentences and she’s already striking my heart. Why is it so easy for them?

    “So you think you know me.”

    She stopped walking. I almost keep walking but for once, I find myself stopping. I turn around and look her in the eyes. Dazzling green. Like jewels. I stop myself and begin reassembling my armor but she speaks too soon. “I know enough about the world to know that when a man approaches strangers as intensely as you just did, it means that he has a story to tell. And storytellers always respect truth, if they have any love left in them.”

    “My stories are too dark to share, the world’s got enough problems without sharing mine.”

    “If you can’t let go of your hatred, you won’t be able to find anything else.”

    I lower my eyes, “Not even death?”

    “If you wanted it, you’d have it.”

    I raise my eyes to hers once again. “How do you people keep finding me?”

    She pauses, confidence shaken. Her clear image of the man before her warped. “Are you a schizo?”

    I consider saying yes in order to escape her but then I realize the grasping claws of pity would just trade places with her eyes. “I was talking about your soul. You and other Watchers keep finding me, pulling me back to my purpose but I don’t want it.” My voice has fallen to a harsh whisper. “My gaze is poison. Let me remove it!”

    Somehow the denial reaffirms her suspicion but the different approach results in her becoming scared rather than piteous. She looks around and I realize there is no one in sight and the sun is gone. The unknown bears down on us and I have a vision of her on her knees, bound before me. She looks into my eyes and finds only darkness; she steps back.

    “You see? Poison.” My voice cracks on the last syllable.

    Fear fades from eyes but before she says anything more I step off the path into darkness where she won’t follow.

    In a few hours I’m back on Mulberry, almost home, if anyplace can be considered my home. My hands feel clammy from the cigarette I’m smoking and I lose myself in the unclean fire at its tip. My reverie is broken by the awareness of someone sitting at the front of the door. She raises her eyes, a memory of a bright blue sky. A smile comes, unbidden. “Hey there, why are you sitting out in the cold?”

    She laughs ashamedly, “I think I left my key in the apartment.”

    “Couldn’t buzz anybody to let you in?”

    A hardness enters her eyes, “I can’t stand speaking to people through a box.” I decide not to push the matter and open the door. We climb up the stairs silently, side by side. We stop on the second floor, her apartment door only a few steps away. She’s about to say something but I interject before the first sound is made. “I guess I’ll see you around. Have a good night!”

    She doesn’t respond right away, apparently wondering whether to continue with this tract or return to hers. I suddenly wish I hadn’t blocked her, the familiar guilt of a missed opportunity courses through me and I gladly give her my parting words and turn away before she even has her hand on the doorknob.

    Once upstairs I turn on the music to drown out any sounds from below. I grab the pipe and hotbox my bathroom. Thirty minutes later I’ve forgotten her as I guide my avatar through wartorn battlefields that mercifully require every fiber of my awareness to navigate. When it begins to wear off, I keep smoking until I pass out.

  Eternities pass beneath a solemn moon, reflections of the wasted past and hopeless future spent in a netherworld where time and distance have no meaning. Eventually my soul drifts back to the brain and I find myself in front of the cement bunker once more. The storm is in full rage now, the waves smash against the rocks, slowly loosening their hold on each other. Lightning flashes across the sky and stinging rain slashes my skin. I look down at that frightening message once more, the concrete remains untouched by the force of the wind and sea. I climb through the black hole once more and drop down into the darkness. The way is silent. The steel cover falls behind me and cuts me off from all remnants of light and sound. Even the screaming winds have no power in this eternal place. I desperately attempt to lift it but the seam that should've existed between the steel and concrete simply did no exist, fused through some unknown process. Despair overtook me long ago and I'd learned to keep walking in spite of the lack of inner light but how much longer can I go on?

  The ground is hard and cold, I try to lay down but it steals my heat with an unbearable hunger. I am forced to walk on. I grope with stuttering hands and steps, unable to discern any manner of form within that hollow blackness. I turn back and find the wall, I follow it on the right hand side starting from the square cut that borders the implacable steel. The wall turns soon but not nearly quick enough to make sense within the context of it's supposed dimensions. Suddenly I am aware that I am within a dream but for once, I do not awake instantly. Instead harsh vibrations begin to coarse through my body and I fall silently to the floor as hole opens in the roof above. The full moon mocks me from above, the storm has moved within. A magnetic force draws my hands into prayer over my chest and a sinister cloud of black dust rises out of my belly. Red eyes open within it and savage energies burn my nerves and rip my muscles. I stand slowly, silently screaming in fear and rage, but I cannot extend my spine. I roll around in tormentous pain, slamming my fists, my shoulders, my knees, my body against the stone floor. I taste death and a subtle, purple tinge grows within the dark cloud, resolving into the shape of a winged serpent. The black scales encase the glowing essence and its eyes become a deep purple, promising a fire that could consume me in total finality. Its maw opens wide and silver teeth bathe in demonic fire that reaches for my body, my soul. It never hits me. A golden dragon bursts from my heart and swallows the dark flames. Hope burns suddenly and fiercely in my heart but not for long. The dragons curl side by side and their teeth shine in the blue moonlight. It takes me a moment to realize that they are smiling at me. The golden one speaks, "Did you imagine it was easy as all that?" His sinister grin quenches the fire within me and my shoulders go slack as I watch them vaporize and fade into the moonrays. The hole closes and darkness embraces me once more. Mercifully, I awake.

in your white city
wrapped in pavement
nestled between the hills
where nothing flourishes
the tree tops close to you
eager to tear apart from the ground
and your tainted water
is poison
to all who wish to seek its purity

a smothered innocence
born into a soulless city
and the metal-clad titans
that threaten my wooden structure
break through my barrier, into my arms
my weaponry is pillaged
and i again remain reckless to you
your striking force
blunt across my chest
breathless, i remain in your agony

and as messages from you come up silent
i feel my heart floating
in your ominous sea
tying joyous knots
between frequent skipping beats
creating drops of your voice
that are echoed in the wells of my chest
for your sweet words blossomed twice
like clear stained letters
written near dawn

i fear
that the collapse of your growth is nearing
and the words that once laid before you
are voices in the distance
and the landscape of  your thoughts
buried shame
is brought upon still hearts
publicized
and all we wished to stay hidden
is torn across the horizon
and stretched across the bridges
with sorrow tipped urgency

and you lament to me
for i dreamt of your sorrow
going to the branches
when you should have sought the core
for now, all that is hopeless in your misery
is set free upon the village
set loose upon a whim
in your undying destruction

descend upon me in your radiance
for i was conceived in your fire
and now i stand, chest heaving
burnt in your tragedy
awaiting your return to my ruins
but your smile plays to your demise
and you instead cover me in your distance
a walking dream of your terror
the putrid evidence of your existence
leaves a stain upon my flesh
for i believed in your like a religion
for you were the disciple of my heart
but that legacy has been destroyed
for you have never carried your sins

like my wish upon a fallen star
burnt out upon the night
prepare yourself for slaughter
for when the evening breaks
the sun will be red with tears
and i will be born again in your remains

Not funny but this was written on 4-15-12 exactly a year to the day


I re-post this for our last battel field Boston these words are nothing but as you read you will find the one who lives in them and He is everything all the comfort and hope we can ever want


Sorry if this seems at first confusing all my friends on facebook and Redbullble will get it right away as
I asked them to use their love and caring to pray for my hurting distraught friend at her time of great
Loss if you are hurting it will help to at least a degree or it will help at times of future loss

Well dear sweet precious Addy this brutal day is at an end I hope you sleep well I prayed for you and
Kathleen’s son way into the night at first I was terrified you weren’t going to get my post and you would
Enter as I told my wife you would enter the lion’s den the lions all have familiar names pain sorrow
Grief and many others and they maul with cruelty without pity I didn’t want ether of you to take those
Fatal steps without your armor not to be to descriptive but reality waited with a blast I tried to diffuse the
Coffin the grave and headstone never could I do it immeasurably my fight for you could only be in the
Smallest victories comfort mined at times like these is like uranium white silver metallic with almost
A power that can’t be harnessed the same as loss of a love one what blow back again the same as a
Nuclear test one problem you don’t get the protection of a bunker no just suffer the blast in your
Body mind and heart you are stepping in to the shoes the same as young woman who lost her father
That as she described him he was the light of her life our paths crossed on line when I thought she
Was a classmate’s wife her story of her dad touched me deeply I’m going to add that piece here plus
The comfort I tried to write for my friend that was more like my brother when his mother died I will
Include a small background so it wail make more sense let me add those here the first was Fathers story
What you read here is her hearts knowing and the undying love that it created and that continues.
His precious hands were removed from earthly things. A great and gentle man his greatest possessions his family. I only knew him from his business and the fact that one of his beautiful daughters married a classmate of mine. Then much later by error I made acquaintance with another of his daughters you can tell a lot about a person from the actions of his children. She told me that he passed away and that he was the light of her life. With God’s help I would like to pay tribute to him.
A light did shine it was magnified by the eyes of a daughters love. He took his journey he went above his ship was the care they shared he the captain made the course straight and true he didn’t slow her run until heaven was in plain view they would have cheered but it hard to see through eyes filled with tears. All the wonderful years seemed to be eclipsed by the sickness that came it seemed an angry wind from their lives this stalwart precious soul it did rend. It left the greatest empty hole it took the longest time to fill and then with the sweetest cooing the grand babies made the hole enlivened not the terrible twisted knot that had the family bound but without being able to speak a word grampaw was found. If you looked in their faces his smile is bound to bundles only heaven can design. I’m not saying they asked him how to work these miracles yet this is true he watched with intense interest and was happiest since his departure he knew that back through time and space healing was for all time secured. Their stoic acceptance could now be laid aside the family could run in softer climes know the sweetest of times that were thought to be forever gone.
Love spills down from heights distance is only on a map in peoples heart its no farther than the end of your finger tips. Images are so strong not because we have great minds it’s easy to make these rich finds when your love and its power shake the foundation of the universe is it not said that love is the greatest power. Oh how so many in dark shadows cower when they possess the power to ignite the world on fire. From heart to heart it does dart the wildness of the spirit is told blotting out all of the cold. Yes there is winter but also the spring. The light spoken of is no longer beholden to earth and so the family is free by love he joins his light to the Christ the all glowing light
Life force by haldenton
To all who have lost heroes
This was written to Eva’s son Bill to help him at her passing. With this writing I took him back thirty years when he was in the truck wreck that killed his dad his recovery saved his mother I hoped by him being reminded of that now it would help him the same way.
Tribute to Eva Wafford Life force
For all who lost heroes
In your soul freshly the wind of death did blow.
Cold eerie shadows marched against your tender broken heart.
What defense could this onslaught repel agony’s volcanic flow.
Ominous well filled with grief from this weight no relief.
The child the grim reaper did spare.
Only after leaving the body bruised and in despair.
From this broken body drops of mercy started to make the mother well.
I held your trembling frame today this memory rings sweet as a bell.
Streets and houses without number fill the land.
I can’t help when I look to recall memories grand.
Now they are but dreams that ache in the night.
Images that over ride the present in their glory I take flight.
Brush aside caution raise your voice as a trumpet.
They live only in yesterdays even so indelibly they wrote their stories.
We hold our children we cling only a moment as mist on the summit.
Your life Eva continues to build the next generation.
Your voice is heard in the breath of your grandchildren.
Wonders they spin from golden thread, now that you have gone ahead.
Your spirit glows in the fire that warms the house against winter.
Summer’s cool breeze not sent by chance she doe’s tenderly incite.
Death silently said what I already knew.
To me you were always immortal you were bigger than life
Many were the days when the wind of storms blew
those who know us feel the calm; this is only your life on review

One more
Simply Jim
Old Abe said it right ‘It is right and fitting that we speak these words here to honor these lives so honorably lived. I can say that about Jim and this also he was a prince among men if I do this right the words will convince you.
He had a gentle way and nature he spoke softly but a softness that flowed to you like ribbons that bounced in a little girl’s hair how delightful. He should have been a doctor his hands his mannerism was ideal for that job. I guess thats what made him stand out so strongly like a gentle calm breeze if you came in a panic his soul would float down around you like a parachute first it safely brings you from great anxiety and exaltation to a graceful landing then gently envelops you in its silken embrace. I had this privilege of watching him inter act with his wife as I said and truly he was a prince and I was the beggar that benefitted richly from the sidelines God knew my needs.
He was called from this life but all the days he filled before his home going are the sustaining force noticeably seen felt with keen awareness you know that a gentleman passed this way. In the lives left behind there is a blend of sadness and astonishment you realize you are looking at the work of a master workman who left behind a tightly and perfectly fitted family this unfortunately is sadly rare in this society that boast of its accomplishments.
As a friend his breadth and depth was sufficient you weren’t a burden he had a way of dispelling trouble making you understand with wisdom and unerring judgment then with ease you could extricate yourself from the problem. His heavenly father filled him with tenderness it stood him and others well in a somewhat crabby world. If you’re pressed and anxious about life take from this life expressed. A portion of the good will you need use it as a defense Jim couldn’t be everywhere but God saw fit to make an original that you can duplicate benefit from and be a part of his ongoing legacy. Thanks friend for a life lived well

Well hurting one in the earlier part of a writing I said I am God’s battle field reporter and medic
These writings are my bandages and gauze God gave me great big hands and I fill them with
Salve with all the love I know I gently apply it to your broken hurting wounds mingle it with
Tears that are not always mine alone but His mixes with mine one day He will abolish all tears
Until then this is our duty your heart we hear and we can do no other God bless you Addy and
Your nephew and all others who find this helpful

Mirrored Pool


Wonder for all the hurts

First I knelt just to see my reflection then the depths started to reveal first the flowing thoughts were
Restrained and then a bubbling seemed to dislodge from greater depths hard truths churned with
Violent twisting but the motion made it impossible to turn away there were great large white clouds
From depths then even above the pool they rose fourteen stories high the sensation was you were
Standing outside clear air intoxicating views the pulse of many were throbbing in your ears their
Thoughts and dreams were known and their sorrows were weights that pulled you from the heights
It was a colossal game of tag and you were it first reaction fear then the appearance of bundled gifts
Broke down the fear it was promise in different sizes that met the required needs it was like a divine
Warehouse had just made a delivery there were cards with names and writing gave clarification tears
And smiles intermingled then the outer knowing postulated the difficulty the puzzle an enormous
Streaming that was now congested and it was beginning a vortex all was understood now human thought
With doubts was pulling the answer into this destructive hole where was one to find the lever to stop
This action that would disallow was the answer to touch the water bring the finger to my lips possibly
A blazing thought would occur that would strike the mind no all that brought was words that had the
Letters jumbled they made no sense unless there is a special book that is alive in it the letters and words
Are already set but they cover every act in the human condition the broken can pour over the pages
You won’t find thorns to repel your efforts there are thorns but they will speak and assuage your hurts
At the most basic and needed levels the points of your hurts will begin to dissolve from your eyes to
Your mind this inward rush and power will dislodge even spears driven deep by enemies carried for
Years you searched in vain over sad and lonely paths and days now you journey is at an end thorns of
Suffering for another produces profound power and mercy go in peace beloved one another bears your
Burden now maybe words cut you at depths you can’t even identify what if there is an antidote in a
Book you pick it up with trembling hands your body tingles from the knowledge that this is ancient texts
It will have a revival of appreciation in this world of texting but with gentle fingers and eyes that glow
With respect as you see the wisdom and the love cannot be denied you leave the world you know and
With total abandonment you swim in this sea of words until the your tears spill on this rich world of
Words those cruel barbed words that pierced tender skin and have bled internally all of these years
Begin to dissolve with stories and accounts of betrayals then the swells love and mercy you read about
Restoration not always found after apologies are given but the teaching of forgiveness strikes a cord
You have been made free from your prison the tangles of life are great as a great black cloud it hangs
Over head many are its troubles this isn’t mild but the disruptive made to strike and pierce deep the
Hidden that steals the morning blessing while other feast your hunger and unrest only enlarges a
Tormenting unquenchable fire a slow burn this is a forest being burned at the thermal level the hidden
Roots a slow process destructive but not so visible agony torture I have seen men crawl in war or fire
Fighting that where all else is lost you will know greater thrills than any other living soul with the
Desperate and those heavy burdened unable to stand a word will flow it puts out fires and gives
The luxurious buoyancy heaviness changed to joy the bouncy laughter every outward blast attack
The enemy launches is within its pages they are repelled overwhelmed by love you suffer unduly
If you don’t hold this fortress this informative book of stratagems that have made everyone a victor
Who has ever found themselves at their wits end no place on earth has a contingency plan though it
Will make the greatest claims all is just empty air when life as it too often does sucks the very air of life
Out we practically are unconscious but this help this rescue is activated by one name it’s not just a book
But the word is a person what a pool you will find what a reflection will engage you beyond your hope
To imagine just say Jesus all will be total peace your heart will know no more sorrow peace will surpass
Sorrow love will disallow the specter that was once a constant it will disappear it will return to the
Darkness from which it came stand in this newness totally free abide by still waters as the good
Sheppard stands by bless you



Disgrace

This land void of devotion gone is the church steeples.
Replaced by voices and shadows of drug dealers on each corner.
Now they are the keepers, lost cities, death stalks its peoples.
Nothing is sacred in this polluted and diffused land.

No longer hallowed be thy name, it’s as if he never came.
Forgotten is any standard of moral excellence.
The once high ideals only represent a fool’s parlance.
Man declares I throw off these restraints only to find darker chains.

The book that once guided this great land.
We now betray with each waking day.
Our hearts and mind it did ignite, now it’s word we can’t stand.
Powerless and feeble we stumble, anxious ever moment.

Just to remember is not enough, best confess our pride.
Make sacrifice with our lips, to burn on altars on high.
There is a short season for all to make amends to regain our stride.
March on to glory with it burning on the inside.

You don’t have to be astute in business to see the sound investment.
Bring your poverty of spirit leave with the riches of his last testament.
It offers the greatest rate of exchange.
Light for darkness, life for death, selfless love for selfishness.


Streaks of Jefferson


In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the

Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern

Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the

Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a

Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it

For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes

To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny

Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country






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The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
And the sky is an ominous boat of gravy

But the scenery's bright
In the middle of the night
When the sky is swirled in navy.

The scenery's lonely
And you are the only
Life in the march of a swarm

The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
But it feels refreshingly warm.

All around me are the people of my past and future
Yet I cannot remember my childhood or anything
I feel so pressured with some ominous obligation
I have a yearning, a passion
Burning deep inside for someone to reach out
To feel how I feel, to share their being with my being
Two halves make a whole
Yet if one half is lost, what can you do?

I sit, stare, glance, and contemplate
What I had, what I've lost, what I've become
Full of pure evil coated by a sheen of happiness
Buried within is the soul of a confused child
I need some sort of cleansing, a renewal
I lie yet somehow it is comforting
Truth is inevitable yet ultimate
Is corruption this comforting?

Broken memories of "Hey There Delilah"
Sitting on a field drinking water for the game
Divorce and tears falling from the soulless child
Memories that have long been lost
I've truly contemplated about taking my life
Not for bullying or self harm
But for the fact of a broken mind
And the soulless body that I reside in

Everything's heavy
everywhere I turn there's something new
to make me turn again
endless circles
I'm dizzy
and everything's spinning
but maybe by morning I'll be gone.

Everything's bare
skin to sheets
words lost somewhere before lips
before sound
before whimper
and everything's silent
but maybe by morning I'll be gone.

The air is false
this comfort is temporary
this light is weak
I hardly blink
and sound is ominous
layers of tally marks every time I've cried for you
but maybe by morning I'll be gone.

And you won't mind
And you will be free
Easier now that I've done the hard part for you
There's no need to fuss anymore
over what to say to keep yourself intact
because maybe by morning I'll be gone.