I took to the shore my final day
my final few hours
the Sun was low and the breeze had a coolness
though it was blistering hot earlier
I was watching an osprey returning from the ocean
a sizeable fish in it's claws
the beach was sparse this late
I relaxed and enjoyed the sounds and sheer beauty
of the Outer Banks
from my left I heard a light gasp that startled me
as I hadn't noticed her approaching
she spotted a lettered olive
as the sea gently lapped the shore
it was rolling back towards the next wave
but she managed to grab it just in time
a look of delight crossed her face
glowing like the Sun itself
'Nice find
those are tough to come by in that condition' I said
'they are my favorite' she responded with a smile
her eyes sparkled blue and her auburn air
tied in a bobble hung far down her back
'nice to meet someone who still appreciates
the beauty of a sea shell'
I was hoping for a name but one didn't come
instead,  
she sent a gaze that ignited not shivers
but an energy down my spine
'If only everyone knew the beauty that lives here
It's nice to meet another who sees as well'
I started to respond, but she turned and continued down the beach
her white kimono gently flowing with the ocean breeze
appeared to be from a time past
I turned my attention briefly to a group of pelicans
playing 'follow the leader' just above the waves
I could not let her go
I gathered enough courage to continue this chance meeting
but when I turned, she had disappeared
impossible
we are no less than 50 yards from the path off the beach
I just saw her less than 30 seconds...
I called out...but felt foolish
I tried to gather my thoughts
a light voice...or thought came as the breeze quieted
my name is Eve...
I walked the shoreline until it became too dark to stay
bewildered...I bid goodbye to the ocean and turned to leave
something caught my eye in the sand
amongst the thousands of shells on display
there lay a beautiful, perfect lettered olive
I will hold onto this one

when your dreams
are where you'd rather be
it is time
to live them

I walk
head down through the bitter cold
only a light buckskin for warmth
there is little food
and no time for rest

I am near the front
no idea how many are lost
the old, the sick
the little ones

the memory of these days
along the trail of tears
will die
like the burning embers of a once mighty fire

these horrors will not be spoken
in the teachings of those whose greed
and cold hearts
outweighed their compassion
whose concrete jungles mar
the once majestic landscape

the years of separation grows
but the atrocities shall never be vanquished
in the realm of the spirit world
and those who initiated the culling
pay their penance
and walk the trail for eternity

i sense the walls of sanity cracking
unseen
trying to hide in the foundation
trying to escape
but there is nowhere to run
the clues begin to reveal themselves
we drive silent into the country
my Father and i rarely spoke
revealed our fears
our doubts
ourselves
but today i saw a frightened man
a man dealing with an enemy he couldn't control
'I worked hard my whole life. This is not fair'
he fought back tears
but i could not

my dreams
they are rekindled nightmares
of my most negative bits of life
they move like thick syrup along a cold plate
drawn out slowly with no resolution in sight
bringing me to the edge of madness
and then
I am awakened with a thud
as if I have fallen from the sky

perhaps a mechanism
or some caring soul slapping me into consciousness
to save me from the real dark stuff

I've experienced the other side in many ways
I've been touched
attacked
threatened
I have also heard the gentle voices of distant souls
allowing me a moment of connection  
I am not quite sure how dreams are intertwined
but I am quite sure that they are

are there shadows
behind that light
are there tears unseen
in pitch of night
do you awaken eager
to face the day
has your heart been taken
or led astray
talk to me
without the smile
set the shadows free
the moon is ours
for just a while
the Sun will always be

they dance on the edge of nearly
unperceived breezes
the sighs of dead men's final breath
that follow me to the edge
of the thickets
many lay at the feet of those who wish to taste death
but not know it
brothers in arms
who cross from the horrors often placed upon them by man
into a swath of light that holds no measure of time or space
or pain
they are free to walk from the remnants that linger in living consciousness
yet remain
tied to the moment of their crossing
the essence of their love for kindred souls

i bought a wall clock while at the beach
with a lighthouse on it
i put a battery inside before finding it a home
it's a bit noisy and i have it laying on one of my
dining room chairs
until a home becomes available
not sure how that will go
since none of my paintings
or other oddities
will voluntarily give up their spot
i really didn't need the clock
but i liked it...so i bought it
logical...yes?
maybe i should shop for a wall extension
i have asked myself 100 times
why i haven't removed the battery
today i turned it over so that the front is facing up
this fixed the noisy part of the problem
by muffling the ticking
in the cushion of the seat
i suppose i could just remove the battery anyway
since i never really use an unhung clock to tell the time of day
but something is keeping me from doing that
something tells me that the clock won't start again
should i remove the battery
and those ships depending on the lighthouse
may be forever lost at sea
but what happens when the battery dies?
i suppose i will find out
if i live that long

it is cold again
drizzling as he enters his building
clutching the 2 bags of groceries
the 3 year old stares from the upstairs
apartment window
wondering why the old man doesn't
play with him anymore
he re-heats and finishes off the coffee
from last night
throws a tv dinner in the microwave
and watches highlights of the games on youtube
since they dropped the local sports from Sling
he checks his bank balance again online
listens to his favorite ghost stories podcast
then wonders why he hasn't planned for
his burial
or cremation
cheaper to dump my ashes in the Atlantic
he decides
he ponders many things but mainly what the future holds for his kids
he does this almost every night
can't understand why they took the vaccine against his pleas...
to get along? Make things easier? Have that card for the cruises?
1 A.M. and a few hits to help him sleep
a final ****
but will hold off the flush until morning
so as to not wake the older woman upstairs
the ghosts are getting closer these days
they scare the **** out of the neighbor's cat
when he comes to visit
he's off the spirit box since October
when they scared the **** out of him
when he saw one go by and call his name
they know it's coming soon
he just wishes they'd let him leave quietly

rendezvous 502
made it through
is this happening to you?

on the stool the Mantis sat
I watched him for a good while
until he turned to face the piano
stretched his incredibly long legs and arms
and began to play
a version of colorblind so intensely beautiful
it brought tears to my shallow eyes
and warmth to my frozen heart
just after the final note echoed down the hallway
he snagged a fly that had fallen
under the hypnotic beauty of his play
he turned his head in that peculiar way they do
and gazed at me
blinked one giant eye and said
'never assume'

I want to live at half speed
to absorb more fully
your beauty
your laughter
your love
to allow the view to settle
the words to sink deep
but alas
I would fall behind you
tomorrow's sunrise would arrive without me
and I would lose you
to time

some dark
some bright
some come to light
during the wee hours of night
some crystal clear
some just out of sight
but all are real and all are right
as I slip into the fearless flight
of the mind's eye

I cannot remember the memories I forgot
I'm sure they are there somewhere
between despair and uncaring
un sharing them
thus
they have diminished
like unfinished furniture
left in the cellar
dwellers of the dark

Monk Taio Kaneta

In everyday life
we sacrifice our need to feel
without even knowing it

they came to check on me
room 222
I had tried to enter room 555 earlier
and the guest reported me to the front desk
who had, in turn called the Sheriff's office
the guest stated that she normally wouldn't have called
but I had such a menacing look that it frightened her
almost a look of...evil
it was 3:33am and the hotel was quiet
they knocked but got no answer
they had the front desk call the room
still no answer
they finally got a pass-key from security
and entered the room to find me passed out on the couch
they checked for a pulse
laughed it off and left me to my dreams
all of this save a vague recollection of being at the bar had left me

and what a dream
I was back in the bar
in the midst of a heated argument over religion, God, evil...
it was close to turning violent when a few cops arrived
they arrested me for drunk and disorderly
but let the other guy slide
I hollered and screamed on the way to the station
even threatened their lives
they just laughed...an evil laugh

I passed out before reaching the station
and in the dream I woke up in my cell
and then immediately and in actuality, awoke in my room
it was 5:55am and I wanted to hit the road by 6am
to get a jump on traffic
I got a quick shower, packed and was at the desk in 20 minutes

The desk agent, after wishing me a safe trip
began to apologize for the incident the previous night
and said it happens all the time
I asked what incident she was referring to
she said 'well, going to the wrong room by mistake'
I advised her she must have me confused with another guest
'oh no' she said...'I'm quite sure...room 222, correct?'
yes...but
'and so unfortunate for the 2 officers who took you to your room
and came back when you were found wandering in the halls trying to get into other guestrooms. Well, just a short time later on their very next call they arrested someone else who grabbed one of their guns and shot both of them. Isn't that awful. I forgot to mention...we dropped the charge for the drink you had just ordered before the officers arrived in the bar...so you have a credit of 6.66 on your card. Come see us again Mr Gates.'
That's Bates...

beyond the shadow of superficial words
lay the soul of a doubted hesitation
a great barrier stands between skimmed thoughts
and the core of the mind
the world is a falsehood of plastic glances
and mirrored sentences

through dismal days and longer nights
and the shielded minds that come and go
i've come to accept with lonely pain
only mine i know

and the voices come at night
from the sink
from the half light
of a half dream
from the phone unanswered
chapstick
echoes from another space
perhaps another time
to show us glimpses
clues
visions of apocalypse
do we wish to play
and what are we willing to sacrifice
roaches in a jar
this is your wake-up call

at the outset of self foundation
i am bewildered into self containment
for nothing i see is me
and what i am now
lay naked and reluctant
to seek the unattainable goal
contentment
which is in itself
confusion

you toy with me
distant friend
fingers through my hair
whispers as you dart about
our secret game will remain
our secret
but I must know if you are child or adult
woman or man
past lover in this or an earlier life
reveal to me the answer my spirit
so that you may walk in my dreams
and open the door to both worlds

I made my way
finally
to Point Pleasant
I crossed the Silver Bridge
and walked the blood soaked fields
where the Battle of Kanawha took place
I walked the streets and absorbed the energy
that hovered like unseen clouds
I approached an older woman walking her dog. She was very sweet and made me think of my Mom, God rest her soul. I knew there would be no harsh words or anger from this gentle lady.
I asked her with a friendly smile if she had a story of the Mothman she might share.
'Not the Mothman, she said...but I do have a story.
One from childhood that I've yet to tell anyone, not even my parents. I was maybe 11 or 12 and walking home after playing and it was getting late. I caught something out of the corner of my eye. When I looked, I saw a large plane losing altitude. It just came closer and closer until it leveled out and passed by very close. So close that I could see the passengers in their seats looking straight ahead, silhouetted against the light behind them. I could see their faces. It went by and then gained altitude again. The strangest thing is that I never heard a sound.
I'm not sure why I told you that story. I always felt that people would think I'm crazy. I suppose I can see that you are truly interested. So there you have it.'

I saw the museum, the ammo bunkers and TNT plant and went back to the hotel. I awoke the next morning to find two odd looking drops of blood on my pillow...still fresh. It startled me and I got up to see if it may have come from my ear. As I headed to the bathroom, I noticed more blood on the foot of the bed. In the bathroom there were 2 spots of fresh blood on the floor. I checked the mirror and found no blood in my ears. No nicks from shaving. No nicks on my arms, shoulders, neck or head. I have no idea whatsoever where that blood originated. And here's what really spooked me. They look like 2 very strange faces.

There were no phone calls from Indrid Cold. No prophecies of planes crashing or bridges collapsing, but I left Point Pleasant, West Virginia with a distinct and clear sense that I had tapped into an energy, peeked behind the curtain of Oz and maybe, just maybe I got their attention.

she looked upon the tree
as i looked upon her
charcoal shades
distant Sun
she filled the space
with her imagination
her emptiness as real as my own
how i wished to fill that space
quell her sadness with my own
but i had promises to keep
false dreams to carry out
i approached to ask she wait for me
so that i might clear my scripted day
and invite her in
but i turned away
and became a shadow neath her distant Sun