“I love you like the moon.”

         “I’d do anything to see that smile.”

                      “I’m standing on a roof
               and the tingle of the edge
                          reminds me of you..”

                 “Anything, anything for those eyes.”

            “Do you want the gifts I have for you?
        *Nope, I just want you.
                 Kay, I’ll wear a bow.
         I’ll wear a bow too..”

                              too,
               too,
too,

  girdled,
       packed up,
   ensnared, stacked, ****** up -
  
      All fickle,
   molded, folded
           to the point where the paper
         starts to tear,
                    
   “One day, we’ll get married.”

Cold,
    recycled feelings
   and you still don’t care?
Care enough to play nice
   with the frail beast
          at your feet,
  the silent song
whisking
   the oil
                 and
         water
  into grey -
      
    “A fantasy –that’s what you are to me..”

Vacuous games
    you still like to play -

   as if
      I were a fool, too,
                     like him –

       or a fool, too,
                               like you -

  not to see how bad you are,
             how sad you are,

           lonesome,

         aching baritone
     deceiving a different home
       with the loudness still in your lap,

       ended with that slap,
        started, again, with that stare,
      that glare into a promise,
          a dream worth more while
        than a bed full of loveless tricks
             and a jealous heart
                rung out,
        back in the back,
           where the bees feast
                on all the hot meat
            swallowed,
      inhaled by your salty appetite

                              for sadness,
                                 contrived madness,

              again,
              again,
             ­ agrain?,
              again,
              again?,
          ­    again,
              a_pain -

                  ****,

ungird me from this swaddling love cocoon,
                     unshackle me,
                         untie me from this camouflaging lie,
                                       unwind me,
                                    unbind me,

              don’t blanket me with all
               you think I want to hear…

        if you don’t want me -
             let me love another      


        “..almost like it gives you joy crushing me so hard -
                   all I’ve done is love you.”

The poem,
In the hands of the reader,
Marks the time with rhythm
Which holds the words
That point beyond the page.

Like the rising sun
Which gives the earth its first light,
You give the poem to the mind
That finds you in the page
When it points to its beyond.

But yesterday still beckons
The mind that contemplates
The poem that gives the invitation
To leave it all behind…

I love the sky in Spring, with all its beautiful hews.  
Deep pink and misty whites, and a plethora of blues.

I love the waters in Summer, the cool upon my face.
To sit and watch the water, like a dancer full of grace.

I love the trees in Autumn, and how they start to change.
Each leaf a color of its own., not one exactly the same.

I love the coldness of Winter, how you can see your breath.
But oh how quickly Spring will come again, upon Winter’s death.

I treat my brain like this paper.
I write and draw over every inch
until not even a single letter can fit.
Scattershot pieces of ideas lay freshly inked
on the surface…

Then I rip everything apart.

It’s convenient looking upon the confetti rips
strewn over the ground.
It’s so much easier to find the doodles and words
I forgot about long ago.
  
But I always fasten it together again,
though perhaps not the same way each time.
Sometimes, I make animal shapes like butterflies
or a pouncing tigers held together with safety pins.
Other times I just  slather glue on the pieces
then drop them on construction paper.

Should I so choose,
I have complete control as to where each doodle is placed.
Ripping allows me to see every angle of my brain
thus allowing me to see every angle of the world I inhabit.

I do this often,
for fear if stopped
friends and strangers won’t find me
objective or comforting.
The ripping saves my brain from staying sedentary
and saves me from living complacently.

So celebrate with bread and wine,
With meat and lager,
With laughter and song,
And the slippery kiss of that woman,
Eyeing you from over there.

Outside your door ... another awaits.
One who has always been near,
Persuading you with stars.
Promising nothing, yet granting everything.

It is inconceivable,
So I won't even bother.

But with each passing day,
You step closer to that revelation,
Whether by choice or by fate.
And when the door opens for you,
You may find yourself holding a cold hand.
Her skin is stone, unforgiving, and rigid.
Her silent steps follow close behind.

Your shadow. Your mistress.

*Regret

Breathe the sweet breath of life,
sink into the serenity of the universal stillness,
the true heaven.

I see the thoughts as emptiness,
and lightly touch them to let go.

Further & further I fell in this spiritual vortex
of the present moment,
and then I see what everyone calls "God."

I begin to weep those subtle tears of peace
because my worries & resentments have finally been released.

Another thought arises like a cloud covering the sun,
but my light is not gone. Again I light blow the cloud away.
Back to the stillness of "Now" where I belong & where I stay.

Oh, take me away sweet breath of mine,
let the stillness of the Now always shine.

I want....."I".....want.......turns into "I need!"

For so long I have been a slave
to my own mind's "wanting".

Obeying all its/mine thoughts,
only from fear of the temptation's haunting.

Within my own mind,
I weld the shackles that blind my wings.

From these thinking thoughts is only emptiness,
and I'm aware but still chasing after empty things.

Why am I a slave to myself?

I thought that God granted free will to all man-kind......
....now I wonder if I'm man's kind.

But within the power of "Now"
....within the power of my "Being,"
I realized that not wanting to want is still a want,
I have been looking but now I'm seeing.

Be aware....be aware..."BE"......awareness!

I cry,
those subtle tears that fall from the sky.

Not from pity,
but from the insanity of all man-kind.

I wish....I wish for a hope that could dry these tears,
a hope that will shed light into the dark minds of my children.

Why do you hide your eyes my love,
though you see me grasping for only a single glance?
You lower you head to leave a dark shadow that veils your face,
but i know you're not only hiding from me.....you hide from yourself.

I cry for you to open that stale heart ,
and stretch those crippled legs.
To raise your head to the endless skies and weep for that lost love,
and then you will see me still looking for those hidden eyes.

I reach out a hand of love to wipe away those old resentful tears,
and I will smile.....for you...with you...through you.

That is the true light that rains from our inner heart into the sky above,
for all to bask in its warmth!!!