I check on you,
despite being blocked
I wonder what you're up to.
In the end I miss you often,
how could I not?
You were around for so long...
but I'm slowly learning
how to live without you.

I'm the silk on the purity
of you, even though
                         I touch you.

I'm only a layer upon you.

There is a fabric that is woven between
the layers of now and then. Each is a
collection of verses written in the glimpses
& the  unnoticed collection that are both.

Coalescing between the triangle of focus,

"Mind = floating verses not solid.
"Palm = solidifying thought to motion.
"Paper = Forms of others visibly static.

Once the fabric is woven from the layers,
from birth to life to a coffin of white.
Paying respects reading the wording that
are visually passive, cognitive imagery  birthed

Our lips like sunsets
        holding on till that
last moment they set..

Releasing from the emotions,
that kept them aloft in motion
                         but as they part.

They await for when they arise,
         motions shine
                        on emotions.
                      eclipsing on another..

Ive written about my experience
With a daughter i lost in my youth:
Amber waves in the still
Of my soul,
The story in my perception
Truth be spoken,
She wasnt really mine.

And my heart is stilled,
Born into my life
My love could not be seen
As fatherly,
A choice made
And years fade into the torture
That is my mind.

17 years after the four
Of loving her,
The love of my life,
The Ded inside the poet
Reaches into my reality
And once again all is
The chaos.
Ambers wave.....

I raised her for the first four years
Of her life knowing
She wasnt mine.
When my ex and i separated
I lost Amber too:

You reached into a well
Of souls and captured
My whole being,
Ambers waves like a beach
On Sunday morning's
Glory,
Life is in me to hear your voice,
And the truth comes
Like the last gasp.

Amber is my exs daughter,
She cheated on me and we assumed
Amber wasnt mine.
So four years i loved her.
She was born at 6 months old
And weighed only 2.7 pounds.
I reached out four months
Ago for some reason on facebook
After she friended me.
I asked her if she still talked to
The man we though was her dad:

Time is a hammer
Always pounding and memory
Is the tear we dont shed,
It all comes out at once
And the weight of regret
Can be lifted,
The soul cleansed,
The hope invigorating
And life is a dream within
A dream within....

She couldnt tell me anything
So her mother gets on messenger
And tells me she is going to call me.
She tells me Amber is mine.
That I was her father all along.
The stillness in my whole
Life lifted.

And the beauty of life is
That the unexpected
Is always the best anything,
Knowing is like a perpetual
Repetitive insanity,
Regret a broken record player,
Depression a choice within
Not to fight even when
You lose,
Ambers wave came like a
Dream awake.
The reality is,
If this is real, never wake me.......




My heart is open again.
Life is so beautiful.
Amber was born with cerebral
Palsy on the right side of her
Body, shes 21 and she found
She had a great big family
After feeling so alone.
She fights everyday and is in college
So when i met her she amazed
Me with her fight. Never
Giving up i awoke from
My stillness. I have a daughter
21 years old!!!!
My little girls have a big sister.
My still born was a metaphor
For my life being stopped after she wasnt in my life.
See my facebook for
The pictures of my long lost
Daughter. Life is a beautiful
Craziness.

Naked as snow was my birth,
a covering of innocence coating
                                           my eyes.

I was then a sapling, bursting through
and then capturing the nautical days
                                               I was alive.

Like an oak my moments long & fading
as the years fell like autumn leaves.
                     A chill of silence breathed upon me.

Dying for our sins, was the metaphor,
but was it as it seems?
for if he died for those would one stay
dead not rise three days later it seems .

A bad hangover of consciousness.
were sins only forgiven for a weekend
maybe +1. Were we misled that he passed
but was just drinking holy wine in his cave crib.

If one was to be born to die for us, to die for
us, then why was it just a weekend gig?
Your sins aren't forgiven for he lived,
misinterpreted it was just a 3 day weekend.

Our shadows persist
whence we were collages
on times breath.

Elegantly dissipating from
the collection of momentary
fragrances.

Till we are silhouettes of
memories, notes falling
into life shattering within obscurity.

Knee high to a blade of grass,
he in kind verse took this friend
of four hooves for a stroll.

Telling of his Daddy, how he
was saddled with his Father.

Caressing the wind and earth
they were as one on the prairies,
sleeping together hooves held
him steady in moonlight slumber.

Your Father was there for my Daddy,
even when he parted, he slept next to him

He would put his hooves upon the
breast of my fathers grave, I swear
your father cried tears like life.
That's why their next to each other now,
                           riding into the sunset of life.

i liked the way you made me feel
until you didn't make me feel that way anymore
so i let you go
but was that the right thing to do?
i have a void, that i've been trying to fill
ever so carelessly
drugs, ***, rock'n'roll
i've lost control
hell, i don't want to be in control
i want others to control me
i want someone to constantly be there and reassure me
but everyone leaves or i push them away
and i'm left with the biggest hole of agony inside
that can never be filled...
love is conditional.
love is stupid and blind and erratic and irrational.
love cares for no one.
so maybe it's not love i'm looking for?
maybe it's to erase the past
but time is a cruel thief.
time is selfish and careless.
and we waste him so he wastes us.
i am wasted.
no, not drunk.
but rather a ship, wasted at sea.
stuck in the sand of the past.
with this hole of agony... filling up with unwanted things.

Onyx painted upon her figure
as layers were laced with the
                          thorns of its creation.

Crimson fish nets bleed down her
legs, as the splinters from its inception
                           lacerated elegance beneath.

I wore a rose of wine nourishing deep within,
as the stem cleaved deep within myself.
                          We kissed the silhouettes of ruination

I don't know why
every single time
we have a fight
I remember that time,
the time you hurt me the most.