Upon entering the orchestra pit to take my
chair, I noticed someone else was sitting there.
My ressentiment was without notes;
therefore, I was unable to emote.
With my head hanging down,
I felt chagrined because no one
would allow me in.

Up the dark streets I began to walk,
pondering my dreary thoughts.
What had happened to cause this rift?
Perhaps I never possessed a gift.
The playing of the music was sublime
but maybe it was just imagined
in my mind.

It's very quiet and lonely on ths block
except for the ticking of a clock.
The time has come for me to step outside
the fray and determine if there is value
in what I have to say.

White silk cascading
a bedrock of black pearls
descending into a turquoise
pool of equanimity
in a yawning valley,
a picture album of beauty.

I was a naked dandelion
standing alone.
You picked me up
then blew me away.
All that's left are footprints
of a master manipulator.

Squandering time chasing
snowflakes has resulted in
the melting of my dreams.
Ripened pears that hung
on tres like teardrop
earrings were never tasted.
Their delicious sweet liquid
evaporated into
shriveled up hopes.

Exquisite formulations of
fecundated seeds were
not harvested.
A garden of splendor
was left unattended.
Blankets were not dispensed
when the coldness crept in.

A cradle once filled with
monumental potential
has fallen from a
mighty redwood.
Consternatin now serenades
this withering prodigy.

I'm living between nowhere,
years stolen from my life.
The world has capsized.
Where do I fit in?

I had so many things to say,
but words they eluded me
after I plunged into his eyes
which were a beckoning river
promising me dreams and adventure.

Silence is now drowning my fantasies.
Like a firefly, I take refuge where
no one can follow me.
Was his love real or just brief
moments of intoxication and delirium?

He pried gingerly
removing the petals
from my heart
without crushing
the bloom so long hidden.

He doesn't have to say a word.
His simmering gaze, his smile
like a diamond sparkling
tells me everything
I need to know.

But when he said
he liked me more than
hunting, fishing, football
and his power tools,
well, I knew it was love.

Silence is the new décor
of our home.
Empty chairs with broken bones.

Fading colors of dreams
now accent the
brokenhearted theme.

Windows once holding a
picturesque view are now
shaded with dingy colored hues.

A man and a woman walk
in polar directions
no long aware of their imperfections.

Silent are the voices
that used to sing love songs.
When did this marriage go wrong?

Softly she cries at their
bedroom door as she whispers,
"I don't love you anymore."

Someone I loved has gone away
taking half my existence.
Her imprints remain all over my heart.
Tiny museums of personal randomness
are all that's left.

Her chiseled beauty was made of
silky clouds, stardust, moonlight
and sonatas powered by the sun.
Memories of her rise up like
a sweet grape arbor.

I wear the perfume of her life
like a welcoming embrace.
Flowers wither, but her
perfume lasts forever.
I'm blossoming in the glow
of my mother's aura.

Death is no enemy, but rather the
foundation of gratitude, sympathy,
and art of all life's pleasures.
Only love owes no debt to death.
My mother's love will linger long after
the wind has erased her footprints
from the universe.