Yesterday I
opened my old
poetry book, when
I found a pressed
autumn leaf.
Its fragrance took
me back in time,
back in that cold rainy day
Then I was so young
and beautiful
when it got caught in
my hair by the
mischievous wind,
bathed in sky's tears.
But now it's dried
And it will never
be as it was before.
Just like me...

when the leaves are turning red,
time is rife with parting words
as we say goodbye instead

of hello to fleeting birds,
and the schooners out at sea.
time is rife with parting words.

hidden in the poetry,
of the gypsy butterflies
and the schooners out at sea.

then return with stronger ties,
to the pattern in the wings
of the gypsy butterflies.

an imagination sings,
bland acoustics of an ode
to the pattern in the wings.

branches creaking secret codes
when the leaves are...

My thoughts are wilting upon the branches of
my reflections, each one a shade different from
the other that like shimmers of a sunset linger.

I wait for the instance when assumption is oxidised
and in heavy nothingness they fall wilted on my
mind, they are cushioned beneath so many more.

My minds creativity has descended and now rotting
in colourful expiration. And for now my thought don't
wave, till the next time buds of thought form and reform.

Counting stars (edited October 18/13)


Looking at the night time sky
Staring at the stars
counting all that we can see
Serenaded by the cars
clouded sky and rainy nights
full moon and sometimes none
I cherish counting stars with you
You are my only one

Making wishes on the shooting ones
Knowing what we see is gone
In the twinkle of an instant
Their light may now be done
In the darkness of a moon filled night
Lying, counting stars with you
It doesn't matter how high we get
we may even just see two

I know we can not count them all
If we stay here 'till we die
The thing that is important
Is that we just give it a try
Each night we begin again
The stars come out to play
Counting stars each night with you
My first wish comes true each day

Imagine, if there's someone there
Counting stars, and we are one
That they look at and imagine
On the far side of the sun
thinking, what is going on
Way out there in space
counting stars, like I with you
brings a smile to my face

Lying here just holding hands
And counting stars we see
Just knowing that this point in time
belongs to you and me
counting some we do not see
A speck in outer space
Lying, counting stars with you
this is my favorite place

I know we can not count them all
If we stay here 'till we die
The thing that is important
Is that we just give it a try
Each night we begin again
The stars come out to play
Counting stars each night with you
My first wish comes true each day





       

Every third day of the third week in July for the last six years
I would crawl out onto the hot, black shingled roof of our white and gray two story shuttered house
and I would try to count the stars in the southern sky

The course grains of each shingle would burn deep gouges into my knees and hands as if each shingle was punishing me for sitting on them.

But I hadn't a care in the world

For I had a reason and a purpose to be there
You see, that third day was my day, that third week was my week..

It was all mine...the day I would lose myself into the universe

As I nestled into my favorite spot, I leaned against the hard wood window frame, not caring for a second how I long i sat there. At that pristine moment, I just began to count the stars

Each single star I counted, whether it be faded as the night or bright as the day,  was surrounded by complete darkness. A pitch black of nothing.
Those were the lonely stars I saw and I breathed once again.

Each single star i counted, was all alone and afraid in the vast deepness of space with nothing to embrace them except for my eyes and my casual memories and I breathed once again.

This is my healing place. My escape from the life threatening complexities that invaded my inner being. I witnessed the thousands of morsels of light in the southern sky as if they were tiny demons millions of light years away, haunting and watching over me each and every night. For they can no longer touch me or break me apart. They will become the broken.

I have found my place of solace on top of that hot, black shingled roof of our white and gray shuttered house. Many peaceful nights I counted the stars, only to lose to count after I reached one hundred. My eyes would glaze over with an undue purpose of peace and I breathed once again as I started to count the stars all over again.

Underneath the ceiling of stars,
Your finger traced constellations
That told legends about Gods.
We'd settle on the swing set
I spent my childhood on
And smoke cigarettes
Talking about how we felt so old
All the while still feeling so young.
And there were moments
When I'd look at you
And marvel at your presence,
Just thanking the universe
For being privileged to love you.

None of it feels real but rather surreal 
as my memories fade into dreams.
The future becomes the present and the present past,
As my memories fade into dreams

I feel lost in a fog, dazed and confused
Confused how I woke up feeling so bruised
I've lost all feeling in my past it would seem
As my past becomes a memory that fades to a dream.

Now that I'm awake it's hard to recall
Standing with caution, afraid I might fall.
Dreams fade into memories that can't be kept,
Memories of dreams, dreams that long to resurrect.

Resurrect from within, a life full of gladness.
Putting to death my sorrows and sadness.
I start to recover from the battle lost
My memories fading like dreams, is the cost.

For shortly after waking, dreams fade away.
In the same manner my memories won't stay. 
I fight to remember, I struggle to hold on
But lo, quick approaching is a burning new dawn.

And with every new coming dawn
Are my thoughts left wandering on,
Warm sun light so brightly gleaming,
My memories quickly fading as I awake from dreaming.