There's a little boy
crying out into the night,
His mother's arms
hold him tight,
He puts his head
on her shoulder,
Nightmare dreams,
They disappear,
With a shudder he begins to feel,
a little sanctuary
so near.

There's a homeless man
sleeping outside tonight
behind the mall,
His beard is long,
His hair is *****,
He changed his clothes
in a thrift store
late last week,
the voices scream his name,
All he's looking for is
a little sanctuary.

There's a politician on
the stand
had *** with another man,
Tried methamphetamine
religion too,
Even hypocrites
are looking for
a little bit of sanctuary.

There's a woman on the road
tonight,
Two kids sleeping tight,
Johnny Walker's asleep
in front of the tv,
There's an internet
between her and her lover,
She turns up the music,
Patsy Cline's singing
Stand By Your Man,
All she's looking for, though, is a
little sanctuary.

The money's gone
the house is going,
The ***** is flowing,
The tears are rolling,
He steps outside
on the deck,
looks up at the stars,
Smokes a cigarette,
Looking for a little sanctuary.

Lover's up in a cabin loft,
twist and shout,
Grasping at straws,
Grasping each other,
Holding on tight,
For a moment of bliss,
Come on in,
Give'em a little sanctuary.

Insomniac mind,
Racing thoughts,
Won't shut off,
The days are long,
The nights are longer,
Every fear and dread,
Keeps raising their ugly head,
Quiet her thoughts,
She would if she could,
But all she can do is wait,
For a little sanctuary.

Soul survivor knocking on
the gate,
Waiting for the light,
Waiting for a world just right -
Putting away all sin and vice,
Hoping for a little sanctuary.

Garden Buddha sits on the path,
hands unfolded,
Quarter smile on his lips,
Serenity's smile,
Mastered the art of waiting
and just being,
A little sanctuary.

These poems I write tonight,
Words all tumbling
through my hand,
I don't know what I write them for,
I don't know where they go,
Where they land,
Only trying to see through
sanctuary's door,
maybe there's a little more,
A little bit left for me and you.

It can be so hard to find,
Maybe it's just a state of mind,
Sometimes so close
Sometimes so far,
We long for the day
to have the night,
We long for the night
to have the day,
But either way,
We're all just looking for
a little sanctuary.

the very same
moon
that friends Facebook photo send
from across the other side of the world?

startled awake at 3am,
the shining path beckons,
highlights my face,
thru sliding door windows

can it be my oldest companion
has returned?

"once more, I beseech,
journey to the beach,
walk upon our water, follow me,
silver warmth, guiding lights,
to the treasures of the night skies,
I am your obedient servant,
for you have mastered me,
come, go, world over,
it's been so long
since we flew, together"

"cannot, reply, I am older,
no longer bolder,
needed here, where,
the so, so many children sleep near,
and the one I promised to outlive,
and they need me, by and by"

"but so far friend,
have I travailed and traveled,
just to be with my sweet adulator,
even tho a celestial orb,
poet, I have, as well, moon needs"

"will rise up, press my eyes to the glass,
oh moon, old friend,
when I think glory and eternity,
you are permanent pressed upon my eyesight

soon enough,
will come looking for thee,
when I need not just think of glory and eternity,
the moment when the time arrives to spend eternity with you
forever patiently walking to greet you,
on the path you provide so gloriously"

I am your moon.
patience, I ken,
eons, meaningless.

I await you.

~~~
August 27 - 28, 2015
~~~~~
a true, continuing story, see below..

.
■■■■■■
|.....l.....|
|.....l.....|
• let the
ticks on
my wri-
st•mirr-
or   that
of     my
pulse    •
for  what
i fail to cle-
nch in fist•in
my heart, nev-
er falters; never
•••••dulls•••••
□□□□□■12■□□□□□
  ■11            ^              1■  
■10                 I                 2■  
■9                    ●----->         3■  
■8                                      4■
■7          ­                       5■
□□□□□□■6■□□□□□□
••••••for••••••
with each tick of
the hand • is a
glimpse into
the uncert-
ain future
• let  slip
the  loo-
se   gra-
ins     of
sand•c-
lose the
tempor-
al  gaps
to bring
you......
much
clos-
er•

~~~
someday soon gonna reread
the many poems over lifetime inked,
divvy them up by what's it about,
assemblage of the themes of me

review the who what when and weird
of this guy through his own eyes
confessions
~~~

blind all my life,
spent my capital human,
a life entire,
asking how, how does one see, ascertain an image's
veracity

guidance counselors counsel
see like me, but there was no guidance
in seeing whys through others eyes,
here now, creeping closer, and still unlearned
in the ways of vision visionary unique,
now the eyeglass case is closed,
that smack shut noise hearing,
and it occurs to me just now,
hearing my thoughts is a kind of seeing

♡><♡><♡

on bare boards
the glit'ring gause
graceful gesture found
an arabesque
an aching pause
apropos to concert sound

lithe lustrous girl
scarce woman grown
pours out her beating heart
to stretch with every
muscle owned
in pain for love of art

pure grace she is
just as a swan
soft white and deepest black
she sways and lilts
her own will gone
on point with arch of back

a strong male
who leaps and soars
stately carriage bounds
to show his love
unto his core
and sweep her
from the ground

no person in
the world knows
the dancer's struggle, care
they only see talent bestowed
as he lifts her in the air

the grueling practice
hour on hour
the hardship and the strain
taxing body til it's empowered
the tutelage of brain

hour on hour
same movement learned
feet bound until deformed
to ache, oh yes, to hurt and burn
'til she has perfect form

but all this pain
which we don't see
is never all for naught
for the roses she will be
for the applause
she's fraught

for when this girl
is on the stage
she will, as a swan, fly
and with great grace
she'll turn the page
and then, as woman

die


soulsurvivor
(C) 8/1/2015

~~~


one can strive for greatness
in the field of dreams
in medicine or business
in law for what it seems

academic achievement
reqires work and time
one can garner laurels
and be in their prime

but to find true excellence
in poetry as art
it won't be found in dusty tomes
it must be in your

HEART


soulsurvivor
(C) 8/15/2015