I love her.
No not ******* worldly,
But softly, purely , celestially.
Obsessively?
Not necessarily, just completely,
selfishly and I'm sorry.
I love her unconditionally, some say unconventionally.
But they don't understand me.
Yes...I love her.
Most spiritually, asexually, platonically and wholly.
I love her, truly, honestly, musically and poetically...
She doesn't have to love me.

I searched inside myself to realize
there is nothing left to find.
A heart of stone and eyes that never cry,
a confused and twisted mind.
My soul is cold and black as starless nights, never meant to shine.

I know i am just a no one born on forsaken lane.
Belonging nowhere except to the house of pain.
There is no peace within me, no compassion i can claim.
A ******* of the world is my bane.
Will someone tell me my name?
I am a man without a name.


I searched inside myself to realize...there's no one left to find.

I was talkin' with Lacey some time ago.
The conversation took us hear and there,  to and fro.
'Til fin'ly I said."Lacey, how come you don't love me no mo'?"
Lacey replied. "You ask me that now eh? What brought that to mind?
The reason is now lost somewhere in time.
In any case mate, I think we'll both be fine.
But since we're atit, 'ow come you neva loved me?"
Lacey, it's not that I didn't ya see.
I love ya now, jus at the time, I had no idea of how.
A moment of silence fell then Lacey took a deep breath and said ..."Well."

Thinkin' bout that conversation we had some time ago.
That took Lacey and me hear and there, to and fro.
There's one thin' I'd like her t' know.
If she were here I'd hold her and neva let her go.

I am tired.
Tired of the greed, the materialism,
the artificial realism.
Medicines to cope, false hope..opioids
the killer dope.

I am bored.
Bored with the faithless optimistics, party goers bathing in that sea of chaos...politics.

I am tired.
Tired of the hunger, and the homelessness that at times feeds glory seeking kindness.

I am bored.
Bored with the phones...the internet.
Allowing people to interact without having to connect.

I am tired.
Tired of the why and the what for,
lies of peace masking the truth of war.

I am so very tired and bored but
mostly with me.
More so with myself than with other people, politics and technology.
Sometimes I wish life would just set me free.

To see that which can not be visualized.
'Tis the white calla lillies dancing in her eyes.
Doing as jasmine has forever done.
Basking in the rays of the yellow sun.
Thoughts drift in fields of alstroemeria.
Different places, different faces...
yet familiar.
Loves flower blooming lighting the world.
Transforming her to a woman from a girl.
And with the coming of the morning dawn.
There she lies in the green pasture of daw-gawn.

I wrote of love as if it were something I could share.
I said i do and i did but now i don't care.
I had it once and with it nothing could compare.
Now my desert heart beats in vain.
For there is no life here to sustain.
This hollow shell is all of me that remains.
Strangely enough there's no room for joy or pain.
Still I search the skies desperately  for...well.

A star shining in tranquility.

So, explain to me then,
why art thou concerned about my pen?
When, if ever, has it stroked
against thee sin? Or any of thou kin?
What have i done to offend that
to my business thou should attend?
I write only to transcend those who would **** and condemn.
In the hope that all would
comprehend i pen in love not to condescend but to make all... my friend.

How thou might see it...well that depends.

Twenty and two years have passed, feels like a millennia.

I left my heart and soul on the dock of  Palau, Sardinia.

I can remember my love and I bathing in the Mediterranean Sea.

Love making under a midnight sky, the moon, my Sophie and me.

She kissed me with a passion that was non contested.

Held me with a strength of faith and none could test it.

I can see her dancing at the Piazza due Palme where we use to

meet friends and mingle.

She always said whenever she looked at me her insides would tingle.

It must have been true for her brown eyes would shine…

It never occurred to me that she would not always be mine.

I don’t know why I thought about her so much today…But anyway.

It’s been twenty and two years since Sardinia.

Yes, it be two annum since You, i befriended.
Who could have foreseen the
tragic way in which we ended?

You, the quiet rain to mine hearts desert,
grief chained.
I, the stroke to thine ego hurt
where the dark knight remained.

Once i be thy angel with lost wings.
Guardian of secrets that play thine hearts strings.

Now lost and again wandering in the desert of pain.
By mine own hand...silenced the rain.

I beseeched thee to return to mine eyes.
But invain for the sky would not cry.
Yet in this morn I awoke to a new day.
For thou hast graced me with thy return and I wish thee to stay.

Sunless days, moonless nights.
What's love? Tell me, what's right?
Where's grace? Is peace coming?
No hope. My heart's numbing.

I'm lost.

What's life without death?
We die with every breath.
Seems all we know is hate.
From this is there escape?

I'm lost.

People take without giving.
No regard for the living.
Hand in hand walking beside darkness.
Please tell me, can we stop this?

I'm lost...

I sometimes misinterpret my
guilt.
For my sadness often has me inebriated with some kind of sick joy.
Maybe i am deserving of this...
melancholia.

These are the eyes of disarray.
These are the eyes that weep at the break of day.
These are the eyes that saw the world change.
Whilst waiting still... for the world to change.
These are the eyes that cried paisley tears and
have done so for years and years.
These eyes have seen a stranger blue.
These eyes have seen yet have not a clue.
These are the eyes of dismay.
These are the eyes that filled with rain
when the rain silenced and went away.
These are the eyes of all four seasons.
These are the eyes of no rhyme or reason.

At first I didn't understand,
But now I know why
I am a stranger here in this land. I was here once before.
I would spew my heart all
over this poetic floor.

And people...you would acknowledge my pain.
Some of you would even offer me
to come in from the rain.

And I loved you for it and love you still.
But only a shell of that person remains, with little left to ****...
and yet here i am.