Some say I reflect only shadows
only darkness
only fear
am I to be negated for this
perhaps
accurate observation?
did Poe write of whimsical romps
through flower gardens?
did VanGogh paint in colors of glee?

balance
the dusk
the dawn
the unwitting pawn
the king who holds court
the peasant who merely survives

view from my pulpit before you judge
stand in my shadow before you declare
that I am without light

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 never hear when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field. I caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final statement in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under ground........'

in the endless possibility of dream
we talk in the calmest of whispers
ever so close
I am burning within these shadows
brushing against her
echoed laughter
the smell of her hair
and the electricity of her skin
exceeds consciousness
the beauty of the dream is in it's clarity
of that which is born from the energy
of two

How I arrived there
I'm not quite sure
through a rabbit hole
or through a door
was it a fraction of a second
or a thousand tears
a world that lives
within my fears?
what I saw with my mind's eye
were shades of me
against the sky
I traveled still through
realms of blue
I touched a dream I had of you

in a life that awaits
our souls would remain
together as lovers
we danced in the rain
I felt a hope I had never known
I saw a light that had never shone
and all the doubt and fear within
had vanished in the very thin
breath
before my death

when the fires truly begin
will you find yourself hesitant to depart
to begin anew...spirit cleansed

I lurk beneath the Sea
and hide among the sharks
when storms are fierce
and batter all who swim
against the waves
the blanket of the night
is home to my seclusion
fuel for my illusion
where I awake
when others pale
where I thrive
when others fail
to see the beauty
in silence

here
the watchers gather
and talk amongst themselves
of things they have witnessed
for even in this age of awareness
those that believe,
those that know
are destined to gather
here

the night sky
the farm house long vacant
the coincidences
only they see
have them walking a path of light
few can fathom
like birds on a wire
they await
the inevitable storm

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

In the chambers of this weathered mind
Memory seeps and pools
Like flooding streets

Ships of thought
Sail a blinding mist
On seas of no return

Hope is devoured
Like Suns in a black hole
Echoes in a dream
True love in this madness

I must depend on your eyes
to see the universe
and you must know in your perceptive love
that though I am blind beyond this superficial light
I hold the Sun
my guide
my strength
my soul
beyond this darkness
for you

grey dusk
and blue tomorrow
fade to black
then back to sorrow
take my heart
but never borrow
this love is all but spent

In the back of Brewsters
where I always sit
watching the ladies dance
weaving their way through the gray cigarette smoke
clicking curves as the strobe light dances with them
Gloria serves up the intoxicating mixes
and teases the ***** hopefuls
who know they haven't a 'snowball in hell's' chance
the music thumps as Manny pummels
another joker who had a bit too much
as the hour of closing draws near
she slides by my table and smiles an invitation
I've been noticing her noticing me
as her 3rd partner heads to the head
leaving an opening for a 4th
not one to pass up an opportunity
I move onto the floor and quickly
work up a sweat that blends
with the rising inferno
'Smooth Operator' ends the chaos
and our bodies are now one
speaking in sighs and moans
of what is now obvious
this dance will not end at the end of this song
Gloria winks again as I grab my jacket
from the back of the chair
the smoke parts as we make our escape

the Brickhouse is where you'll find them
it was here long before the school
it is where Jane lived
and where she died tragically
poor Jane
locked in the attic like a dangerous animal
and her only crime was that her mind slipped
so the story goes

and find them I did
I could not hear or see them until I viewed
what I had on film
there I found them dancing about
up and down the stairs like children playing
I made my way to the attic door
but could not go in
the weight of sadness filled the air like dense fog
I knew Jane was here

on film I hear their voices
distant...
sometimes it is children laughing
sometimes they mock me
''He knows Persley'' a gentleman sarcastically states
after my reciting the first line of
'Roses are Red'
at least one did not appreciate my being there
"Get Out" she demanded
and then the sad voice pleading as if lost in the wood
"I Hear You" she cried
"I Hear You"
is it Jane?
I will return
to hopefully gain trust in those that reside here
for I must know
more

Home bound after work
near 12:30 am
just a few minutes from checking my email
then retiring
as us old folks like to call it

from the North side of route 7
at a slight angle
there and gone in half a second
was the biggest meteor I've ever seen
if that's what it was
so big that I slowed and listened for a boom
but nothing came
I have no idea how far it went before touching down
but this isn't about the meteor
this is about the fact that when I got home
and thought about who I would tell...
there was no one that came to mind
I've seen so much crazy **** in my life
that the stories have grown old
even the new ones
I breathed life into a dead woman one morning
then faced the fact that I couldn't save another
hit by a truck on my way home
just after midnight

on the day before the great Russian meteor
I saw 2 objects in the sky on fire
and not moving...
in broad daylight
I've been touched and spoken to
by spirits or ghosts or phantoms
take your pick
I saw 3000 people sacrificed in the name of what?
and as a child I witnessed a president murdered by those supposed to follow him
I've grown to see the young know nothing of that last President who actually had a vision and a spine

and when I quietly leave this life
there will be little to note...
a brief glance
of my obituary
by a few sad souls

I often think of a quote I heard as a young man
by a comedian; George Gobel
who was on the 'Tonight Show'
Dean Martin and Bob Hope were also on that show
and unknown to George, Dean was flipping his cigarette ashes
in George's drink as he was telling his humorous stories
this caused the laughs to come out of sequence...and finally a confused George said; 'Did you ever feel like the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?'

Spoiled centerpiece at table's edge
red apples turned a dull brown
grapes withered and wrinkled
like the hand that lay motionless
sprinkled with drywall dust
tv screams in neutral static
the only surviving kitten suckles it's lifeless mother's ****** in vain
the burning corn fields crackle and snap
the skies turn a smokey haze
before the Sun disappears on schedule
somewhere along the road
Grandpop and Joe are in the truck
with melted ice cream
they were bringing back from town

my Father wrote poetry in younger years
of love and loss
of joy and fear
i discovered his work tucked away in a drawer
castaway drifter
returned to the shore

who was this man of sentiment
whose gift of prose is long since spent
who spoke so rarely
and laughed not at all
i knew him not
beyond the wall
that stood in stone
grew stronger with age
his soul now resides
in this book
on this page

her voice danced on the Summer breeze
carried over the garden
and graced the stillness of the catfish pond
"Suppers' ready"
one more fish, I thought
just one more
but I could almost smell the beef stew
and the apple pie Mama had coolin'
fish can wait
sometimes the best part of fishin'
is gettin' hungry
and no one in Clarke County
cooked a finer meal than Mom
I closed my eyes as I walked toward the house
reminding myself to save room for pie and vanilla ice cream
Dad's gonna be proud of the 4 sizeable cats I caught
a strong breeze and the sound of window blinds slappin'
brought me home again
a storm was comin'

why is it that the best dreams are always interrupted?
sliding the window shut, I can still smell that apple pie

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

Forged in rolling seas of dreams
the mystic well resides
dancing thoughts ride torrent streams
where imagination hides

frozen skies and neon clouds
carry words in crystal rain
faces wearing waves like shrouds
swallow wayward ships of pain

home to endless echoes
a twisted, feeble howl
eyes shift under sweating lids
satan's breath wreaks foul

playground to these hollow hearts
of Angels wandering lost
trade your soul for wicked wants
and Heaven be the cost

I walk outside my lucid skin
my waking thoughts return
I feel the sting of evil's tongue
the conscious breath does burn

when things slow
the cheetah after a futile chase
lay in the grass and ponder
gathers his breath
I watch the ice form and quiet
the rushing river below
or the Sun
retreat
submit to dusk
it is here I find the corridor

I believed she had fallen
into the dark of her mind
to forever languish in a sea of shadows
but she had only toyed with her thoughts
walking the edge of the abyss
she kept one thought alive
and here
now
in the life giving light of the Sun
she passes unknowing
that in one moment
long ago
our lives had crossed
and somewhere within that instant
in the whole of time
one life was returned
and another began

darkness becomes me
it's silence and lack of clarity
it's empathy from whispered voices
when the dead come to visit
I sleep only in small doses
my own screams awaken me to moving shadows
and the chill of their presence
dazed knowledge of being touched
which I dismiss when the Sun arrives
yet the darkness becomes me
in a sordid kind of way
I muddle through the vacant day
smiling when I want to plea
for anyone to look and see
that I await the coming night
with urgency to dim the light
like an actor's role he cannot put down
or the painted smile of a dying clown
there is nothing more odd
yet meant to be
a fixture in this darkness
that so becomes me

my dark waters stir
turning the moon's placid reflection
into a chaotic dance of broken light
echoes of churning
deep water
saturate
and raise your foreboding laughter
up and over the old well's lips
but you will not awaken me
to burn this nightmare into my core
rather I shall sleep into dawn
awaken to a silent Sun
you once held my heart below these waters
but unlike all those that followed
I survived you
you may impose fear in the heart
of a wayward toad
or other spineless woodland creatures
but I sleep well
immune to your frozen tears

Fleeting signs of a body lay
dried by time and desert Sun
chosen sanctum
here he'd stay
rest his heart
end his run
crisp clear nights
spark cleansing dreams
spirits walk the cooling land
evil fears what Heaven deems
a haven in the sand
hope had sent this bitter soul
to seek content in death
beneath the nightly desert sky
a smile precedes
his final breath

my heart will soon expire
during a blinding rage against
a travesty passing as light breeze
in the storm of this ungodly hour
we sit silent in our own mundane and minute plans
miniscule needs, fraudulent desires
night holds no wishes
no dreams
there is no life in the eyes of these sad children
only the grin of instant gratification

I remember when there were dreams
when there was room for thought
room to search the vast landscape of our consciousness
the curse of having lived before the digital age

we are fading as we flash our rehearsed smiles
we are cooking in our own tasteless juices
we struggle deciding on coke zero or diet pepsi  
as our brothers are beheaded

and we don't blink

the essence of you remains
in thought
but you are fading from vibrant color
to etched gray lines
who I am now is measured by your time
away from me
the efforts of others now fruitless
and unrequitted
perhaps it is a slight to the giver of life
but I cannot stay here without at least
the whisper of you
and should I not find you
beyond my last breath
then I shall die with you
in my final thought

the irrelevancy of this day
blots the Sun
with the suffocating light of indifference

the urge to scream is often there
just below that inane giggle
that maniacal grin

that ever recurring crystalline voice
whispering from the lips of a fading thought
'we are all undeniably
irrevocably
lost'

here
in the battered chambers
of this once vital heart
the uneven echoes
send signals of it's impending failure
the body relaxed in the haze of morphine
the mind alone in the dreamscape before death
a magnified tapestry of color
Sun and golden fields from a VanGogh painting
move within my thoughts
swaying and quelling the offbeat of distant drums

a lone leafless tree
a branch holding lines of crow
awaiting the rain
turn to see me
'follow them'
a voice whispers from beyond the wheatfield
they take flight
as do I
towards the darkest of the ominous clouds
'this is so worth it' I thought
just before the lightning snaked it's way across the blistering blue sky
releasing me from my mortal coil

I had to smile as I hovered there
watching them zap me again and again
bless them for their perseverance