I am king and lord, above all else I soar;

Wings span forth against azure skies

Below me stretches earth, e'ery tower, tree my berth,

From my domain none escapes my peering eyes.

Hours-long my forays, back warmed by suns rays,

For the sight and stench of death I peer,

Carrion to you; to me, feast more true,

I sail as a reaper to far or near.

Putrid flesh and bile, for others rot and vile,

My feast this sickened, rotting waste,

Let nothing moulder, my place as Vulture,

Then I return to the sky's embrace.

I found a felled tree laying down the hill -

Its roots exposed, green lingered still -

I wondered then how come

It persisted thus though undone.

I pondered a while at the oak, now laid low,

And questioned as to why it persevered so,

Its trunk on the ground, leaves in the grass,

Persisting in spite of what had passed.

Though consigned to a fate so unfit,

For months beyond, still green persists -

The fallen oak, slowly fading to brown,

Never once admitting its place on the ground.

Now on the path lays a log by the way,

Hollowing, rotting, decomposing each day.

But scattered round through soil peeking through,

Saplings come out, bringing life once anew.

Shrill

The sound of locusts crying

Oppressed

Beneath the boiling August sun

Cracked

The earth opens in a plea

Clear

The sky shines it's gaze below.

Mild

The gusts with tepid breath

Soaring

Dust, birds, and clouds on updraft

Looming

The clouds growing, building, tall

Silent

The gambled wait for rain.

Sudden

The cold, harsh downdraft

Rumbling

The throat of the storm awakened

Faded

The horizon behind virgas tempting

Ominous

Lightning's daylight flash

Pelting

Drops like bullets falling

Blinding

Sheets of cold, heavy rain

Over

The storm behind, thunder faded

Strangled

Humidity returns again.

Scathing the burning flames

Which light my mortal mind

Waste upon the fettered banes

With which i pass my time

Hallowed moments silent spent

Churning thoughts and endless harms

Each second glance a dark descent

To shattered memories alarmed

Mouldered feelings resurrect

Beckoning out deep regrets

Peace of mind once circumspect

Now blithe shame begets.

Here i sit, a linguist, but have naught to say

Like the tobacco in my pipe, words fade

And my mind empties, like the smoke i exhale

Always, before now, I've had a thought

A feeling

A muse

Ideas

Wants

Desires

Goals

Dreams

I have now a bowl of ash

In my hand

And heart

To want to write, yet still

Words hang like lifted smoke

Loosely floating until

They fade again......

Have i naught to write?

Have i not the mind?

Like spent *****, burnt

And crisped to ash,

Or merely strained to tight to breathe and grow?

Poetry or prose,

I sit like fire spent

Ash-buried coals

Nothing writ.

The moon upon your lips, The stars within your eyes –

The night’s breeze flowing in your hair –

My world in your eclipse, ever tantalized

My heart – designed upon your snare.

Had I gold in measure, Aurellian shimmer,

And silver, jewels, or yet more;

Had I endless treasure, it be all the dimmer,

Against your every deep allure!

Though strained within surrep titiously hollow lies

Sense then beyond me slip, my heart then shall capsize.

To stave my heart from sure despair,

Ne’er then gaining cessure, rather left to tremor –

I surrender leisure – grace me then your glimmer.

Want of you I’ll ne’er endure.

I remember the touch of your hand
Still like a soft mist touching my skin
As we held each other on that hill
In the morning, in the fog
Warm water around each other
And the bubbling of the igneous spring
Steam surrounding your eyes like some veil
Beauty eternal, graceful, and serene.

I remember too your hair
Blowing in the wind freely
The salt breeze filling our breath
The horizon burnt in orange
Cool breeze dancing off the waves
Gulls gleefully cry above
The bobbing of the ferry
Steady, your head on my shoulder.

I remember more when I was sick
And chills racked me with exhaustion
You stayed that night, holding me close
The hum of traffic around our room
Your heat was warmer than the tea you made
And your breath a lullaby
Lights of cars flashing in the room
Stars in your russet eyes.

I remember Christmas morning,
Our coffee steaming in the veranda
The yuletide silence as we sat together
The bay and piers alight in flaming red
Your yukata flowed gracefully
And the sun rested on your cheeks
Lit as well as the hills around the sea
Your smile, a pearl among them.

I remember the last time
Neither of us slept
Two losses in one night
One a friend
One you, for longer than I thought
The beginning of three years
But I still remember you
You cried, I held you
I remember and always will.