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Mar 2018 · 632
somewhere
shall we meet
if only for the first time
though I feel we have danced
briefly
in times past
in the life I still live
in these fields of gold
songs that haunt me with their beauty

yet somewhere
over that rainbow of dreams
I sense you wait for me
when Autumn leaves fall
how dare I love a spirit
I do not know
yet it is my conviction that we are bound somehow
in time
after time

awaken me
in those darkest nights
in the absence of purity
before my soul is taken by the abyss
a whisper is all I need
whisper the word from that song...
somewhere
oldie - slightly revised - I was motivated to write this piece after hearing Eva Cassidy' s version of 'Over the Rainbow' which she never knew became a hit in England as she passed from cancer without ever having a record contract. She was offered, but they wouldn't allow her to choose her songs, so she refused to sign. She grew up in my town.
https://youtu.be/2rd8VktT8xY
Mar 2018 · 491
Oops, I did it again!
In spite of my diminishing returns in the field of love
I am drawn to you
in spite of my declining belief that a 'Splendor in the Grass' moment will ever occur
I am drawn to you
in spite of my conviction that I am done with beautiful women who eat men for lunch  
I am drawn to you
like static makes a mess of the perfectly laid combover
your electric charge fires a blinding light that pulls me in like a fish on an invisible hook

I am helpless once again
I am primed for the pain
my arms are spread wide-open like a turkey about to be stuffed
slap a 'SOLD' sticker on my forehead and take me off the front shelf cause you just bought yourself one over-used
love addicted male companion for the next few years  
and all you had to do was look my way
oldie - don't be mad at me ladies...just for the record - this can work both ways
Mar 2018 · 363
Seabeams glisten
...and in the silence of that scene
the pause between
the tears unseen
the rain
Roy tells Deckard
of the beams
of the dreams
of the things
he wouldn't believe
now all the words
have lost their rhyme
like hope sublime
did he run out of life
or run out of time
oldie - a tribute to the greatest scene ever
Mar 2018 · 360
it has begun
they have been watching us since our birth
like concerned mothers watching their babies grow
from afar, yet with a close eye

they realize that their undisciplined and unworthy children
have gained control
and have silenced the majority through deception and greed

they realize that this has brought the paradise they founded
to the brink of apocalypse
and they have begun steps to alter this destructive path

they are here now
they have said hello
in the crop circles
in the clouds
in our dreams

the children free of greed
free of power driven thought
and open to the idea that the beauty given us
is all we need to sustain
know this

it shall happen in our lifetimes
the signs are there
and soon
when they feel we are ready
they will end the flight of a bullet
or a missile
before it completes its life ending path
and before us they will proclaim for all the world to hear...
'Enough'
oldie - slightly revised
Mar 2018 · 570
it is our time
now comes a vision
I see clear
the love we long for
has drawn near
the calling of our hearts we hear
it is our time

the darkness parts
so we may pass
the light we share
burns bright at last
the future now forgives the past
it is our time

and so our dream
now greets the Sun
the light that burned
in dreams is done
we walk in love
we walk as one
it is our time
oldie
Mar 2018 · 429
graceful mistake
fire spark of lover's sweat
hazy moan engulf the air
gripping sheets and bending pillows
moonlight streaks on wet windows
energy reaches dream state
then disappears through the keyhole
and there is nothing more than silence
before the quiet escape
and the unspoken acceptance
of this graceful mistake
oldie - revised
Mar 2018 · 502
awakening
I once rode a dream
in a mind made wheel of red light
it took me where I imagined
a rooftop on the corner of my block
or a moon of Jupiter
where I watched the Earth being born
and then die
all in the span of one dream
history known and unknown
I witnessed
those whose lives I read and cried for
and those who garnered no words
those who passed in battle for glory
and those who withered unbeknownst
those who spoke to millions
and those millions
who left in silence
will I remember?
within this dream I asked
to whatever power
whatever being
allowed this
and with that I awoke
to bright Sun
and the laughter of my daughter
'Wake up daddy...wake up
will you remember what?'
perhaps just a dream
perhaps more
but hear me now
seven years have passed
and not a day have I forgotten
not a day
have I not cherished
oldie
Mar 2018 · 422
the wrath of day
I am not angry with the day
though I gaze the skies with such disdain
I cannot outrun the light
so in the interim I wait idly by
or hide in shadows

so strong and constant
is the Sun
reminder of my weakness burns
I greet the darkness in it's absence
it holds no truth
no strength
only the means to cower

I will ride the ***** of night
until I fall into my dreams
where thoughts are kind and colors play
it is here I escape
the wrath of day
revised oldie - still not satisfied
Mar 2018 · 612
these dreams
sharpened to crystal serenity
my vision breathes life
into these moving pictures
these dreams
I awake to sweat and thirst
should I dream of a sun drenched paradise
or the afterglow of love
should I meet her
on the moonlit plane of ecstasy
I am alive in my world of fantasy
it is here that I am lost
here that I am waiting
for life to reveal itself
oldie
Mar 2018 · 513
what we believe
we do not choose what we believe
we must believe in who we are
our lives begin and end with truth
how bright the light
how true the star
the further from the heart we drift
the less we know the soul
to the wind our thoughts will sift
our dreams just fragments
never whole
we do not choose what we believe
we must believe in who we are
take a pause and take a look
before you walk too far
oldie
Mar 2018 · 473
dead of winter
I hear the rumbling of a distant train
the steady pulse makes its way up the mountain
through the leafless trees
and dense mist of an oncoming thought
but it does not come closer
only passes and fades to still
calm time
the large blackbirds search along the blanketed white hills
but there is little to feed upon
and I sense defeat as they pull their wings tighter
against the wind
the days are cold this high
and the nights are unforgiving
one bird leaves the limb
landing upon my window ledge
peers through the glass and catches my eye
quickly learning that he will find no solace
here
oldie revised
Mar 2018 · 762
where does the poet turn
Where does the poet turn
when the words cannot be found
who will see him
through quiet nights
and solemn days
as he fumbles in thought
at a scene already written
an emotion already spent
the frightening possibility
that his dreams have all been dreamed
his nightmares all survived
the poet's eye if narrowed
is blind

a cold wind turns the corner
as he makes his way
to the nearby park
with pencil and pad
he will gaze in infinite wonder
the children at play
the Sun on the bay
and he will wish he could live
the words once again
oldie
Mar 2018 · 683
alone on these quiet shores
alone on these quiet shores
in the precious moments before the Sun departs
final echoes of laughter have faded
the mind turns to the reason I am here
it is hallowed ground to this weary traveler
that which brings me back to a path of pure thought
the connection of the soul and mind
the ocean soothes like a gentle voice
of one familiar
and I am somehow closer to you here
it is in these moments that I feel the energy of you
sense the beauty of you
and when the laughter returns
when the moment is no longer mine
this precious time that I have saved
will tell me
when you are near
oldie
Mar 2018 · 681
last word
the last word falls
like a mountain on a dove
a shadow on a child
a bullet through a rose
and no-one knows
quill rests between cold fingers
the ink
is dry
oldie
Mar 2018 · 246
December Visit
the Sun had set and the night sky was clear
as the storm headed out to Sea
leaving the new fallen snow
glistening in the moon's light
I viewed from my mountain top home
as she made her way across the white oasis
leaving not a sign in the cold powder
she was as I remember
her fire red hair flowing past her shoulders
her gentle eyes of sky blue
her warmth felt through the chilling air
of this December night
she visits me at every snowfall
for it was her favorite time
'there is nothing more beautiful'
she would say
smiling through her heart
she walks to the edge of the wood
where we would often sit below the first pine
pauses
and sends a whisper my way
caught by the wind and delivered
just before vanishing behind a swirling gust of white
another oldie revised...yea...pretty sappy...but
Mar 2018 · 379
she knew
she knew all that I was
and I her
this is what I miss
this is what I remember
when her name is whispered
in a distant corner
so that I cannot hear
but I can
I can hear her name
in the glint of a star
not yet seen
on the crest of a dream
not yet realized
she knew
she knew that I loved her
oldie - revised
Mar 2018 · 331
bittersweet
she is bitter
I can see
I follow
as she walks again to the dark back of the building
where breaks are allowed
she attacks her cigarette
******* the smoke and hurling it out at the cold night air
our way is silence
now she knows how well I hide it
she knows I know
as our minds join at the top of her rising smoke
we await midnight
where our bittersweet passion
will find it's home
oldie - revised
It was July of '64, I think
not long after a bunch of ******* sick with greed, hate and vengeance masked as patriotism  
blew the President's head off
I was trying to hold onto my childhood at 9
it became rather difficult after that
I saw that famous news guy take off his glasses and weep before the nation
on our 25 inch black and white Zenith
I looked at that guy like a dog looks at something completely askew
something not at all normal that has just entered it's world

I was outside, behind my house in Southeast D.C.
Anacostia
playing along the incline where the coal made it's way from the
old apartment building's basement window opening
there was always some that they would spill when loading up
to feed the giant furnace
Tommy Arthur, who had criminal written all over him at 16
his greased back jet black hair, Banlon shirts, baggy grey slacks and high-top All Stars walked by with a friend
stopped to light his Lucky Strike
and asked me to show him how I could jump from one tree to another
I had done it 100 times, no big deal
my chance to show off for the town's bad ***
I reached the top and took my usual look around
there was the roof of my house, Sam's Market on the corner,
Baby and her brother Stinky playing on their porch
Baby still had the cast on her leg from the car that sent her flying
She was running across U Street to make it safely to base during a game of 'hide and seek'
Stinky...trust me, you don't want to know why he has that name.
I turned toward the tree limb belonging to the tree that grew alongside this one
it was an easy jump really, not more than 4 or 5 feet
perhaps I was a bit too cocky
after all, this was Tommy Arthur
other than the upper half of my 2 middle fingers on the right hand
and even less of the left, nothing touched limb
I was woefully short
I saw ground coming quickly
laced with broken coal chunks and little else
I smacked the hill face first
awkwardly twisting slightly to the right just prior to impact
Tommy and his friend, mouths agape
respectfully asked if I was allright
just before leaving
instinctively smelling trouble
blood was shooting from an opening above my left eye
at the upper corner of my forehead just below the hairline
my white tee shirt was quickly soaked and bright red
It was quite a relief when the cobwebs cleared and I realized I was alive
and even more incredibly, suffered no broken bones as far as I could tell
seeing that I was facing no more than a few stitches to close a head wound
my attention now turned to what good use I could make of my horrific appearance
besides having a great story to tell my buddies

I started walking towards the backyard gate
which was just a matter of 20 or 30 feet
I thought about what I'd do once I reached the house
but it all played out perfectly
as I climbed the steps to the back porch
and slowly made my way to the kitchen just inside
I see Mom with her back to me and she's frying chicken
I slowly enter and remain poised just inside the kitchen entrance
after a minute or so she turns with a pan of frying *******, wings and thighs
she sees her youngest son with a fully bloodied tee shirt
and blood spewing from his head
a chicken wing flew past me and I believe cleared the porch
other chicken parts and grease were strewn about the kitchen, dining room
and hallway
I was shown little sympathy for my wound
and after some very intense cleaning up was taken to Dr Phillips for stitches
Dr Phillips was never surprised to see me

The scar remains after 53 years
I returned once or twice and drove past the house
and looked at those trees I had climbed so many times

on that July day in 1964
I had fallen nearly 3 stories
landed head first into hard ground
and walked home with no more than a cut
all logic says I should have broken my neck
but in my life logic plays a very small part
It's a miracle I survived my childhood...it's all cake anyway because I was a mistake. My mother was on strict orders to not have more children after my older sister due to health issues...but here I am. Maybe because of that I have cheated death many times.
Feb 2018 · 338
the collector
Surprised to find me in your lair
lucifer?
that look is unbecoming
yes
I am well aware of your wickedness
as are the Gods
they only shake their heads in despair
and send me to do their bidding
unlike yourself
I do not crave to bestow suffering
your death shall be brief
come now
did you really believe that your empire
built on the blood and corpses of the innocent
would come without retribution?
Sin
lucifer
is never overlooked
or eclipsed by power
power you will now relinquish for eternity
say goodbye to your precious hell
and hello to a new one
for your soul shall reside in the company of those you took
a rather fitting punishment don't you think?
is that fear I detect in the eyes of the great lucifer?
your presence is awaited with great anticipation
and I shall give them their prize
oldie
Feb 2018 · 474
a life in my hands
i held a life in my hands today
and tried to give it back
but could not
she had fallen too high
into the light
and my breath fell short
perhaps she paused
perhaps she knew
i see her face again
when she was young
when she was who she was
and it will always be there
framed in light
pure as breath
alive with the promises
of youth
several years ago I was called to a room where a woman had stopped breathing. I started CPR...first time I had ever done it...and continued until the emt's arrived. they zapped her with the defib and got a heartbeat. I've never spoken to her. I wrote this before I realized she had survived a long period of rehab.
Feb 2018 · 283
mirror metaphor
In a High School classroom
I read a poem many years ago
about a man who stood before another man
vaguely pleading under his breath
for the other man held a knife
and appeared willing to carry out this act
there was little fight left in him
even before this stranger arrived
for his life had become a succession
of empty days
and long nights dreading the Sun
he had become a victim of his own bitterness
a sad, depleted soul
and he almost welcomed an end

'the blood of fleeing life
and the tears of anguish fell in drops
to the time-worn floor of the dismal room'

such a pitiful fate
even more pitiful is the fact that there was no stranger

'a blinking hotel sign revealed a dead man
lying beneath a mirror smeared with blood
and dried to the image of a stretched palm
many hours later'
Shortly after writing that piece
some 40 plus years ago during the darkest period of my life
I read the full poem (this contains excerpts)
in Creative writing class
to a group of baffled students
when I saw their faces and the teacher's
reaction...I knew I'd be doing this for a while
Feb 2018 · 373
hold that thought
Hold that thought, baby
my brain is rusted
Jessica got fat
and Chris Brown got busted
what did you say?
now that's just sad
Angela hates Jennifer
Jennifer hates Brad
ARod took roids
Michael did ****
what happened at work?
your boss did you wrong?
it's a commercial
you just about done?
who loves ya...oops!
baby, put down that gun!
this dates itself
Feb 2018 · 242
time heals
I was there
so deep into the abyss
that light burned when I faced the day
so lost in the comfort of night
that I knew not the warmth of the Sun
I crept closer to the reaper's door
my words became razors
my heart an open wound
yet there was one who refused to leave
when the darkest night arrived
and took the final cut
meant for me
oldie
Feb 2018 · 415
reaper
the clown in the picture turns his head
and glares
crows gather in the corner
and wait patiently
ghost of all demons
snaps his neck
one final breath
escapes
clown blinks
crows fly
shadow fades
siren screams from a distance
and ever so slowly
finds it's way

having pronounced
he exits shaking
at what he had seen
in those dead eyes
oldie - slightly reworked
Feb 2018 · 528
aftermath
long ago
we lay quietly in the aftermath
of an exhaustive period of rage
the eye
of this terrible storm
rendering a peaceful moment
'don't ever leave me'
you said
in such a pitiful whisper
that I almost believed you
such a haunting, calming plea
that I knew at that moment
I'd never forget this night
even if it be our last
oldie
Feb 2018 · 296
deep blue
She walks upon a higher ground
this I know
yet I allow my eye to wander
my mind to imagine
she does not choose to be there
it is simply how it is
she knows not her place
yet resides there alone
my soul, my heart meet her eyes
and in this deep well of rich blue
she reads me, absorbs me
as if I were a book lay open

I pity the next lonely gent
who dare look into those eyes
and not turn away
saving his heart for another
oldie
Feb 2018 · 517
Eden
and when asked to imagine
did we
for it is where the answers lay
pleading
and when asked to dream
could we
beyond the superficial surface
where we tread
and when asked to fight
would we
for the chance to remain
in Eden

forgive us Father
our ignorant bliss
oldie
Feb 2018 · 544
in a world that's dying
what is love
in a world that's dying
what is joy
in a world so trying
what is truth
in a world where lying
is an art form

what is faith
in a world so blind
what is hope
in a world unkind
what are dreams
in a world where mind
is unexplored

what is peace
in a world unfed
what is poetry
in a world unread
what is living
in a world who's bed
has already been made
not a good day
Feb 2018 · 571
poetic just us
The secrets of a snowflake
catch our eye
as it glistens past a reflected shard of moonlight
the wind off a butterfly wing
catch our ear
as it glides towards its destination
exhilerating coolness as the Sun rises
pushing night air to earth

lasting sound and image
like my child's first breath
these are the gifts given us
alongside the torment we must endure
we the poets
seekers of life at emotions pinnacle
surveyors of every energy
joy or sadness

in the fray
we are watching you
oldie
Feb 2018 · 388
worlds away
Here again
worlds away
I am adrift within the walls of gloom
come upon me like a creeping demon
through a door I cannot lock
into a realm I cannot reach
to test my faith
in time
my resolve to survive
and not abandon
the inviting entity
the passageway
the soul
another oldie
Feb 2018 · 545
The Souls of Cool Spring
Waves of mystic wind born this moment
the first cut into hallowed ground
I search relics of the ****** battle of Cool Spring
yelps of Soldiers, first blurred
then sharpening into individual clarity
rein down like passing bullets upon my ears
shadows run along the hill that drops off to the creek
as tree limbs orchestrate
thunderous hooves dart past and through me
leaves lift and swirl like tiny tornadoes
I click off the machine and remove the shovel
from the gaping wound
silence falls and in this empty wood
my thoughts of sorrow are heard
upon the wound a button lay
pristeen as the day it fell
some hundred fifty years ago
a shadow dips below the hill
I take the button
and leave a tear
for the souls of Cool Spring
Feb 2018 · 293
Starkman spoke
'You there in the back
your name escapes me
we have heard a poem from everyone else
you are the last'

the silence was thick fog rolling in
they stared and lightly giggled
nervous
I sensed that in them
afraid to show any real interest
in what I was about to say
they had read their pieces
on daffodils and daisies
sunsets and moonbeans
now they would hear what they knew was coming
I was the kid they crossed the street to avoid
that sat alone at lunch
not the geek
not the freak
just the unknown
quiet but confident
saying everything in my silence
by the time I had finished
'Hollow Man'
they knew me better
yet the distance became greater

they told mommy and daddy
the Starkman spoke in class today
Wow...dug this out of the ancient files. Inspired by Pearl Jam's Jeremy. Back then I wrote under T Owen Stark...hence...Starkman (too funny)...'Hollow Man' was a poem about a guy who locks himself up in a hotel room to **** himself...I know...lovely!
Feb 2018 · 850
so quickly gone
night colors drip
from the hand not raised
from the smile unfazed
by the empty space
that lay beside me

nightmares slip
into my soul resigned
into my world designed
to hold in dreams
the love denied me

waking to the burning light
her voice now fades from blue to white
her smile a thought so quickly gone
a memory lost
again
to dawn
oldie
Feb 2018 · 1.4k
sweet dream
Voice calls gently in the night
mind awakens lucid flight
gazing from Orion's shores
Angels open dreamscape doors
shadows cross the face of Mars
lovers count the falling stars
Sun evokes a gentle breath
to mark another twilight's death
awaken dreamer to morning's light
dreams rest silent til birth of night
oldie re-worked
Feb 2018 · 669
another night at Brewsters
lost in smoke that swirls like ghosts
round music and laughter that sways in stride
blurred by ***** my eyes sweep slowly
through the flickers and clicks of bodies
I search for an opening to make my escape
drowning in thoughts of lust and lines to spin
unable to speak them even to myself
I am not this
gameroom for hollow pleasures
far cries to fill the void
left by love not perceived
therefore unattainable

through the mist of emotional waste
as I prepare to depart
a voice caught me blind and sliced the silent noise
in a deafening whisper
'breathe deep' she said
as a hand turned me to the left
she stood as light in a desert of shadows
she was all I could see
her beauty was staggering
even in my diminished state
I blinked to reset my eyes
and she remained
'Breathe deep and look upon me
for I have found you
and you do not belong here'
Gloria leaned over the bar and whispered
'You okay, you look like you've seen a ghost!'

all was quiet as I left
arm in arm with a vision
I heard the meeting of glasses
as they toasted one they knew would not return
oldie...part 2 of Brewsters
Jan 2018 · 412
monsters and romantics
how does one reconcile
the delicate dreams of a poet
and the overt disdain for life
within a killer
co-existing
sharing the same air
the same blood
the same thoughts
'such a peculiar strand'
our makers ponder
and in their hope that we not be removed
filter us with dna
so that we may displace our sometimes
monstrous ways
only this mutation could produce
an intertwined anomoly
capable of producing the beauty of starry nights
and the violence of self mutilation
undying love for another
and hatred for oneself
from our beginnings
we have survived amongst those whose
greed dominates their lives
whose egos drive their existence
while others are lost
without the love and warmth of another's heart
another's soul to share in their dreams
strange strand we are
a mystery to our makers
inspired by Shang's 'goodbye, July
Jan 2018 · 441
the garden of Eve
as with the others
you rarely spoke of your garden with me
and here you are
at all hours
watering and trimming weeds
cupping a rose lovingly in your delicate hand
and closing your eyes to savor it's scent
why would you not share this beauty,
your creation?
I did not choose to leave you, my love
and the endless days and nights I spend
here in your garden
awaiting your return
is where I choose to remain
this is where we all choose to remain
until the day we grow weary of our broken souls
and whisper in the ear of a love stricken comrade
'dig up the garden'
Jan 2018 · 485
forest of dreams
on occasion
if the moon is in just the right phase
if the balance of lucidity and calm
mesh with the spirits of the other dimensions
i am able to find and pull the veil of stars to one side
entering the forest of dreams
this is where the conscious mind's governor is removed
and the capabilities of one's imagination is set free
this is where the true domain of thought in conjunction
with the buried brain come alive, awaken
here
i am without time
without restriction of sound
here
i am in my truest form
until the nightmare returns
Jan 2018 · 865
opaque
my heart so dark as to shadow thee
I seeketh shade from the opaque
rest thy soul neath a linden tree
smell the life in Grasmere lake

in thy rest a lass wanders by
she chats me up a bit
I see her face as clear as sky
yet something does not fit

she whispers me a lovely rhyme
then turns and bids farewell
'I've loved you since the dawn of time
through heaven and through hell'

she disappears like foggy mist
in the wake of a rising Sun
our hearts were merged in that first kiss
for eternity we've run
Do you know what we men love, ladies?

We love the raisins in our apple pie
when we just want apple pie
We love the broccoli in every dish
how you beg 'just give it a try!'

We love the fortune in toiletries
so there's no room for our combs
perfumes, shampoos and body creams
blow dryers, curlers and foams

We love how you sneak to the bathroom
just prior to us awaking
we plea for you to hurry
as our bladders are sorely aching

We love to join you shopping
and discuss the cashier's hair
and if we happen to like it
do we tell you...do we dare?

but most of all we love you
for the biggest, most valuable perk
is the motivation you provide
to get our ***** off to work!
all in fun! Oops...I hadn't even realized that CDK was responding to another 'About Men'...that'll teach me to read the notes!! LOL
Jan 2018 · 343
sleeper
he'd always been a sleeper
to that he would admit
never less than 8 a night
and then he'd snooze a bit

his love of sleep found him sleeping more
9, 10, 11
the alarm was useless to him
his dreams were that of heaven

but his health began to suffer
his weight began to slip
napping more, eating less
his mind had lost it's grip

he checked in with his doctor
then a sleep disorder shrink
they gave him meds and special beds
useless
so he began to drink

11 turned to 12
and twelve to 17
he only woke to have a drink
in the wasted time between

tuesdays were quickly fridays
just blurs when he awoke
catch his ghostly figure
in the bathroom as he'd choke

the gap was slowly closing
the last stitch in the seam
he'd stepped into his perfect story
his neverending dream

they found him with a book of poems
and a grin though he'd been taken
he'd circled in ink the final passage
'never to awaken'
something that came to mind after I caught myself sleeping too much
Jan 2018 · 5.2k
everything I touch
and there you are
walking into another lost dream
your whispers and gentle smile
touching the memories  
I hold dear

like the dream
our time was brief
you turn and walk away as you did
40 years ago
you wanted more from me
another day
another week
and perhaps I would have realized
that I truly loved you
but we know how cruel time can be
and I let you go

I awaken to your image
fading quickly
and I decide to find you
maybe to ask forgiveness
maybe to beg

but I am too late
and you have left me
only to be found
in my dreams
in my sorrow
We make decisions in our lives that may seem of little importance at the time, only to realize the immensity later. like the song...I let her go... I looked for her again recently, only to find she had passed away in 2009. A punch to the soul that I will never fully recover.
Dec 2017 · 9.0k
a momentary smile
in this age of vanishing dreams
and crying ghosts
I find myself drawn again and again
an undying connection
to this work of art
so out of time upon its creation
as to be an endless fascination for me
so unlike the artist
this suffering soul
who's immense love and anguish
for the less fortunate
coupled with a talent too immense
for one man
created a burden that weighed upon his shoulders
and his heart like a million captured tears
then once upon a beautiful dream
or perhaps just a clever thought or a baby's smile
a brief respite from the pain
he created the contradiction of his lifetime
as if to say to all that may come to know him
through what history dictates
'You see...I was not crazy!'
and The Smoking Skull
was born
I have some connection to this painting that I cannot explain...perhaps that is my skeleton in a past life...(grin)
Dec 2017 · 346
the 7th bridge
It was at the 7th bridge
that I decided to jump
perhaps the cold night added incentive
or the fact that I had lost my favorite letter from you that day
the last one you wrote
before you found your own bridge
or perhaps 7 is just my lucky number
I was after all
the 7th child born
though my mum was told not to have more children
so you see
all my time here was cake anyway
I'm not tossing anything away
I'm just making things right

what is it about life that makes it so
difficult?
perhaps it's the inability for some of us
to store our baggage in a proper place
Dec 2017 · 558
Heroes of the Bedfordshire
four bodies lay
here in this small, square piece of ground
made especially for you gents
they dragged your bodies from the shore
the morning after your ship was torpedoed
while protecting the North Carolina coastline
many remain forever in the Graveyard of the Atlantic
brave souls you were
giving your very lives
in defense of an ally
and seventy-five years later I take a few moments
to acknowledge your bravery and your sacrifice

upon returning home I replay moments from my trip
to Ocracoke and Hatteras Island
and during my short stay at the British Cemetary
when I felt honored
to be standing in the presence of the lost souls
of the Bedfordshire
a voice whispers...'We are at Peace'
true story
Dec 2017 · 481
this is where I come alive
it is nearly December
and here I sit
alone
on the beach of Buxton
just in front of the immaculate Hatteras Lighthouse
only a few surf fisherman
are within eyeshot
maybe half a mile towards Frisco
and one obvious resident of the area
bronze skinned and soaking in more
of the late season Sun
walks her Lab along the shoreline
it is every bit 72 degrees
and the light breeze is only perfect
the terns float in the hundreds
a few hundred yards offshore
as I admire them
I spot several dolphins on the move nearby
one jumps like a kid showing off
this is followed by a dozen or so pelicans
playing follow the leader a foot above the ocean
then dive bombing for fish

I come alive when I step from the concrete to the sand
when I hear the beautiful music of the waves pounding the shore
in perfect, slow rhythm
this is where I find myself
where my worries drift slowly out to Sea
with every precious moment I have
in these
Outer Banks
just got back from a 3 day late season solo trip to OBX...I always hate to leave
Nov 2017 · 592
his life
the riddle must be solved
did you take your life
in those fields?
some say no
the angle of the bullet entry is all wrong
and how did you make it to town with such a wound?
some say yes
when your burden on Theo was made clear
you must tell me
this question ravages my sleep
the recurring nightmare has no end
no answer
was it the cowboy?
why do you cover for such trash?

I sit in a theater
empty
as our souls are empty
our hearts are dark
you created such beauty
for a world such as this
I watch
as 100 painters paint a 1000 pictures
for you
but no answer comes
only the question

and then the words
whether they were truly spoken
does not matter...
'you want to know so much about his death
but what do you know of his life?'

rest in peace
Vincent
inspired by the amazing film 'Loving Vincent' which you will not find playing at your local mall with 13 other films...but if you find it...and you have a soul...it will awaken your heart!
Nov 2017 · 314
ized
I've been criticized, ostracized, demonized, desensitized, scrutinized, chastised,  analyzed, generalized, politically sodomized, inspected, disected, directed, detected, deflected
all for acquiring and dispersing
truth
the only thing I haven't been
is plagiarized
Nov 2017 · 261
sharks in the shadows
there are sharks within the shadows
trolls amongst the trees
witches in the holler
and serpents in the seas

storm clouds harbor distant spies
from the dark side of the moon
your tv has a set of eyes
and they'll be coming soon

they do not like the thinkers
they despise the unbound thought
freedom has its limits
is that not what we were taught?

Now rise above your fear of those
who would have you begging please
search beyond the gilded cage
get up off your knees
Nov 2017 · 582
save the light
guardian of the lucid heart
bequeaths her soul to Lucifer
in exchange for life of the Sun
to remain
savage is the shadow world
where deals are made for our very lives
in darkness whilst we sleep
and should the balance tip in favor
of greed and indifference
towards the mother of all that is light
then her soul shall have been vanquished
for naught
we are the last semblance of humanity
capable of this salvation
all life, all spirit, all vestiges of our species
shall be scattered to the winds of time
our origin lost forever
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