I'm waving the flag
A bitter off white
The color you choose
When you give up the fight
Throw in the towel
Calling it quits
I've had enough
Of the meaningless
Calling a truce
Ready to yield
Raising both hands
Out in left field
Not mock surrender
But the real thing
Along with the fat lady
I'm ready to sing
From here ever after
My tongue's gonna stop
Box up the chatter
Sweep up spilled guts
I'll nod along
As I'm read my writes
I'm now more than ready
To give up the fight

I wandered lonely as a rose by Autumn's gate
as I lay there in still repose, petals strewn      
I fell apart like dessert moon;
The scent that once perfumed my reign
were mellowed by September's rain
I drifted distant in the woods.
All my husks fell to the soil
each petal dried right where it stood    
No gardener's hand of hue embroiled
that filament that quivered slow  
like dying embers of nights glow
Shambled, windblown as the wind
beneath the last of summer's ray
regretfully I did rescind
As summer lost her fired splay
I wandered,
Lost and alone like a rose,
until the end of summer froze.

Derail your anxious train of thought

Open your inner spirit

And enter the dream corridor
like a leaf from a tree in its dying season

Coma come quiet
Airless linger delight

Sacrificial pasts
give you the power
to leave places

The world won't get better
but you will

(Fractured Fairytale #99)

beneath the bends of Barrymoor . . .

on the southwest winds she chants some more . .

the clouds scoot by beneath full moon . . .

some say she's crazy like a loon . . .

dressed in Black she cackles back while tossing ashes from a velvet sack . . .

then she throws her body down . . .

moans and sobs into the ground . . .

a dagger she does draw it forth . . .

holding high for all its worth . . .

she shrieks and damns her birth . . .

then plunges it into her heart . . .

. . . so ends the life of the young ****. . .


now the owls come fluttering in . . .

alighting next to still warm skin . . .

all walk around the disposed young beast . . .

only uttering "Who ?" to say the least . . .

then the Great Owl comes fluttering in . . .

he'd be a giant if he were made of men . . .

he collectively surveys the scene . . .

takes a few steps before he says a thing . . .

"Take her body to Evermore !" . . .

the great one does order and implores . . .

all all the owls take to wing . . .

holding the remains of the breathless thing . . .

and take her earthly shell away . . .

"To the sacred woods of Evermore ."

yes sacredness be in evermore .  . .

"where love is a song settling in the night"

you were the softness of feathers
and the harsh cadence of grief,
you were the sky’s frail mists
and its glittering pools.
in the warm indigos of summer
i welcomed you home,
the sea with its engine pistons
played loud harmonics,
it wasn't the noise but quiet
i wanted most, the way i wanted you,
star silent, drifting like a boat.