Strange,
To be loved.
Odd,
To be forgotten.
Cold,
To be abandoned.
Harsh,
To be acquainted.

Yet desired,
To be held.
Loathed,
To be alone.

My emotions shaded grey.
My actions swayed with the wind.

Fortunately
you are not my muse

I've worn out muses
by the dozens
cast them aside
like chaff
and cherished the sorrow
that ensued

Sadness was my calling card
my tragic handshake
a testament to a life
gone wrong

Age improved me
I survived the madness
came back to life
gasping for air

And so to your door
to spin the wheel
of language
to glory in its intricacy

Two poets alive
in the same century
two restless souls
under one uneasy roof

We will survive our families yet
raise a toast
when the day comes
to the dear
and thankfully departed

We'll leave poetry
like confetti in our wake
and touch the holy stone
once or twice yet
in our lives

I pray it will be so.

1218

Let my first Knowing be of thee
With morning’s warming Light—
And my first Fearing, lest Unknowns
Engulf thee in the night—

dazzling seed
of water and flesh
here are your toes!
hear your wail!

a shock in lopsided time

take your father's paltry
proud, untidy praise,
whisper it to your own reflection
off the river of the universe

yarn an incandescent voyage
beyond the gaudy shores of
humanities crooked beaches

between your ears sloshes
a makeshift promise of meaty
hope

fill your pockets with courage,
climb stupendous trees of ambition
and grin for luck

fill your mouth with laughter,
spit it on pointless hate
and pack a secret love for everyone

fill your skull with warlike wit,
pour it on the ******, the bitter
and stuff your soul with wildflowers

eat these words with
your heart

my hope,
my inspiration,
my child.

through words,
I heal my wounds
by completely exposing them

I have been left
            floating
     my arms out
in mid-action
as if to stop
what might have always
             inevitably come        
                   and I am dangling
above forest and brush
            above wild animals
          who look at me
in wonder
my goddess energy
in temporary shock
      my grief
billowing behind me
like an 18th century gown
in a black cloud of mourning
it threatens to
drown me completely
but my secret weapon
      is to let it ride its course
              to feel it in all intensity
For I know
this will pass
I will be ok
and so I let it go
untethered
like a river's rushing current
like a pocket of turbulence
like a storm that whips up,
engulfing quiet
in sudden froth
my hair flows
      like a manga warrioress,
about to strike
her revenge upon the Earth
rage in arrows that pummel
your confused, bruised heart
where truth hides
within layers
upon layers of
     veiled
night air

It's easy to hear the loneliness in her voice
As she speaks she has no one to talk about, there's just no choice

She talks about the good old days
Filled with love and compassion all was just a faze

Loneliness is when you cry
There's no one there to make her smile or dry her eyes

No one to help with the demons inside her head
No one to subside the discomfort of pain from deep inside

The demons are here to prey on the misguided brain
She continues to hide her pain

Only to give into the loneliness of despair
Her loneliness has only become a reality because nobody cares

Trying to fade away loneliness has taken its toll
On her soul

Sound of loneliness is silent
She doesn't hear the birds singing with great talent

She doesn't feel the sun shining
People pass her by as if she doesn't exist so she starts declining

She wishes her heart could love again highly unlikely loneliness has become her only way of life
She remains unable to feel due to the coldness in her heart stuck by a knife