When I am old
and still alive
like embers in the ashes I
will burn the hands
of all who try
to tidy up too soon...

Before my brother died
I trusted man and medicine,
science and doctors,
maybe even God.
But now that he's gone,
I can't even trust myself
to write words that mean
a thing at the end of the day.

Moonbeams tread softly

on shining wire   

death waits

haunting shadow

hoping for cloud

and an unfortunate sole

to step forward..

the censorship meme
alive inside me as a child:
some books were worth the mention of--
war and **** were not.

untimely at a pennsylvanian writers' club
where fear lodged quiet smile-halves
in talking clouds and farmyard metaphor,
to weekly bray the corner of an antique movie-house

newcomers weren't to share their work
we three were welcomed as an audience at best
we passed the others' writers' chapter-copies on
on which i scribbled notes of praise
on notes of theme-entwining anti-argument
and **** zests of vast significance:
notes of floral yearning, meadowed love--
iron skies and ahistoric dreams--
off and on archaic themes
of which we weren't to share

This house, it does not speak of me
I am unknown to these adobe walls
these cool clay floors
I press my feet against
wanderlust, I dance
through desert nights I roam
these sands to drink the moon
and follow stars toward home.
I travel endless nights
painted blue with black
wait for sunlight
once again to warm my room.
Nights I dream to be
in wild fields
with you.

My body is fast asleep yet my mind refuses to dim, as I conjure rhyme and riddle , reason , then cloak shared pain at will  !! I roll in the bed ,wake every hour and pray that the dreams will stop ....Up at 5:30 with pen in hand ,to jot down the anguish all over again !

On the day
she turned to dust
she asked the wind
to be her friend
and it picked her up
and ran her
through the fingers
of it's hands
and it poured her
into pockets
and whispered
to hold on
and before the
church had emptied
they were gone..

Don't be my child, don't step on broken glasses
Don't be fooled by all of those sweet promises
I've been through a lot of regrets
Memories that I love to bury and simply forget

Treasure my child, my words of wisdom
I have a lot of story to tell when I enter the kings kingdom
Wounded by those pitiless pawns, knights and bishops
Terrorized by a rook and the queen killed all of my hopes

Listen well, don't act so stupid my innocent child
The world is full of jungle and really so wild
I was bitten by spiders, lions and snakes
To recall what I've been through still make my body shakes

My child, look at all my deep scars
Think thrice always, don't fully rush to reach the stars
Else you'll wished upon it to bring you back to where you start
Because you've led your life to a maze and welcome the dark

My dear sage, all your words are of true wisdom
But let me take my own course of freedom
I may feel the deepest sorrow like hell
But at the end like you I will have a great story to tell




written: October 8, 2014 at 10:45 pm PH time

Mysterious Aries

Go sit up all night
Go sit up on the Arm's Wall

I am going to take it all in
And think about it all

The moon light on the water
Striking me in the eye

Mighty Blue Heron
Under intermittent sky

Ducks knocking back shellfish
Fuelling up for the flight into the fall

Here I sit, quiet, on a stone
So glad to be here on the Arm's wall