Build* your *new illusion
                                       on
                               The bones of your **reality

is it the dream or the possibility
the want or the need
the pull within is ripping
at the fabric of my being
who I am and how I am made
are too quickly blowing away
the goal of the long term
is changing now, today
the past begets the future
that is on the verge of change
and dreams that lay awake
can cause your plans to rearrange

Tiny pieces of you
Linger in my very being
Burning embers of brimstone
Sulfur fills each breath
I stop to smell the roses
They turn to ash at my touch
At you within me
Particles spread as I cough you up
Multiplying in the air
Dancing with joy
At their new-found freedom

Tiny pieces of you
Rotting my soul and consuming my spirit
Burning pinholes in my brain
Memories burned away
Shadow of pain still sore, still raw

Lingering, lingering, lingering

Instant gratification.  Instant disappointment.  Dreams of yesterday and a blind tomorrow. Talk of closing doors and opened windows does not quell fear.  The unknown is too familiar.  Teetering on the precipice of what was and what will be.  The path is unlit.  In darkness all is equal.  There is no direction.  There is no certainty but that any motion will let gravity take hold.  Falling, falling, falling.  Blindfolded by emotion, a lightless tunnel.  Hoping only to land on the side facing forward.  

Thrown into change
Dragged into tomorrow
Clawing the past

Status quo has been erased.  Eradicated by others.  There is no escaping pain, there is no eluding fear.  Time stood still for ages and the clock has begun to tick in time with the very heartbeat of life.  There is more, more to be desired, more that is deserved, more life to live, more joy to find.  How bad is the hunger?  How strong the need? Driven by hope or fear, or both but driven.  Driven to a new sense of self.  A renewed confidence found only through the art of release.

**Tides will ebb and flow
Sun rises in the morning
Change is imminent

A year's worth of growing
again by her side
So much time to become knowing
how I handle, how I hide
This year I wrote a poem called "Plates,"
which subtly revealed our sorry fates

A year's worth of distance and trauma.
You are unaware that I have beared
though you bear it too
We began to constantly fight.
So I wrote a poem for you called "Blue"
and it was about that night.

A year's worth of time
to let your anger unwind
yet the finger remains pointed at me

You say it's not my fault
although it may be
But I was too young to discover
*How the loss of love for a daughter
is impossible to recover

deep and wide
this river i must float
(though fording i'd prefer)

swirling eddies
mark its dangerous
course

and how long to reach
the distant bank?

traversing these sharp rocks
and slippery stones,
i must tread carefully.

and having arrived,
will i find
my wagon train's
moved on
and their trail grown cold?

--bruised orange

cross-legged on prickly cord,
picking frayed edges
that don’t quite meet the wall-
stealing pimply-glassed heat and
pretending to live
in a house, where warmth exists
beyond window-spills and
a broken gas oven.

I sought the sunset
The brilliant conclusion
And a star-filled night
I walked the darkness
That edge of madness
I sought the sunset
To be plunged into night
I have walked through it
Moving ever constant
Beating my own path
Towards a new life
A new horizon
I walked through the night
And out the other side
Because I seek the sunrise

Herein lies a plan for a quiet life,
Of restrained passion and stolen smiles,
Drenched in moments of still solitude;
Plentiful contemplation,
Abject contentedness.
I do not promise happiness, nor
Do I profess that such a thing can be granted
With nary a twitch towards
Narcotic impulse or deluded blessing.
I do, however, guarantee a life
Well lived, and a handful of
Fragile years on this bitter, dusty Earth
Resplendent, shining,
If you allow the light of the world
Into yourself and become free,
To be who you truly are.

Welcome to my world, dear friend.
This, now, is ours to share,
To wander through and discover anew,
As a delightfully enlightened pair.

Come sit at Reflection Creek with me,
And gaze into Our eyes.
Learn the water's shimmering secrets,
That unravel so many lies.

We'll dance about this realm, so new,
To feed our hungry hearts,
And have communion with our fathers,
Who live among the stars.

Are you ready to embrace the quaking Earth,
That trembles with a thousand stories,
And dive into a looming sky,
That will cleanse us of our worries?

This is a world within a world,
So bereft of any meaning.
But, this world with which we've become apart,
Is slowly intervening.

Open your eyes, and free yourself,
To achieve great understanding,
To know yourself and know the world,
And nurture your heart's expanding.

Stretch out your arms and greet the world
That will soon become your home.
There's so much here to feed your soul,
And it's free for us to roam.

This pearl. Ah, this beautiful, precious pearl.
Creamy, buttery; rich and velvety.
A teardrop. Wrought beneath the churning swirl
Of a deep and unfathomable sea.
A tear shed for unobserved injury
Penetrating calcareous armour;
Weeping silently; seeking serenity
And embracing quietude with ardour.
The injured life gives way to a treasure
Near unimaginable.  Beguiling.
A jewel in life beyond true measure.
Natural and pure. A gift of being.  
      The world is our oyster. Imperfect. Whole.
      The pearl - a lithe and unencumbered soul.