september has snapped
perfectly into place

the cool of the air
the linger of light

the ants have slowed their workload
the cicadas have grown silent

a brown squirrel happily hurries past
an acorn in its mouth

when death comes for me
i would like to think

that i will not lock the door
draw the curtains

and secret myself beneath the bed in the guest room
when life came for me

i did not run and hide
and look how all that turned out?

RIp Ozzy Osbourne

I need someone to show me the things in life that I can't find
I can't see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind

Inspired by the song paranoid by Ozzy Osbourne

Paranoid

The hate in this world seems to run on steroid
Hearts seems to be hard with love void

Searching still for happiness seems hard to find
Memories of pain still loitering on tis mind

Falling free in an endless pit of dreams
The voice of freedom in tis heart screams

Silence only in the box of death
Music loaded in every passing breath

Pavin

after the rain the weeds
green

and peeking
wiggle their way between

the stones
and gravel

push their way
through the dark of the dirt

expanding in the morning light
we circle

and swirl in our systems
we wait the weather

ever mindful of the bumps
and jags that seek

to knock us off our line
we pray through the paces

so careful of the roots
that hold us

and keep us in place

My lost friend
is dreaming now of moon-silvered streets
and the lawns in tones of blue and green
like peacocks in repose
Is your lover, my lost friend
one of those?

My lost friend
has disguised herself in the ivy vines
twining around the garden stones
where the gray cats sleep
Is your lover, my lost friend
one of these?

My lost friend
wraps her heart in fox fur red and black
and waits in the dawn for the light to come back
across the lawns in morning mist
Is your lover, my lost friend
coming back to you like this?

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

The feeling of your absence doesn't bother me,
I guess because I never lost you.
I want to move on,
but fragments of ecstasy pierce my heart,
reminding me that you're no longer mine.

When you cross my mind,
my heart skips a beat,
I just wish it also skipped the feeling, that you're weren't enough for me,
Maybe I'd still have you in my arms.

°d_cole

There is a thing I wanted so much--
a thing always denied.
The evil and the angelic made a pact

and placed this desire in my heart
like a ticket hidden in a boot
worn by someone desperate in a station.

I tell people this desire is over--
that I visit its grave on holy days
to leave woven weeds,

but there is no grave because it is not dead--
only paralyzed like an aster when there is no wind,
no sun, no moon, no garden.

There is someone coming up the stairs
to hurt my heart, and they are so lit with beauty,
such an ordinary marvel.

The hallway floor is wood, the light there yellow in autumn.
It is morning, but the birds are mute.
My heart stops, the visitor walks past, the world ends,

but no one notices. There is no fool like an old fool,
no desire that cannot exalt or destroy,
over and over, in silence, like Shiva in a recurring dream.