I’ve heard it takes a lifetime to live a minute
and it takes a minute to live a lifetime.
You don’t know what you’re in until you’re in it,
and you don’t see the sun until the sunshine.
So I’ll resign to waiting in line,
wasting my time, and losing my mind.

I know when I’ve been beat,
so don’t be surprised if I retreat.
I’d rather face the music then face the heat,
rather ******* tears as they’re sweet;
as sweet as sweet defeat.

It takes only a second to start a war,
and then naturally all hell breaks loose.
Do you know which side you’re fighting for?
Did you even get to choose?
So I’ll resign to the front line,
biding my time searching for a land mine.

I know when I’ve been beat
so don’t be shocked if I move my feet
to find cover from the fire on the street.
At long last the circle is complete
and it’s as sweet as sweet defeat.

“I’ll get you and your little dog too”
it’s all I’m hearing, and it’s ringing true,
along with “what’s a poor boy to do?”
“You have a choice: red or blue”
do you dare turn reality askew?
Or take your chances and wait for lieu?

I know when I’ve been beat,
so don’t be worried if I take a seat.
I can’t win the battle and I won’t cheat,
I’ll be lamb to slaughter; made to meat
and I’ll taste as sweet as sweet defeat.

I write for the dreamers, lost in thought,
For every soul that battled and fought,
For those who wander in search of light,
And for the hearts sparked by the night.

I pen my words for the broken and mended,
For stories untold and lives suspended.
For whispers of love across the air,
And moments we share, beyond compare.

For the past that shapes, the future that gleams,
The valleys of sorrow, the peaks of dreams.
For the eyes that seek, and ears that listen,
In every tear, in every glisten.

I write for the silence, the voices unheard,
For passions ignited by the simplest of words.
For friends and foes, for strangers anew,
In every line, my heart rings true.

For kings and queens on thrones of gold,
And politicians with their stories told.
For children’s laughter, for parents’ pride,
For brothers and sisters, side by side.

In ink, I find the bridge to connect,
To amplify joys, to reflect and inspect.
But most of all, across all seas,
I write, my heart, I write for me.

Into the light,
Into the night,
Darkness abounds,
Faint are the sounds.
A sliver of light,
So ends the fight.
Freedom at last,
No air, then a gasp.
Soiled, degraded,
My cries unabated.

LIFE

My cries unabated,
Soiled, degraded,
No air, then a gasp.
Freedom at last,
So ends the fight.
A sliver of light,
Faint are the sounds,
Darkness abounds.
Into the night,
Into the light.

Tears of a rose
Will soak and stain
They're from her heart
They're stored up rain

They come from heaven
To flow down thorns
They sing in screams
From her lips torn

They can be acid
To burn the bloom
They can be crystal
Reflecting moons

The rose will open
In dead of night
The tears from petals
Refract the light

They cascade down
Drop from the leaves
For her soul
She sits and grieves

For her soul
The drops fall down
They feed her roots
Under the ground

They bring her back
The legend goes
There's healing in

Tears of a rose


Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
SøułSurvivør
(C) 10/3/2017


I was talking to a friend back in '16. Praying with her. She just endured a tremendous life setback. Said she couldn't stop crying. This metaphor came to my mind. This poem is for my dear friend. It is my sincerest hope that it brings healing.

Happiness is not a word
I'm fond of
my music has tears
for those who have heard-

I'm lonely and unwell
life is but a veil of sorrow
so heavy does it hover
upon me-- wherever I go-

I compose best at night
when the day's harshness no longer does burn
a mysterious force guides my hand
the outcome is my every weeping nocturne-

longing, dreaming, melancholy
are found in my every note
I care not for the light of day
only for longer  hours of night I hope

I never understood why people cry over heartbreaks
perhaps because I cry over my family's financials
or that my parents never loved each other
or that my sister's attempting suicide
perhaps I understood that love is just a burden
from the endless divorce courts choosing sides
or the endless fights over our school's fees
that's why love was never a curiosity
it's a plauge that I tremendously avoided
I know it's meant to be that way,
to survive, I must be on my own
if love arrived,
prepare to bury me
for acknowledging things and feeling them
will destruct every piece of my existence

Is like dancing in the rain
Letting go of a string of feelings,
Swinging on a rainbow of thoughts,
A soft whisper,
A cry of joy,
A beat of the heart.
And just as first rain drops kiss the earth,
The petrichor of words,
Hits the senses,
To pen beautiful poetry.
31/12/2024

casts huge leaf shadows on dirt
and the mockingbird's mocking me.

"mockingbird,"
I put my hands in my pocket
and pretend a smile,
"some things you can't out run,
church bells and a wedding dress,
funeral processions and baptisms,
the cop car radio,

she was so beautiful in her wedding dress,"

I'm pointing my finger up at the mockingbird,
"so I'm a few steps ahead of you in heartache,

it was a toss of the dice,"I tell the bird,

"I threw a handful of rice."

"so don't look sad at me, bird.
everyone gets hurt."

and on her branch in the sycamore tree
the mockingbird's crying to me...

"I'm a few years ahead you...
Sweet One, lonely bird.

I've walked through fire,
stared into the wall of shadow and sorrow
into the cold silence of tomorrow.

I hear what you're telling me, Dear One,
loves been a little ******* you, too,

and there in illusion lies the danger
so please be kind, my friend,

the sorrows that never seem to fade away
become the grey, dark sea,
and sunlight through the Sycamore tree.