I’ve searched, I’ve lost, I cannot find,
My friend and constant companion.
Where he went, indecipherable to me,
I’ve lost him yet again.

So back I go to the world of ticking clocks,
Of passing time and children growing older.
To see if he is sill-bound still;
If he lingered when I left.

The window’s threshold does not halt me,
Or the fairy that ensues me.
Distracted- shut her in a drawer,
Find my comrade- Laying on the floor.

Shadow! I have found him now,
But why refuse to stick to me?
No facile falling into place,
No soap will stick his feet to mine.

I jump and squirm and shriek at him,
And dampness fills my eyes for him,
Until a sweet voice breaks the dawn,
Needle, kiss, and thread in hand.

She ties us close at tips of toes;
And Shadow fights for Shadow knows!
He, who long has gone astray,
Life of elusion left to boast!

Dirt roads wind with hours’ distance
And a green canopy stretches,
Suspended above the bare core of trees.
Pine nettles rest year long,
Settled into their collective bed.
Still water fingers the shore,
Smoothing out its stress lines,
Imbedded in the granite lake floor.
Here, towering mountains with impairing storms,
Wild wind, and impetuous fog
Stands in the crystal clarity
Given by reality.
When night comes, bringing with it
A dark unimpeded with polluting lights,
The stars outnumber their dark counterparts,
Leaving no expansion of space
Without a twinkle
Or a holy glowing light.

Left again, I miss you so;
Sorry that you had to go.
A rolling stone, on back you'll come
Tenacious pain gone slack to numb.

I long for years too far ahead
When rose-colored glass has lost its red.
And love between us, strictly true
When time has let me to be with you.

Never broken, I wish we be.
And olden years do grant us see
I know our hearts, as strong as one,
Will bind us when this wait is done.

My soul, so dark, what things it lures!
What things that writhe into my pores!
With teeth like stones
they devour my bones,
And slip past my heart's ice locked doors.

My soul, so dark, with evil it teems.
It blinds you and, and breaks you, with ravens' black screams
Stream into flood,
It chokes you with blood,
And send shadows to skulk and to stalk through you dreams.

My soul, so dark, what demons it hives!
What demons that pose as emotion's disguise!
It robs you your trust,
It's blinded by lust,
And forever it lies, and it lies, and it lies.

My soul, so dark, what hell it demands!
What hell, that will grab you with soot-covered hands!
Its fires go on,
In the dark, in the dawn,
And the devil will curse you and laugh his commands.

My soul, so dark, what sadness it sighs,
What sadness that fills out your head with its cries!
The heartache that breaks,
From tears, into lakes
And strength that burns up, withers, and dies.

I am weary.
I must stretch my limbs,
And never let show,
The knots they bear.

I am tired.
The wells beneath my eyes are tinged,
As if to mimic a bruise,
And seem to have no intention of clearing.

I'm wiped.
Ready to let my heart relax.
And if anyone wakes me up,
I'll knock them out.

Capture ice
Meld it to your dreams
Take the stars
Bind them at the seams
Grasp the earth
Fist it into stone
Cradle my soul
Leave it not alone.
Gather the trees
Bend them into bloom
Swallow the sky
Break off grey and gloom
Embrace the falling waters
Wipe their tears away
Relieve the straining mountains
Set them down to lay.
Brace my shaking shoulders
Warm me with your touch
Reap the wandering shadows
Trap them in your clutch
Claim my quivering heart
Take it all and whole
Be my love forever
Be my heart and soul.

I looked up at the soft blue sky, eyes wide with wonder.
Above me, a bird cries for a fallen child; I shiver at her sad song.
A pedestrian gave me a daring pat, it was obvious I didn’t belong.
The world surrounding was mysterious, all emotions were quite mild.
No depth were in these people, no soul; no light.
No life was in their eyes; no being contained the sense of sight.
I searched for one alike myself, but all their stares were blank. In my loneliness, I remained; and let out  a soulful cry.

The entrance winds behind an imperceptible dirt road,
And if you pass too quickly, its glamour won’t yield;
Tricking you.
Chances are slim that you will pass it again.
But if you peek, and pry, and probe-
Fooling the glamour to slip a little,
The part in the trees will open to you.

Through the leaves,
Over the natural bridge,
And you come upon it.
Indian Steps.
Where smoke curls amid your hair,
And drumbeats school your heart’s own thrum.

The lake will lap on stony shores,
And voices, oscillate past you.
Here, the only shining thing is the sun through autumn leaves,
The only siren a steady note,
Drawn from the deepest woods and threaded through a flute.
The trees’ leaves embrace its call,
And give it back, lovely in their mimicry.
Just like the others who catch their eye here,
You will always choose to stay.

I am as the ocean,
I am a wave of many things,
On the surface I am a plain blue desert,
endless and unchanging.
I am as the ocean,
on my coasts, come tidal waves,
however, on my shores the emotions
break into a million, foamy things.
One may step into my waters,
But will never know my depth.
                            For I am as the ocean.
                            I am a wave of many things.

There is a stream that drifts below me,
Not lingering, it seeps away.
The water creeps around the rocks
and ebbs with mindful swiftness.

I close my eyes and listen;
Ignore the wind that sticks my skin
And if I hear the brook below,
Then perhaps I will return to you.

I crane for twinkling, water moving,
Hear nothing, not at all.
No whisper of the whipping wind
that dances on the water.

Water flows, as infinitely restrained,
As blood that surges from a wound.
It hurts to see; this hurts to hear;
Just nothing, loud as silence.

Rejoice, rejoice
Sing once, sing twice.
Let's gather here.
Bring your brothers
Bring your sisters,
We'll make music
Under the setting sun.
Red dirt, underfoot
All of you, and me
We'll make a memory.
We'll touch the sky,
My friends
And make harmony
And dream of Peace.

The snap of sparks from cloth on skin
                         lifts
The hope that         from dark to dim.
The sound of rain-
                                 and groaning trees.
A storm's great bowels, a rumbling breeze.
The lilting scent of sweetened air,
Skin on skin, that's soft; that's fair
A sky that waves with colors afar,
A glow that blinks in a child's jar.
The whipping  rise of adrenaline rush,
                                                           ­          The peaceful repose of a library's hush.
The winter's bite; the wind's white claws,
The child shrieks, the crow, caws.
                                     on
The hair that stands                  at night.
                                            end
The awe that strikes the morning light.
    The two-faced smoke that ~swirls~
                                                                ­that chokes.
That clever doubt, that probes- that pokes.
The pitch that screams a piercing beat!
                              ~the air that soothes the ceaseless heat~
Cigar smoke, and creaking doors;
                                                          ­stealth that fails by squeaking floors.
A favored picture, in weary frame,
The roll of tongue on a lover's name.
The smell of coffee, fresh and
                                                     deep
The Forever Memories our minds will keep.

I stand behind a pane of glass,
it's tinted, from outside.
Friends in front will speak to me,
But they see only their tinted reflections.

I've often wondered, while I walk,
and watch as people pass,
Why when their glance turns to me,
None will meet my eye?

I'm a listener, you should know,
I listen, rarely speak.
My life's a bore, why should I?
But I wish that they would care.

When I do speak,
they look away, and they cringe inside.
I know its lame, I know, I heard.
And I wish my mouth stayed shut.

I'd meet a lesson kindly,
if it'd dilute my window's tint.
But for now, I watch, as clear as day,
While they speak to me through darkened glass.

Billowing, bounding, bumping,
through a cracked, white door
a bouncy, fluffy, white puppy flies.

The ground is soaked, saturated.
From the ever melting snow.
Water rises, water falls,
with a step upon the grass.

The breeze blows cold, shivering,
Stings my face in welcome.
It should be so, I think to myself.
The snow is melting still.

The puppy barks, sharp and clear,
but I bear no notice there.
For on the wind, there's something strange.
A smell that's out of place.

It makes me miss the summer sun,
It makes me miss the green.
Miss the sound of a rushing stream,
and a cloudless, sky of blue.

A smell so strange, I chase it,
As it whips away with the wind.
It stops me at the glaring gate,
And laughs in a freeing voice.

Come back! I wish it,
But in vain, I smell it nevermore,
I miss the smell as it's gone,
Flower petals mixed with rain.

Quiet
...resolve
The voices are the tiniest hum-
-clashing as only voices can...
They all lift;
And.
Are.
No.
More.

I stepped upon a dream
One day
My darling love and me.
It brought about
A kiss without
The weight of modesty.

Music wafted
Through the glass
And it's beauty beckoned me.
His voice rang high
To where I lie
Upon the balconey.

He sang with
Golden radiance
In the grass below,
A bird joined in,
Sang with her kin
Her breast as white as snow.

The song she sang
Was charming,
Full of subtle simplicity.
The love was there,
But none compare
To the song he sang for me.

He  never thought he'd live this way
He thought he'd have a wife some day
Instead he's in this silent spin
Alone in just some strange man's skin
For endless days and endless nights
There's no one to turn out the lights
And kiss him with a sleepy sigh
To lay with as the night goes by
So now he trudges right through life
As meaningless as the silver knife
He put up to his throat and sliced
And thought about his wasted life.

In groups of three,
Me, Myself, and I.
In three sentences,
I miss. I live. I sleep.
In three words,
Not Quite Enough.
In three syllables
Ex-Haust-Ed.

Did you ever dream of trees
Of living in the mountain breeze
To cling to faces made of rock
To float beyond your cabin's dock.
Have you dreamt of flying high?
To wave goodbye and search the sky
To meld with rock and sand and soil
To wrap with oak roots tangle and toil
Have you ever been like me,
And wish to roam the great blue sea
Or look a lion in the eye
To feel it live, to feel  it die
For if you know, for if you've tried
Then nothing makes you run, you hide
But if you still live in fear
Then you don't deserve those dreams my dear.

Thick is the mass upon his head
Long is the pass before his tread
Green are his eyes that close slow to sleep
Pain is his prize when his cuts run deep.
Grim are his features when his losses are great
Though tears are rare creatures once he's buried their weight.
Praised by hell below and heaven above,
He walks the path for his one true love.

No solace comes from solid walls,
No warmth from wooden floors
I feel no freedom from closing doors,
Nor life in well lit halls.
Great tumult comes from twisting trees
And sun makes shimmering snow.
No fences block my way to go,
And branches bear no broken leaves.

What life I leave with lives behind,
I'll miss in the land of weightless souls
They'll feel my warmth in flame-less coals,
And my loss will leave their hearts defined.
With my running brothers, I go,
And take no view behind my shoulder,
Yet, I'll watch them as they all grow older,
And await them with my joy in tow.

Autumn is current, in time and in motion.  
Swirling around me and sweeping the ground in giggling whirlwinds.
           Warm air and cold dabble in each other for a short while.

                          The leaves still waver, undecided.
                                Half quite progressive,
  Already in the fiery transformation that brings their lives to a close.
                                       Half lingering,
             Watching their brothers’ change with green faces.

        I help them along, waiting all night for them to change.
    Then fall, fluttering in indecision for their final resting place.
I catch them lightly, delicate and brittle, and lay them down together.

I once knew a man,
One who played all the instruments,
And sang all the tunes,
And cried with the lullabyes when children bedded down.
And when I last met him,
On Father's High Hill
He told me, "Music is the only language you are born with."

I once knew a lady,
One who met with all the people
And loved with all her heart
And laughed when she saw the children run.
And when we last spoke,
In the summer's suburbs,
She told me, "We live to await the next emotion."

I once knew a couple,
One who lived with all their might,
And climbed every cliff,
And carried all the children in thier shoulders.
And when we last past,
In Leconte's thickened forest,
They told me, "Trying times are not the times to stop trying."

I once knew all of those people
And sang and loved and lived,
And played with my fellow children.
And when I last saw them,
Through the course of my life,
I would reply simply, "That's a truth to live by."

In the Night, in the Day
When the Storm has left the rain
and my loving you is deep,
You will lay by my side
in a Room too light to hide
any monsters from waking our sleep.
And the sun, she will rise!
and banish high tides
'til the moon again walks her shores.
And when spring bluebirds sing
with me in morn' again,
Ne'er am I anything but yours.

I haven't caused a pain that isn't
Caused -itself- by me.
Small worries vest and fester here,
But never breathe the air.

Oh! But how they follow me,
Come once, and then again.
They'd never matter, as they're said,
Refrained, they are unfair.

Forgone once! Forgone twice!
Oh how they grow in sway,
The words, withstood- Be that, they should!
Are they too much to bear?

The bait of breath- to and fro,
My mind is witless as I go
Certain my words are last to fall,
Does the last word matter at all?

Actions are words in disguise,
Should I look into your eyes?
Arms uncrossed to rest regression
Have I schooled my expression?

Do you find me strange and senseless?
why do I feel so defenseless?
Best to leave it straight and civil,
Lest I'm somewhere but the middle

Amidst discomfort! Amidst uncouth!
How I tire of my youth.
Ever gauche, tact and class-less
I've never been a gifted actress

Can someone teach me how to see
What everyone else wants me to be?