Onward cried the empath
whisperer of ghosts
through a maze of darkness
through layers of time
and static thought
his mind open and protected
by the belief of his followers
onward through the blind prejudice
of the unmoved and unwilling
into the realm of calm
into a sea of silent dreams
until at last the path is clear
the droves of disbelievers
turned away
by the powers of pristine consciousness
here
past the walls of centuries built by doubt
the words of a kindred spirit
the response of a lost soul searching for light
"I hear You"

as the shadows speak to one another
in whispers above my traveling thoughts
what to make of this seeker of deeper dreams

I surprise them when I hear their voices
through the lucid silence and
the bending seams

like a surgeon's surprise
when a patient's eyes
flash open from deepest slumber
they are drawn to me
in my dream scape sea
and 333 is my number

though I be the one in search of answers
there are questions within you I raise
for the King of lost souls
and graveyard dancers
can provide you a glimpse
of your living days

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

maybe I'll write a poem today
I've got little else to do
my junk news, wordles, and puzzles are done
did the laundry too

I've got a book to write
and friends to visit
why is that such a reach?
I go through the motions in my comfort zone
watching silent webcams of the beach

I need milk and bread
cereal and eggs
but Walmart seems so far away
little makes me laugh or cry
and each color turns to gray

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

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

I opened the desk to look at the only photo I have of you
the colors have faded
and the edges are charred
but I don't remember when or how
did I do that at some point in a drunken fit
perhaps to draw my gaze from your beauty
or to symbolize how I was burned
the nights are long here
retired and struggling to find life
trying not to wait for death
you were night and day
love and hate
truth and deception
and in our brief time together
I was more alive than ever before
or since

you haunt me

Walk with me this frozen field
of ever-changing likeness
faces affixed in ghost-like stares
sorrow screams silent from their eyes

Elude with me the coming dawn
which harbors only darkness
cast a shield of sanity
in shadows rich of hue

We will bathe in passions light
time removed from our thought
forever lost
forever found

what a wonderful coincidence to discover that when I look up  
one of my two favorite words
threshold
it is linked to my other favorite word
phenomenon
but my life is laced with coincidence
my third favorite word
they happen daily
like itches

for instance,
today I did a wikipedia search for Ezra Pound
because my poetry student daughter fell in love with one of his pieces
I find that from 1945 to 1958
Mr Pound was incarcerated at St Elizabeth's Psychiatric Hospital in Washington D.C. after being found incompetent to stand trial
for treason against the United States
my father worked at St Elizabeth's hospital for 30 years
including the 12 that Mr. Pound was a patient
my father, who kept his poetry hidden in a little black book

I have a vision of him
young at the time
enamored with the 60 plus year-old poet
seeking him out and finding him
resting outside at one of the tables
enjoying the simplicity and intricacies of nature
and perhaps they have a chat about poetry...
my father having a chat with Ezra Pound
70 years before his granddaughter falls in love
with one of his poems
a poem already written and filed away somewhere in the memory of a once beloved poet

threshold: the magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result or condition to occur or be manifested.
“nothing happens until the signal passes the threshold”

Hayden meticulously shaves his blisters once they callous
and keeps them in a bell jar that he dug
in another jar he keeps the prizes
Civil War bullets, badges and buttons
observing at all angles until falling asleep well past midnight
he watches the skies and remembers each star's place at 10:00 o'clock
and compares them by month
listens for voices in the white noise of his pocket radio
his face a stoic sculpture
hours on end in his hoodie and ear buds
on the hill that oversees Chalmers Lake

Hayden will eat quickly of necessity and return to his rituals
silent
he will watch the disturbances along the water
every firefly, every fish that glances the surface
no voice, no smile, no connection to us
yet deep behind the eyes, the stares, the static energy
there is something magnificent taking place
something we will never be allowed to see or feel
something beautiful

she moves too slow
while I'm awake
yet renders mercy
for hearts that ache
she waits in patient,
silent hope
providing light
on this slippery *****

she has no thoughts
of giving in
slows your breath
when air gets thin

and as you await
the final tide
she'll grant you a glimpse
of the other side

there is no healer
I give more faith
no more a reason
this soul can rhyme
for night and day
for every season
I cherish this gift
of time

here
cloaked within the desolate,
merciless shadows of time
i cling to that which has held me
when the dark becomes darker
and the hours become longer
i clutch the only hope remotely viable
in this wretched isolation that follows me
not like a curse
but more a tortured friend
i dream in the pleasure of sleep
and scorn my first waking thought
encircle me now
your shade is my only salvation
here

here lay the bones that dry
in the desert Sun
alongside those of the turkey vulture
that devoured the skin
before it rotted
here lay the shoes
that dropped as she run
screams that ran along the sand
until an iguana
heard a faint sigh
here lay the rusted remnants
of his 56 Ford
only 6 miles away
and 12 miles beyond
lay the bones of this sick *****
who in his frenzy to ****
forgot to stop for gas

In the fragile hands of my little girl
who knows not the agony of my years
nor realizes the joy she provides
the balance her innocence brings
she holds a picture
framed in red oak
figures in black and white
posing beneath a gray tree
which no longer provides shade
on a hill no longer there
she talks to them in almost silent whispers
those who were gone before knowing her first breath
those I miss so desperately
she sets the picture back in it's place
and for a moment looks achingly sad
'tell me about them Daddy'
she says

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'

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

so, pay attention now
get your heads out your *****
these are facts you never learned on the news or in history classes
as one leads to the next you will come to understand
that the veil of lies and secrecy is a cancer in this land
if you have no time to read because you can't handle what is true
then here's the chance to turn away and I won't bother you
the history of 'our' nation could only see the light
if the residents currently occupying it were hidden from our sight
they were slaughtered, starved and herded
and minimized through the years
until the final, heartless march
along the Trail of Tears
now we had our land and prospered well
as we ravaged Mother Earth
the savagery and ungoverned progress
abandoned human worth
slavery and divided direction
led to civil war
******, ****, abuse and hate
spread from shore to shore
the travesty of Pearl Harbor
a wretched trade of patriotic lives
our entry into world war II
on the backs of weeping mothers and wives
then comes the ultimate nightmare
the mother of all blatant crime
the execution of the seeker of change
that forever altered the beautiful rhyme
he saw the power they recklessly flaunted
in the corridors and once sacred halls
and vowed to castrate the power mongers
the industrial and military *****
the result was their production
a badly written and acted plight
staged before the world to see
an execution in broad daylight
'we have control'
don't **** with us
is the message they convey
removing all witnesses,
then Bobby and Martin
all better souls than they
911 - don't get me started
the truth will soon be known
and all like I who speak the truth
may one day meet their drone
as a threat to this great nation
as a hater in their eyes
I will not deny conclusions
I will not support their lies
we must face the evil in these dark corners
we must come in from the blinding rain
if we are to save ourselves
we cannot live our lives in vain
search your heart and search the truth
it is there for you to find
our history resurrected
our future no longer blind

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

I fill my heart
I fill my heart with you
when there is only blue
and everything is hollow

I grab a star
I grab a star for you
what would you have me do
I will always follow

we sail
into the open Sea
the Sky
the only blue I see
your eyes
they are the first to see
me
they are the first to see
me

you came along
you change the colors too
what a thing to do
when everything is  hollow

why is love such a difficult task
hard to capture
harder to grasp
it calls to you from a lover once yours
as you aimlessly stare from your silence
on these shores
how did it fade into something routine
yet hollow your heart
when it
left

hush now hush now
don't you speak
Sammy's gonna' make sure
it don't leak
quiet now quiet now
don't you chat
snap your pretty neck
you ***** little rat
go to sleep go to sleep
what's your line
shoulda' made copies
for the news at nine
hit the road hit the road
my sweet little rose
no one ever listens
to dancers and **'s
knock em' dead knock em' dead
one two three
leave it all to Lyndon, Edgar and me

i have turned
to collect myself
to inspect myself
to inject myself
with an unknown matter
a random chatter
an endless ladder
i have skin
of an ancient breed
a visitors need
an implanted seed
a timeless fear
a broken gear
that leads me here
wondering what it is
i am missing

there
in the pause
somewhere between sleep and awake
between night and dawn
the shadows move
and the voices begin
is it in my head
or just another reality
am I home or just visiting
what is real and what is imagination

I drop like a sack
off the back of a truck
and hit the mattress
felt like a dream
had me hypnotized

(RIP: Bob Welch)

I found lost
in the symmetry of her diamond eyes
my soul

I am very tired
yet I have much work to do
I have yet to write of the child in me
that kept you close and made you smile
I have yet to write of the terror in me
that held life and death on a precariously short leash
I have yet to write of my love for you
though draining and awkward
was the love meant for this soul

Take me to where the light follows the waves to my feet
as she settles
behind the horizon
and I will write my final words
in the hours that remain
in the moments I have saved
in the grace of the setting Sun

I live to sleep
it is here I thrive
around the curtain I peep
where the mind comes alive
mysteries await
in facets of blue
bird on a gate
in a field holds the clue
ships from the ancients
on a mountaintop near
show me their world
in a glass crystal clear
where liquid colors
explode in the sky
creating a portrait
of my lover and I
the ecstasy of thought
far beyond waking ties
will allow you to dream
with your heart and your eyes
open

lost in the hum of indifference
is the whimper of fading love
held captive and suppressed in false contentment
is the cry of a beaten soul
shackled by the devouring wind of illusion
this wounded heart beats
yet bleeds
of insignificance

they are only flashes
yet they hold the power to bring me to tears
or laughter
I see faces in them
moments that are burned in my soul
fifty four years ago
looking for something to do on a hot July afternoon
I would peak out the window to make sure
Mrs. Mabolis (she was a portly gal) was on her porch
drinkin' her tea
prop the front door open  
go to the edge of the kitchen
and run full speed down the hallway
out the front door
across the porch
hitting the top of the stairs
and launching myself out far enough
to clear the 10 steps
land on the concrete sidewalk
perform a fake roll to make it look
more death defying than it actually was
and look up to see Mrs. Mabolis
grab her chest in terror
poor Mrs. Mabolis
the day I nearly got run over by a 55' Chevy
playing 'Hide & Seek'
likely took 10 years off her time on this planet
I'm sorry Mrs. Mabolis, I truly am
but you were my go to!

fell out of a tree once
truly should have killed me
but opened a **** on my forehead
that changed the front of my bright white t-shirt
to candy apple red
snuck up on Mom through the back porch door
waited for her to turn around and see me
while she was frying chicken
when she finally did
the fried chicken took flight from the frying pan
to the dining room
sorry Mom!
luckily, Mrs. Mabolis wasn't on the porch for that one

I miss the future
when, if I wanted to see you
I just beamed myself from my dark room
to your waiting arms
we walked for hours along the coastline
where California use to be
of-course our feelings changed a bit
when we learned we were not truly of this earth
but brought from another dying planet
some several thousand years ago
but it was still so much better than the now
when we ****** our own presidents
and sacrifice lives in wars that we start

an old spirit who I passed on the trail of tears
spoke to me in my sleep
he told me that the future was only a dream
and to prepare myself for the end
I asked him how
and he turned back and said
'pray to the souls that your people have vanquished
that they forgive your sins
you spit in the face of mother earth
and cut her breath to make room for cows and pigs
so that you may gorge
you sacrifice your brothers in the name of false Gods
and your leaders fatten themselves off the sweat of their own
with no regard for all man's lifeblood
you took this precious gift and threw it away
and now
even in the face of death
you squabble like spoiled children
ignoring the inevitable
so pray that your children will not face the final day
for it will be fire'
and with that he turned and
I awoken...

****...8:30
late for work!

I miss the future
when, if I wanted to see you
I just beamed myself from my dark room
to your waiting arms
we walked for hours along the coastline
where California use to be
of-course our feelings changed a bit
when we learned we were not truly of this earth
but brought from another dying planet
some several thousand years ago
but it was still so much better than the now
when we ****** our own presidents
and sacrifice lives in wars that we start

an old spirit who I passed on the trail of tears
spoke to me in my sleep
he told me that the future was only a dream
and to prepare myself for the end
I asked him how
and he turned back and said
'pray to the souls that your people have vanquished
that they forgive your sins
you spit in the face of mother earth
and cut her breath to make room for cows and pigs
so that you may gorge
you sacrifice your brothers in the name of false Gods
and your leaders fatten themselves off the sweat of their own
with no regard for all man's lifeblood
you took this precious gift and threw it away
and now
even in the face of death
you squabble like spoiled children
ignoring the inevitable
so pray that your children will not face the final day
for it will be fire'
and with that he turned and
I awoke...

****...8:30
late for work!

I entrust my dreams to a silent hope
that they will someday find their place
in this, a past or future life
same smile on different face

I entrust my thoughts to travel time
to land where there is need
a sense of calm
a flash of joy
where nothing grows
a seed

I entrust my love to peer across
the synchronistic chain
to spy it's true immortal mate
hearts join like tears and rain

I entrust my soul to find a home
in this universal plan
lives re-written
searching for
the key to understand