Words aren’t spoken.
Words aren’t written.
They are felt.
Words are unknown.
Words are dead.
Until we come to terms with them.
Words are heavy.
Sometimes bold.
To speak is an art
that everyone fails.
****** by words is wretched more.
But they can heal.
They eventually do.
Tend to wounds as no-one can.
Oh words can bring to life
and send to sleep
a person’s nightmare or dream.

My lover of the stars
My giver of refreshing light
My singer of the afterlife
I want you tonight
Caressing me with midnight breeze
And bittersweet symphonies
Reminding me what I cast,
Of the life I've lived,
All the times I did
And never been.
The illusion of life came to me
I was only five
It whispered to me
Told me the way
And to never forget its face.
Now I take my place
My wanderings took me away
I understand what I was told long ago
And why I see the world this way.
I've entertained the scholar and the soldier
I've tasted poverty and grace
I've wept and smiled on many days,
Now I look in your eyes
I shrink under their might
And I'm raised beyond any height
I see galaxies and eternity in your sights.
Be with me tonight,
Master of my dreams
Healer of screams
Come with me
All of my being
Let us breathe
Show me a taste of freedom
A feeling of complete
My inner being

Oceanscapes
Followed by swirled green
And jagged cliff face
Pinched between index and thumb
A child's hand
Small but fully in command
Sits the glass sphere
A world of fantasies
Ruled by the little king
He keeps his sphere in line
With all his other worldly glass
He counts and names them off
Declaring law on his domain
His galaxy until he grows up some day
He'll think of other things then
Until he grows old
And sees his old marbles
Will he wonder what happened,
To his peoples he created?
Or think himself an old man full of flight and fancy?
I hope he remembers
For the marbles sake

While falling down this dark hole
I stopped screaming and began to wonder
As dreams and memories became the same,
As voices soothed me from far away
Asking if I was really awake,
Was this pit reality?

A woman's voice so comforting,
Like cool ocean breeze providing certainty,
Washing over me in the dark
Is this memory?
Kindness drifting like fall leaves,
Gentle rains soaking parched feet,
Giving relief where I didn't know I need.

Falling erases memories
It scrubs clean the warmth
Leaving cracks that bleed
I've gone so far the ether speaks to me
Bringing me a cool sip of relief
Wet my aching throat
So my voice doesn't join the myriads of misery

The Ancients knew,
Tartarus was at our feet
The rivers of mortal life passing by without ease
Our shadows pulling another way
Bent on knees before the stars,
Asking for reprieve.

Hell isn't fire and brimstone
It's life unbelieved.

There is the poet who writes
Of broken hearts,
Love gone right and awry,
Then there is a poet who tells
Of lonely days,
Life's litte mysteries,
Another poet still will sing
Of beauty in nature's glory,
Of the seasons and roses,
The last poet will hardly be one at all
Not the most lyrical
Writing a soliloquy
From pondering love to moonlit nights
This poet will drown in thoughts
If you be a poet ask yourself one thing,
What do I leak?
Blood or poetry