It started with a thought -
a solitary lie.
Cunning in it's deceit,
no freedom, lest I die.

No normal pangs of hunger -
gorging beast within my face.
Heaving it up in sacrificial abjure,
a rejected fall from grace.

An act of complete surrender -
heavy pressure in my chest.
The beat continues beating;
Yet I fear it will arrest.

Mirrors turned to enemies;
A smile turned to grief.
A day without ingestion
becomes a dangerously sweet relief.

Abandoning dreams to disappear -
affliction taking hold.
Imperfection sought to fix, with
restricted weight controlled.

It started with a thought -
a solitary lie.
Cunning in it's deceit,
no freedom, lest I die.

Night assaults in charcoal smudges,
repeatedly cloaking the horizon in darkness.
Hollow ruins coat the empty space in agony
as loneliness clings to every surface,
breathless in the brewing alchemy shift.

The barren and jagged mountains,
though cold and bitter in shadow,
are abruptly caressed by a balmy breeze
exhaling secret incantations into the dampened surroundings.

Beneath the heavy silence of night,
blankets of celestial fires and moonlight foil
spill a summoned revolt across the chasm.
A measured mist of cooled water drops
ventures a dance along a cluster of murky trees
at the edge of a hushed clearing.

Beyond, a presence, plagued and exposed
by the arduous web of darkness,
beats a crippled, even antsy rhythm.
The cessation of its burden is nigh;
the emancipation of daylight - a fated end.

He was known for a puzzling idée fixe
for literature in an array of topics;
Not a citizen of particular themes.
Given to a pursuit of this literary ENTERPRISE,
he would hermit away and ravenously read,
which left him with a pale VISAGE.
He'd dealt with comments of its PERNICIOUS effects,
putting a BLEMISH on his social standing.
Yet, it didn't DAMPEN his spirit.
He didn't shy from upgrading to a learned man.
A mixture of books granted him entrance to
TRAVERSE an ever transforming road,
for which weather had no dampener on.
He was a SENTRY of his own mind,  
following the ASTRAL bodies in the night sky,
to channel knowledge into dreams.

darkened window panes
etched with multiple colors
bright, though dim within these eyes

emotions kept hidden
etched with inescapable pain
alive, yet dead within this heart

never knowing where to go
etching lines through these streets
crowded with faceless people

Excitement pumped throughout my palms.
Sitting on the table,
I waited for a sign from you.
Hope lingered,
if only I would have known.

There was so much to look forward to
in this little room.
So many dreams to be had
by this small existence.
Only time would tell.

We held our breath
to hear our future.
Tears and anger followed.
There was no sign.
No sound.
No beat.
No life.

I’ll never forget the defeat
the denial
the devastation
the death.
You had barely just begun.
Now you will never be.

I felt it was my fault.
I could have done better.
I could have dreamed bigger.
I could have wished harder.
I could have…
done nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.

I think about you often.
What would you look like?
What would you become?
Do you think of me too?
I’d like to think we’d be friends,
past the titles we were originally given,
but it will never be.

You left me that day.
It wasn’t your fault,
but I weep every year.
Understanding has never come.
My heart holds you still,
my joy.

eyes softly caressing
fingertips alighting in goosebumps
whispers beckon the night

all are bridges to you

Imposing green,
a lonely stretch
into the streaking sky.

Strong and steady,
never wavering,
even in the gales.

Crisp leaves
flutter and shift,
always reaching up.

In a garden filled by inky night
she reads by fairy firelight
with dreams of magic and of cheer,
in a land when fantasy draws near.

Where unicorns flutter in mid-air,
and fairies shimmer with stardust hair.
Dragons twirl brazenly in a silky clouded sky,
while knights suited on horseback stoutly ride by.

Grinning trolls armored with riddles creep
to divert from their overgrown castle's keep.
The moon princess softly trills a serenade,
and frolics in an open cornflower filled glade.

Flaxen mermaids with encrusted combs of stone
sit on tufts of a verdant seaweed throne
whispering tales of prized treasures aglow
buried deep beneath in the sea below.

Stars blanket in the velvet overhead
as she sits and savors the legends read.
The sights found in writings all retold
are worth more to her than pirate's gold.

verdant terra firma
deep abyss of azure seas
splashing colors ablaze
on a sphere, crafted in chronicles
woven fabric to shelter architectural arrangement
elixir in distilled scenery
a lasting preservation

I'll sing for you a symphony
    and strum the strings in beats
    an inspired grandiose melody
    of lifelong rhapsody entirely
    four movements my heart completes.

I'll sing for you a chanson
    full of lyrics affecting and pure
    my solo voice defies easy scansion
    to develop an embracing expansion
    admiration is mine to ensure.

I'll sing for you an anthem
    devotion to you alone
    your sacred being beyond fathom
    ardent, I'm held for ransom
    devotion to cherish and own.

I'll sing for you a love song
    every word flows right and true
    to croon an acoustic-filled levity
    with a phrase ensured in brevity
    for your heart I will win anew.

my bedroom mirror is broken -
an arrant illustration of torment
wrists landmark a spectacle carved in crimson blood
damaged mutterings seeking acceptance
darkness in the corners of self
rapacious hunger cut off by unfilled desire
ribs devoured and exposed, but covered
hiding pain in plain sight
famished; none the wiser
with a cracked precision, I smile

millions of multi-shaded visages:
prisoners of coordinated sale
stolen, sea-bound accedence
- casualties for an avaricious pursuit

biting blows stricken upon aching backs
cracks etched in crimson blood
their surrender commanded
- breath stolen for ownership

callused steps, an abeyance walking
bruised with bitter warnings
uttered in acidic oaths
- ebony sacrificed for gold

Fiery, striking tips painted
along a destination uncharted.
Staggering twists and turns -
tracing a path in the hillside -
snake-like in it's stretch.
A softly rolling landscape
following the winding trail.

A path less traveled -
hidden kismet in the shadows.
A journey burdened with turns
and twists. Narrow in sight
beyond the varied curves.
The bends eventually will arrest,
and lead me to your door.

pen to paper
joy in the craft
don't lose momentum

a poet should prize
more than the analects
they put to a page

mark my word:
live in colors caught
expose and labor in the flow
sagacity is the destination

wings unfurled in protection
eroded from surrounding rudiments
along a beacon of illumination

visage composed and serene
branching arms cradling cleaving souls
afraid to fade into eternal rest

gifts born from remembrance
weeping, wilting, worn
beneath a wandering ivy-covered guide

quiescent consignor of peace
beyond the cessation of life
- suspended in advocation

Perched along a limb
in the darkening, mercurial eve,
the trickster hovers in mania.

Wingspan iridescent in the shadows,
he stands sharp in his observation
blending in to the dark night.

An indomitable eye in focus,
unceasing with his hoarse call -
Bitter and biting in sound.

He balefully takes flight
gliding over his bounteous kingdom,
secure in the wily, swindling con.

A harbinger of evil,
an omen follows his glide:
the reaper is soon to follow.

The sudden silence provokes
a chill down the spine
curling 'round in stirring fright.

Taking a warlike stance,
he circles over his unsuspecting prey.
Venomous in his feast and descent.

A scythe, sharpened steel,
gripped tightly in bloodless hands;
a lone cloaked being whispers commands.

Rumbles strike open the dirt
in the graveyard beside the oak.
Silhouettes manifest, crawling through the night.

The trickster surveys the siege,
as screams rent through the sky.
The eve of madness is upon us.

Solitude behind the disguise.
Displaced smiles,
we see only in eyes.

Will we ever reach out
to each other in friendship?
Or will fear guide our hands to our sides?

Necessary distance,
alone in a spaced out crowd.
Walking hurried, no time.

Safety in isolation.
Contact no longer needed,
in keeping with the paradigm

Fear in high numbers
greatly denied for a moment,
placated with guarantees.

Denied closeness,
weeping for our past.
Do we invite to death's door to appease?

a hushed midsummer ardor
toes deep in sand and brine

a breathless caress undercover
reflecting the skylines burning line

their cloaked embrace encircling
a misting seas whispered shrine

Dawn breaks through the darkened night
exhaling beams of sprinkled light
across dense blankets of snowy white.

Naked, bony limbs start snapping
reaching arms upward while napping
allotting chilled moss to lay wrapping.

Frosted crystalline water awaiting
the ice-kissed surroundings, while creating
melancholy moans of biting wind deflating.

Craggy hilltops bordering, in sharp peaks,
glistening barren landscapes in streaks
as relentless Winter hibernation bespeaks.

Heavy ink-tinged clouds drop
dew splattered attacks across my visage.
Drifting arms splayed in surrender, I
embrace the crush of brokenness
that envelops an armored heart.

A hollowness drills in dull drumbeats
in the pitter-patter of beaded drops.
It's a welcome retreat, stinging of sacrifice,
though annums have expired, behind guises of healing,
I harbor the chills of loss without outward censure.

Numb epigrams, spoken multi-fold to my ear,
bear breakage behind closed doors.
Planning to assuage the bruise
and restrain myself, a burden of knowledge
that you still left, and the falling rain caught on...

Skies with brushes, painted
in deep reds. Pillowed clouds
in shades and hues, comfortable
in their floating presence.

Sloping mountains in solid strength
and character, standing guard -
Witnessing the alchemy
in the pace of the day.

Movement of tides, with fluctuated flow
of sands swirling. Bubbly and boundless,
the peaceful blue is untouched
by the capsule of time.

Mornings breath in vivid decoration,
graciously beginning a jubilee.
We sit, watching and waiting
in nature’s solace again.

Blossoming moonlit spirit -
a sea of sacred lotus.
A whole heavenly creation
built up from muddy depths.
Sanctuary in the resurrection -
A beautiful revival.

The dappled, grey sky fractures,
bringing a petrichor-scented breeze through my window,
mimicking the torment brewing inside.
I lay here, flesh frozen and cracked,
staring unseeing at the empty space I'll leave behind.
The spartan walls crowd in,
circling to compact my overworked senses
from bleeding out of my chest.

The loss parts way to darkness,
accented in sharp, stinging barbs
striking at my once treasured memories.
Holding my breath to stave off the pain,
I drift sluggishly, my arms heavy as lead.

Wrenching air into my starving lungs,
I'm held anchor in this cold prison.
The dreary world passes by
with ascribed demise marked ahead.
My eyes fall closed in cessation,
a submission from lent aid.
A bandage awaits beyond the graveyard.

Beauty is in the
Eye of the beholder, they say.
Another being might not
Undo my reluctance.
The hours pass by with no recourse,
Yet you stay, and

I’m relieved.
Seeing your truth before me,

My pleasure is yours to command.
In curves and sweeps, you take me
Near to Heaven -
Enamored, I am.

Intimacy found in mystery,
released despite the forbidden.
Eyes, joined in distance,
replies acknowledged in hidden embraces.

Pining turned to fixation,
blinded by the passionate
drive to completely consume;
Burned by expressive awareness.

The journey of a thousand memories,
whispered in late night phone calls.
Stolen kisses, frenzied then tender -
confidences only two can tell.

Behind closed private doors,
desirable physical caresses
are uncovered; Expressively debauched,
in the eyes of pledges broken.

Ties bound to one, divided
by an intensive linking,
that can never freely breathe deep.

Sunlight streams through a crystallized window pane
flinging fragments of light across the wall.
Clear, my eyes take in this unclad display
as the ticks of the clock mark a lifeline of passing.
Shadows begin to flee the assailing of light;
Inner angles and crevices of darkness taken over,
quietly seeking to displace my blurred blackness.

Naked in pining, my exposed loneliness allays,
striking in exchange to the gracility of the dawn.
Beams ***** my furtive senses,
caressed with enravishment in every breath and sigh.
Seconds pass, keepsakes pass in slides
quickly moving against my focus;
Remembrances of happiness and treasure.

A elevating breeze floats in
as I crack the casement to the outside world.
The pane, chilly along my fingertips.
Apart in my seclusion and isolation,
rivulets of moisture streak down my face,
after the frailty and withdrawal dictated after loss
bows to the command for closeness.

A whisper of covenants drift along the air,
carried by a past, gentle announcement given freely.
It directly corrodes this battered brokenness.
I inhale the sweetness of paradise lost,
and step forth into the clear morning
with certitude inscribed on an arrow in my breast.
I begin my day, without you, again.

With honeyed comments, you absorb adulation in vain;
Drinking it in like a congratulatory champagne.

Down your nose, you smoothly cajole;
Deft at choreographing leverage to reach a goal.

The effete man you put forth is cast in boorish airs -
stealthily exuding to foil all players.

Irreproachable character, you claim in spades,
but to athwart interference you throw up blockades.

Speaking in bitter tones, speeches full of lies suppressed -
churlishly angered with those that protest.

blackened universe
sprinkled with centuries
alight in resplendent diamonds

veiled celestial archway
dancing against the velvet darkness
an endless sea of origination

a luminous heaven
vast in unknown desires
deep exhalation in the abyss

skies blanketed in wisdom
arrested beauty in light
I intone, in reverence

Time -
a high-priced commodity,
leaves us with a shortened
supply of memories
until it's our turn
to pass on.

Death -
the fickle fiend
leaves a gnawing ache
inside our brains,
stinging with hurt until
there's a mountain left of
time.

striking cityscapes
a focus of symmetry
in slicked surroundings
wet with salty tears
escape in views
solitaire existence; crowded
path to the unknown
follow at your own risk

Etchings of sincere thoughts
written down in time
so not to abandon their meanings.

Explosive feelings
falling ardently to paper
agonized with each ache and affliction.

We right any injustice,
defend each analysis,
and plead toward understanding.

Amid life's occurrences,
our audience takes in our wisdom
studying with rapt attention.

Silence -
The sun breaks through the darkened sight
bringing the songs of birds,
and opening the world with light.

A cloudless morning
dressed with fields of flowers.
Each moment different,
and each one is ours.

Overhead the sun rises,
covering with a warm embrace,
always loving what she's doing
with a smile upon her face.

Stones of shape
inscribed with adages
and memories of lives spent.

Sinking lawn
mossy earth surrounding
damp and concave they allay forever.

Dark and deserted
ceasing age they linger
no one concerns to bother anymore.

The day pulses within budding blue eyes.
She lays solo in the rickety bed -
a hand-me-down from a cousin removed.
Dust bunnies swirl and dance overhead
in the early morning sun, beckoning her awake.
The chill in the air sends goosebumps
past her threadbare nightgown
worn years past it's expiry date.
Peeling off her sprawling quilt,
she joins the already burdened dawn.

With noiseless footfalls, she creeps
to the crippled chair in the corner
where her favorite grass-colored smock
hangs - a token of love stitched
by cramped aged fingers, now silent.
Creaks echo, sounding as bullets, awakening
the aching chamber housing two generations.

The task to break their fast falls to her:
the sizzle of scent surrounds the kitchen berth;
A familiar routine partaken in duet.
Gratitude is given, utterances exchanged,
then abandoned to her role of domesticity.  
Lather and rinse, plates come clean
- a grind that is chanted again and again.

Deepening her breath, a sigh is summoned out.
Slipping away is a fixture encored:
a record scratching in her head.
Bypassing the large crack in the porch,
she tumbles down the steps of grandfather's house.
Each clip and clop wrench draining blows
to the descending wooden flight.
She walks down the pebbled driveway,
scratching raw the bottoms of her unshod feet.

A solitary spot calls from an aged oak tree
- branches droopy and weighed down
with a verdant embrace of an ivy blanket.
Ideas and dreams flare here, spent and shaped
- a sagging memento of her station.
Hours drift by, the warm summer day
aids like a balm to a frayed heart.
Swinging from her childhood tire swing,
careworn from similar seasonal passing,
she waits for her time in the sun.

Assembled seashells
glittering the sandy shore,
lie as trophies from an ocean storm
shifting from deep to shallow.
Bringing fortune in symmetry -
jogging memories of past journeys
dropped from the energy
fueled by the waves.
Cradled in beds of seaweed,
salted and dried, deserted on the shore.
Tales of the sea's mysterious voice,
whispering secrets in your ear.
Gems from the unchanging sea -
a display I collect to treasure.