SUMMER MARCHES IN
(Movement no. 1)

It comes crashing down
like doom.
A martial fanfare
begins a long conversation
questioning fate,
arguing for the human condition,
and for death's open invitation,
which we dare not deny.

WHAT THE MEADOW FLOWERS TELL ME
(Movement no. 2)

Their blooming voices
are oboes and lush violins.
The sun is surely brassy bright
in the sky above.
Radiant alpine flowers
and woodwinds
from deep within their burrows
make the case
for a music well tended
and serenely fed
by sweet springs emerging from the depths
here below.

WHAT THE CREATURES OF THE FOREST TELL ME
(Movement no. 3)

The life force
tends to run amok.
Yet things do not fall apart,
the center still holds.

And though it is mundane -
pedestrian, at times -
we cannot deny the joy in this life,
nor do we wish to.

But know, traveler,
that submerged in every caldron of joy
is a small *** of darkness.
And it will find you
or you will find it -
not only because it is fated,
but for the sake of your sanity.

WHAT MAN TELLS ME
(Movement no. 4)

Here darkness sings.
Again the plucked string.
O Mensch!
You tell the tale!
You take this story
back to the mountain.

A woeful tale you bring,
but it is gilded with joy.

A chorus exalts your condition.
Deep is its grief,
but joy is deeper still.

WHAT THE ANGELS TELL ME
(Movement no. 5)

Bimm Bamm
Bimm Bamm
the children's choir
sweetly intones.
And what, pray tell,
do Angels have to say to us?

I've heard about love
I've heard about emptiness
I've heard about absence
without presence,
about nothingness and the void.

But I have never heard such singing!

WHAT LOVE TELLS ME
(Movement no. 6)

Sweet the air we breathe.
Pleasant the sights before us.
Words are stilled,
anxious thoughts banished.

There is nothing on Earth
or in Heaven
that disputes this sweet resolution
all the parts made whole
Nothing that could possibly
speak against it
(though French Horns will have
their interests heard).

But here it is.
The end.

O Mensch
come to your last and best
resting place.

Also sprach Gustav Mahler.

you are jealous,
you are jealous,
you are jealous....

gorgeous star,
gorgeous sea,
wind wild in my hair,

you are so jealous.

I feel lonely every time I think of you;
My first love
I thought I found the perfect match for me;
The match for my heart
But you slipped away between my fingers
Now you belonged to me no more;
The saddest sad

I must fight each day and night to live and love again;
Like I used to be
I'm counting on time to pass quickly but time is infinity;
Eternity is a long time
What is wrong with me?
Do others feel the same way or is it only me, myself and I?
So, so crazy for you

I would wait every morning and evening;
Even for eternity
Until you come back
Whether in this life or the next
I want to be with you forever and a day;
My first love.

I’m walking away from vulnerability and closing my heart off, I’m better off using my heart less.
I was close to the cliff like Clair Huxtable but a part of me felt like jumping off.
I probably look like a fool right now, expressing all my feelings in full right now.
I’m hurting and I know that I’m not perfect; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
You are the words I tried to say when my mouth was shut and my larynx was flooded with silence.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining, when the wind is blowing and my coffee has gone cold.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
Somewhere in my heart there’s a void, a void that I hopelessly walk around trying to avoid.
You made letting go seem so easy, detachment was always something you were good at.
I wish that you receive everything that I couldn’t give to you, there’s so much of myself that I could sacrifice.
I hope that it was all worth it – you abandoning the home you’ve made in me.
A friend once told me, *“Don’t make homes out of people because they always leave and take everything you own with them.
Or better yet, they stay and ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”

I get high off my lows when my life is rapidly moving out of control.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
I love waking up whole to the bonfire of a warm and loving soul.
But I know that you will eventually grow tired of me somehow they all do.
Diligently dealt with depression before and I’ve been silently subjected to a detrimental allure.
This obsession with depression will have me in a state of regression.
I have visions of nightmares when the night stares, this is my confession.
I have been falling apart while trying to piece together my broken heart.
Love does not know the pain it heals and pain does not know the love it seeks.
The doors of my closet lead to a graveyard that has been burdened with my endeavours of trying to be someone worthy of your love.
Depression hit harder than the recession, it had me regressing and constantly questioning my level of progression.
I wish someone had told me that drugs come in the form of people too.
If someone alerted me then I wouldn’t have fallen so deep in love with you.

You were always online but never on line in all ways.
For days on end, my calls and messages would go ignored and unanswered.
I left my heart far away from the margin on a page that was carelessly ripped out from my book of thoughts.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
At around 2 a.m. in the morning I am usually up thinking about you with no hope of finding sleep.
I am usually up listening to a wide variety of songs that exceptionally complement my melancholic mood.
It’s hard walking away from a girl whose arms I’ve always wanted to run into.
What should I do now with the love that I’ve always wanted to give to you?
As I toss and turn, my earphones inevitably become as tangled up as the words I’ve tried to say to you.
The words that I have tried to say to you are now slowly suffocating me.
These words keep depriving me of the air that I need to breathe when I think about the greatness that we both could be.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.

oh liar, liar
accusations shared by ear
finding awful truth

Into the darkness I went..  No one comes back..  I went through knowing all of this.  But I just had this feeling.  I knew the light would be with me.  Even if it was just a small glow.  It was still light.  As I passed on through I saw what was causing all of the darkness to bleed through our world. An ancient evil that has awaken during our darkest times.  There was no light at all.  For a moment I felt it had left me.  But then I closed my eyes in darkness.  Through my closed eyes I saw memories.  Memories of us.  Our family in the sun.  Me holding you in the moonlight.  The colors begin to swirl into my mind.  Its then I truly knew what could make all of this darkness run away in all directions.  I then felt this beautiful warmness.  I knew where it was coming from.  I knew it was my belief! Simply believing in something that I have no proof existed was enough to make me shine here in this wicked darkness.   The evilness here begin to scream as it ran away from the sun that was now shining.  The sun was me.  Son of man.  Sun of the sky..  Son of the sun.   I could never go back to them now.  But I knew they could see me everyday I rise in the morning.  They will always know that is me. Bringing light to their eyes.  Bringing day to the night.  Good morning to you all..  Ill be here tomorrow.. And then the next day, and so forth.

I never hear them when they speak
only hours later
in the painfully lit basement of my home
with earphones and patience
do their words reach me
such was the case last October
I was driving through Wilderness, Virginia
for the first time and happened to pass
Saunders Field and caught sight of the plaque
that stood at the bottom of the hill
and a trail that led into the woods
where the fierce skirmishes took place
it was a bit chilly and windy
and the road nearby was busy with passing cars
not an ideal place for an EVP session
but I felt compelled to try
and walked the edge of the woods
then a short portion of the trail
I asked many questions directly to anyone
who may be listening
'How many souls perished here?'
'Are you one of those souls?'
'Did you suffer?'
'Why do you stay or visit this place?'
as usual, I heard no voices during the 18 minutes
of questioning
however, the presence was undeniable
I was not alone here
this I knew
on the way back down the hill to leave
I reached out one final time;
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now'
again I heard nothing, turned the recorder off
and departed

it was several days before I could return home
and review my recording
but my curiosity as always
grew stronger the longer I had to wait
I was disappointed as I began to listen
nothing heard as each minute passed
only the whisper of wind and cars
until I came to my final question in those last moments...
'I have about 20 seconds left, so if you'd like
to say something, please say it now.'

'Leave me under the ground........human'