An ink and a blot
A paper and its creases
A bored poet at loss
The lone shadow of the candle flame,
Hides the rest of the world from light
An alley cat's stealth walk
Creeps past the window of the poet
He stretches, cranes his neck
There, a maiden trod in the night
Under the canopy shadows of still trees
The wind was queer tonight
The moon seemed bashful too
He reaches out to call
But she turns to look at him
And like a dying wisp of a candle,
She's gone.
Dumbstruck, he sits,
He smoothens out the creases
He ignores the blot
He writes a poem
Of the maiden in the shadows.

A day to sit and remember
A warm night i sat in November
Out on the front sit we drove to the beach
Downed bottles to make heavens reach
Almost, i got drowned with alcohol and salt water
The thought of my family, my dear brother,
flashed as i took in a nice amount of water
The Lord's lariat held me through to shore

A day to sit and remember
A warm night i sat in November

Many people see
stars on the night sky.
But I see only a
graveyard whose candles
are still lit on the graves,
even though they are
long exstinguished by the angels

He was the darkest of dark nights.
He was the view through a hospital room's window, right through the long wild waving grass. He was the feeling of freedom I could never reach.
He would appear when I needed it the most, as unexpectedly as the breeze hits a field at summer nights.
He was the sound of the saddest piano notes at the end of a heartbreaking song.
He was always there, he was always watching.
He would look back at me with his green eyes wide open and his mouth shut. He knew all the answers, but he wouldn't say a word. Words were never needed.
Walking heartbroken down the dark streets last night, I looked up from the ground, where the town disappeared, fading into the wild lands, covered by the midnight skies, slightly touched by the moonlight. I felt him.
Looking right into my ripped soul and deepest broken hopes, with the same old expression across his face. He faded in the winter winds.

Years spent in this great citadel
Lessons learnt & time depleted
Out into the real world I go
The Lords grace with me till I'm old
A father who i owe my all,
too soon he lost his only ally
A sister, who took up the mantle
too soon she learnt to be a mother
A brother to soothe & calm the father,
too soon he became a man
Thank You all for the inspiration,
and being my driving force.

whereby I lost my ears
misplaced my senses
somewhere nearly now
close, close as my nose

among the rafters
holding the ceiling up
somewheres
above the plaster

entwined in webs,
in the boxes saved
from centuries paths
right, right there

I can find them
given time
given centuries
given a direction
given a day or three