Emptiness is an embrace
at it's best in absolute zero
no emotion
no existence
no warmth
and no life

it is alone
a giant being filling every space
in and out of known existence
with cold calculating precision
no passion

Yet it can lose so easily to everything
because it can only be compared to nothing

immeasurable
even in the way of our universe
emptiness carries itself beyond

Neither organic or synthetic
it is ethereal
larger than anything

stars and the nebulae they live in
if stars are alive
then maybe they feel it too

a screaming silence with a whispered touch
embracing the warmth and light
because it knows endless darkness
it has no day and cannot call it a night

Knights of the Nebulae
sustain and destroy life
for when they die  
they push everything away
only to be born again

such beauty  
to be a monster and a guardian

so small and precious  to emptiness  
if it could feel
it would be eternity

With the first Roar
Galaxies fell out of your
Void. Here we scream
to throw out all that
checks and chokes us.
In a Roar you created
the limitless Creation of yours
In a Roar, we wish to destroy
the listless creation of ours.

Hoping our roars will resonate
with your mighty Roar of Creation.

Tear we did the chords of Sound
Open we did the doors of the Profound.

May every wimpy sound we
make be in tune with your Roar.

Restless
Ever since You infused into my Being

My eyes have not known rest

Eyes open I see only you in all

Eyes closed I neither know

thought nor contemplation or Dream

Just your wild Dance unnuanced

Or the death defying stillness

My eyes know no rest nor respite

With the all seeing One infused in Me.



This blessed restlessness

This relentless assault upon My Being

Please do not stop, Do not stop.

"I love you"
" A constant commitment 
                   or 
       an instant obligation?"

“Hello”

The sudden garland of a voice
like mild rain on a searing day;
refreshing invigorating.

It is a calm mercurial accent
Bolivia or Macedonia?

But there were so many
and “how they do vary.”
Distinct and irregular voices.

I took their lips for my mask
And played their words
like new dances for my breath.
Their garlands rooted in my throat
spoke a whispering cadence of euphoria

So when I speak
the graffiti of their lives
is scrawled across my tongue.
In all the rounding sound of my scattered vocabulary
each and every relationship utters it words

From the cradling of my mother
to the last beady threads of goodbye
not one word belongs to me.
I speak with the tongues of men
And of angels

Sometimes,
it will be like this
a stranger’s eyes
will meet your gaze
and your world tips sideways
as you lurch
in the dark galaxy of their stare
and in that tumbling dive
the unwinding of every sacred vow
and every promised virtue
as you give yourself willingly
to the brooding ocean of their eyes.

Whether there will be ecstasies
is of no consequence.
The undoing is its own reward.
You long for the licking leaves
of flame about your feet
and bless the unknown fire
for consuming all the ****** dullness
of your prosaic life.

No I will not fall in love with you
I will not wake in nights and days thrumming the elastic pulse of your flesh
I will not make crusades to cry in the crux and crucible of your moist longing
I will not stammer at your bedside begging or taking
I will not break your heart
I will not make small prayers in rosary threads of vigil
I will not embarrass your family with the noises of my body
I will not bend, fold, mutilate or spindle the punch card of your soul
I will not lust crushed and broken on the stone beneath your window
I will not hide in shadows to see other men tapping to your doorway
I will not utter cries in ecstasy, fear or isolation
I will not stumble in your dark kitchen
I will not bribe your friends for secret knowledge
I will not watch you sleeping
I will not pander to your whimpering sighs
I will not be cast a drift in your aching moans to find the height and apex of that perfect storm
I will not give you gullible lies or fractured truths
I will not fall floating in the chasm of your eyes
I will not bring you tea

I will regret these things
Regret them forever.

A cove, one’s own
For hearts, a home
where sky and sea and
cliff sides crawling with posies
meet in places
built from traces
of reassembled memories.
all is quiet, all is tender,
purling waters to remember
sips to come, from cups, were poured
by ocean waves en echelon
by providence and then beyond
by each embrace of pristine shore.
reminding us,
o’ forgotten trust
in things from hinterlands
curves of thought imbued with love
raked into hidden sands
washed away, washed away
by the Beloveds hands.

Memories fade to susurrus.
Dusk cast shadows rise the temple wall.
Amber skin, maternal fields,
Upon soft abdomen, his ear falls.

Below the peel of empyrean,
fruit of a woman,
brave the man who clings the rind,
But braver he let’s go in time.

Saccharine, she whose taste is closest
to touch the Beloved’s face.
Pressed he hears her oceans howl…
hurling hope upon the waves.

To love a woman thus
is to be born to her
and then to die,
over and then again over.

Upon his brow, lips land
Her Autumn eyelids close,
falling, falling in the garden.
go the petals of the rose.

Some friends are like the leaves in fall.
From the verdant spring they unfurl
in their splendor and vibrancy.
In soft whisper and summer hiss,
they stage the hues of blossoms and ballads
and whistle birdsongs from hidden branches.

Elevating from their ecstatic state of equinox,
these satellites drift into the so-long’s of solstice,
and from hue to hubris, calling come hither,
lofty leaves dance and whirl and vault
in the Autumn air for new friends of fair,
who too will turn like bookish pages into pulp.

Fly from twig in twilight, oh friends,
fade to saffron, russet and rust
carmine to cobalt into forgotten pyres of time
Fall friends, fall into the dirt and dust,
For in the spring you shall route the roots
from which fresh leaves feed, unfold, and revel sublime.

We* often *Owned, what We don’t Own.
Being  Possessive, We become Invasive.

                 - We often Neutralize, what We can’t Realize.
                     - Full Realization comes after the Actual Destruction.
Creating our own Ending.



*© Pax

So much more than letters
Or sentences that rhyme
Much more than
just some written thoughts
That pass away the time

It's as powerful as the ocean
Reaching depths of the deepest sea
Poetry takes us on a journey
Filled with wonder ~ mystery

It's inspiring like an orchestra
Moving the soul to unmeasurable heights
Bringing ~comfort~ reassurance
To all who read it
day or night

It's the overflow
The fountain
Sustaining all
Of those who write

Poetry is the silenced voice

Though  Speaks

Expressed with all it's might ........

anticipation mounts
as time lapses,
real time movement
quick, power, force
dark.
inertia spread for hundreds of miles
announcing its arrival.
its call. its loud. I feel it.

he’s beautiful.
I remember always
to look for
his speck of bright orange.
he knew a day or so
ahead of time.
since youth I heed the warning signs
signaling darkness.

my connections are sharpening.
this time I didn't need
his.
I watched the dark roll in

the darkness of creation,
of cells multiplying.
the darkness of your blood
rushing at the feel of
the storm coming in.

the task of light is commendable…

the geometric puzzle
can have no missing pieces.
the destructive force of
the storm
is necessary for new life.

if darkness is truly desired
one must dig ever so deep
beyond the identity
and the memories,
the causalities even
the perceived authorities.
to the spark that
still isn’t you.
analyze that space
darkness will truly come true.

fear not.
this darkness is you.
you percolate into
the presence as the light.