Climb the mountain,
And see what's on the other side of fear.

I was always infused by the quartz of time
I balanced love in separate hands ; cut , aching , refusing to heal

Happiness was measured out one grain of sand at a time
My measuring cup runneth over

My thoughts are bleached  bone white .
But I have preserved the marrow of my ways

I am the walking cacti
that push rocks in the sand creating the trails of tears that never reach the ground

I am desert
Full of the emptiness
that exists on the face of clocks and time

I am one grain of sand
The silence of the wind
I have no foundation
I'm tendered to my whims

There was a feeling at the back of my throat
that I just couldn’t swallow
  
I lived with it
the way that I live with a song
that gets stuck in my head  

Then it began to migrate
to my eyes
to my stomach
to my knees

I could taste it

every time I tried to breathe
my chest would shake  
My throat vibrating staccatos
as I exhaled

I needed somewhere to lay my head
until I could choke it down
or cough it out.    

The feeling was a little rubber ball             
It had no color           
It had no name  

It bounced around in my head,
much more dangerous than a song             
This rubber ball was mine
and it might never fade  

If I couldn’t sing it out
or give it to someone else  
I’d be stuck with my rubber ball
until they take it away

When no one is looking
I throw my rubber ball
I smash it on the rough concrete
outside in the street

Sometimes
I aim it at the bare light bulb
high on the ceiling.  
My rubber ball is bruised
and scratched
and burned.  

This rubber ball that is mine
doesn’t count.  I don’t want it.  

They will take it away with
the feeling at the back of my throat
that I’m not big enough to swallow

Frog on a lilly
white flower fragrant and sweet
happy hoppy frog

Dust particles flicker
Like snow suspended
In the back and forth
An ocean of mo(u)rning
Light polishing pieces
Into small sea shells
Fragments of another
Body, of another life

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Love (down)

I love you
And you will never hear me say
That I don't
I know
We are meant to be
I can't believe that you think
You're not beautiful
I'm sorry but
You are mine
You can never say that
I'm lying

Evol (up)

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

I place my feet into a bucket of water
displacement
I remove my feet
water rushes in to fill the void
Soon the water seems still
as if my feet were never there
When we stop swimming in the ocean of life
the void of us fills with water just the same.
What remains of us?  
The energy of the currents and waves

we got used to being abandoned
we did not give up waiting
shadows disappeared all the time
when the sun is gone

our life turned into a fairy tale

Last night,
before I closed my eyes
to sleep

my heart said, “I can’t wait
to love myself to another day.”

Today,
I woke up and felt my heart
was breaking.

“What happened?” I asked it gently.

“The same thing that always happens,” it replied.
“You teach me how to love myself by destroying myself
and now I’m breaking.”

I poured some coffee on the ground

It's now on my feet

I don't want to write this,
but I am
I don't know what to write,
but I am

I sat outside today
and I got bored,
so - I poured some coffee on the ground

I don't know what to make of life
but I am

Early summer churchyard awash with spring flowers flooding to its old walls
under dark years
the small stone angel stood over the beloved
once bewept
lichened by time she waited forever
no one came anymore
only the wind and the sun
the sundial at the door only knew today
birds singing swooped across the silence
in silent stone prayer she alone remained
with the playful squirrels
butterflies or bees resting on her folded wings
caught the sun
filtering softly through dancing flames of young beech
as it moved from dawn to eve...

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I am a villain in somebody’s story
Multiple perhaps
more than likely

And that is excruciating.

I wish I could’ve done right by every single one of them

    So every indention of me left brings only warmth

The universe loves a bad joke.

I wish things were different
Between you and me
But all of these feelings,
That's all they'll ever be.

Left for good
Bad is right
Living a one way life
Wishing to end
This life of sin

~
      In the end one then begins to right the wrongs; from insight ,with what we write in songs. a night alone,beside urself in a fight for gold  frigid& cold feelin naked & ****** bruised bleedin all because wireless network pending payment delayed and and my messages not sending nor recieving and in traffic but with my 4 bad habits safe to include i forgot if it was right ? Maybe left?

For good
If only we knew
Our way of life
If only we knew
The struggle
The fight left inside
Wrong is wrong
Right is right

So many poems
and stories
have gone unwritten
due to fear of not being good enough

If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

In the morning of yesterday
There were strangers talking in my garden, heads close together
Intent on each other, in whispers
I heard them say your name
And the earth shifted a little...the season moved forward a little
And I heard myself sigh like a dreamer

Harvesting hearts and marigolds
The thief steals in when we least expect it, masqued and lithe
Wanting an exploration of Souls
Oblivious, if we’re generous
But still the knife cuts deeply...the blade turns without intention
And I’m bleeding out like a Madrigal

I loved you too much in the Mirrorfall
I found you in the violin’s shadow
Dust and star tears are my witnesses
I love you
My joy and my abyss

like when a balloon ribbon
slips through our fingers

sometimes, you just have to
let go of a relationship

When He saw famine,
He fed them
When He saw plague
He healed them
When He was reviled, persecuted
betrayed, scourged, broken,
impaled and crucified.
He blessed them.
When He bled,
He sanctified them
When He embraced the sins of a wicked world,
He redeemed them