I promise to respect you
No matter what’s revealed
In assonance and in rhyme
In form and free verse
When you look to me for courage
I will lend a steady hand
I promise to persevere
No matter the position of the moon
In syllable counting and soul scraping
In haiku and villanelle
I will cherish the time you lend me
In frustration and in ease
I will wait for you
I promise to give you my all
No matter what I think I have left
Innovation and exercise
In reaching out and introspect
I will keep nothing for myself
But give to you freely
All that the spirit and bone of me
Will allow me to give

Once I had a garden,
built to spite my constant gloom.
I planted hope and happiness,
those seeds will never bloom.
I had hoped that all the rain,
would see the ground be rich.
But it seems my little cloud
has only proven to restrict.
Now within my garden,
but one lonely flower grows.
The oddest rose I've ever seen,
with petals made of bones.

Distance

























Given to birth loneliness


                                                    ­                                                    Space


Lie­s fill gaping mistrusts
Between

Barriers pierced
Walls of flesh sing
R  h  y  t  h  m  i  c

Beating

B
  l
   e
    e
     d
       i
        n
         g

Soul to soul
Alas, not heartfelt
Sinister lurks behind
Veils of deceit

One bond
          Two chances
Three minds
          For what?

The end
Unanimous
Defeat

Love is
                                 Wither
Love is
                                 Perish
Beautiful poison

Lust is
   Three

Lust is

Lust
    
        *is

So what do I think,

When wandering through

The hordes of armoured advice

That is offered in chains

Of expectation

That can close like a vice?

If they go to war

When you ignore

Their oh-so-nice

Advice,

It’s no advise at all,

But an order, a command,

A carefully concealed demand.

You can listen to it, sure,

But I’d sooner bed

the enemy.

Advise should be a gift,

Nothing taken, only this:

Remember what the Cat said,

“If they were right, I’d agree,

It’s them they know, not me”,

A fundamentally

Self-serving

philosophy.

Isn’t that the point?

Or do our friends think

We’re no longer free?

Keep your own council,

And leave my wars

To me.