I haven't seen her in years.

Maybe she's still there
when the tide rises
foraging in the river
dreaming in half moon
they meet their fate
floating into her net.

With the tide ebbing
maybe she's still hugging the shore
praying for a little more
till the stars blink weary
waiting for her to go home.

Is she still there
her skin smeared with mud
stalking like a night heron
silhouetted against the skylight
her feet kissing the riverbed
her bed lonely and cold.

I wonder why for me
she's so mysterious
a predator in the river
a foresaker of life
for the life of her
brewing a love
deeper than I've ever known.

In my eye's river
she's still there.

Age cannot catch up with her.

Tell me a lie I can believe.

"There is no one like you."

There's a little
boy that hides in
the dark corners of
my soul.
He doesn't want to
be hurt anymore.
I spent eight years
with Beth.
For the most part,
it was hell and
constant pain.
She made nightmares
look good.
I heard the
little boy cry
late into the
silky night,
while snails got
smashed on the streets
of Ventura.

When I drank, which was often,
the little boy seemed
at peace for awhile,
while swans were
murdered in Venice,
and I tasted the ashes
of Neruda.
Years flew by
like seagulls;
up
down
and darting.
The little boy
continued to
hide in the
dark corners of my soul.

He wanted to
come out and be loved.
He was thirsty for it,
but there wasn't
any around.
It was dry, like the
deserts in hell.
It's too late for
sorries here comes
the plow.

He began to see
the pattern of life.
Some monsters walk in the light.
Vulnerability equals pain.
The little boy got mean.
And now he carries
a knife.

The purest love is silent.
It speaks without words.

It prays.


Shell ✨🐚

Smile.
I bet your aching gums would want that.
Flowers.
I bet your girl would adore them.
Breathe,
because I know you are dying to again.

Like the clouds
Running to be with the sun
Little did it know
That the very thing he desire will be his demise

And on his journey to the West,
On the pursuit of the light
So little he know,
That he'll be enveloped by
The eerie darkness of the night
Again

It's hard to turn the page to a new page
When our fav character is not there

Moonlight wipes her gracious hand across my faces
She names me one of her own
And in the darkest secret places
I let myselves be known

A girl’s eyes once bright with passion now stare  weakly dull and empty.
She lies on the bed trembling fingers twisting the sheets. She pleads. She screams. The walls do not listen. The air does not carry her cries.
The earth shifts graves loosen their grip ready to swallow the unwanted.
I tear her apart. Every breath I draw is stolen from her lungs.
I was welcomed into this world when she bid farewell to her world
After all this is the circle of life

He fed her with hands of plague,
and she embraced it with a heart
steeped in grace.
Falling sick, she wept—not from pain,
but in love.

I think too much
it hurts too much
so I clean it all out with soap
but
       the
             soap
                       burns
and the pain hurts so comfortably

she has my voice,
only sweeter;
she has my notions,
only purer;
she has my pride,
only gentler;

she knows i’m hurt,
only better.

she means well;
is it… only a spell?
she breathes a song;
only, i cannot tell —
if she yearns for me,
or only mourns for me.

to me, it don't seem;
but i know —
she's only a dream.

Painting of Oblivion

The canvas is uniformly white.  
As a screen depicts nothingness
And there is immobility.
A red dot appears
When a mass of void moves
Into life in the form of a life
A beast or a man?
The mystery is no one knows.
Why this randomness occurs

Another lovely morning.... I wake up drenched in sweat.
What is it that grips me? Squeezing me in my sleep?
Returned to the mercy; of some external force.
Each night takes me places, my body proves remorse.

Dear you,
Be calm in every situation
As the rain stops
You've to water them
Again- by yourselves.

Decided to become that version—
Heartless. Ruthless.
No place for love.

No emotions dictating,
Only silence, always calculating.
No chances taken,
Nothing to hurt, no pain to endure.

But then it dawned—
Even this was emotion dictating.
Just a bargain with time,
To postpone the pain.

No one is invulnerable.
No one is unstoppable.
No one can escape,
When love decides to pay a visit.

No one can escape
The joy that it brings,
And the dreaded pain that follows

the song of birds measures the air
the buds of the future are fragile
what a fate - not a rhyme:
the eyelids are filled with light

There is something
in the early morning air
that fills my lungs with
a familiar loneliness
as the dull pain
behind my eyes
makes the stars
look like tiny tears
as the moon shakes
the nightmares from
its restless mind
I close the book
on yesterday
I wrestle with
this pen and paper
as the background
radio preachers
love and forgiveness
there is a moment
when the eyes close
and the mind opens up
there is a moment when
I see her smile I almost  
feel her embrace
within a second
she is gone …
Clay.M

red or white of any color, the moon is still the moon
Regardless of its phase, crescent, half, full or new— it was beyond perfect, still
But beyond perfection, its beauty is breathtaking.

Come, sit
At my right hand

The place of honour

As my write hand

Marks this page

For you

You rise high, my Queen
To kiss the day
Wearing a rosy blush today

The night was long
Now the King has gone
Away, away

Light my day with your beauty

Did I step on a butterfly once in my youth
That I must live in such pain today

Did I not reach out to someone in need
That my days are now crowded with hurting.

Did I never walk for that extra mile
That each step today is a torment.

Did I not study the course close enough
That agony is what I have to learn.

Have I earned a lifetime of level-nine days
When to be only aching becomes a reward.
                 ljm

touch me and i'll bleed your love is poison to me and so i'm poison to everything the cancer within every single foundation to ever embrace this hardened skin that when i feel an itch i dig my nails so deep down to the inch and leave this ****** mess just so i can feel it the nagging itch of your caress my aching need to feel to reciprocate it
tearing into my own flesh every time we lay in bed the only way i'm allowed to love
is through the wound i carved through my own skin ineed to leave to hide to run to flee to heal the pain is here i can't escape i can't replace i can't release i can'tbelievei can'tbeginagain

lonely island of the atlantic
your glistening waves carry bottled words
left by old romantics,
traveling earth
yes the lonely island of the romantics

on your sandy dunes and
bright lit moon’s shine
i need you so bad
would you let me in
a new resident,
a lady gone mad

lonely island of the atlantic
your glistening waves carry bottled words
left by old romantics
traveling earth
yes the lonely island of the romantics

your palmy trees greet me
by your imperfect breeze
oh please let me in, let me in
i’m begging on my knees!

lonely island of the atlantic
glistening waves carry my bottled words
left by me, your romantic,
traveling your earth
yes the lonely island of the atlantic

lonely island of the dramatic
lonely island of the romantics
these are my bottled words

Time can tell this simple tale
Any minute every day
Many faces going pale
Telling us what words can't say

Once a need
Now's a fear
A lullaby's what you hear

An angelic voice from the distance
Is it ending or is it still distant...

He's cursed to walk this terrible Earth,
Ever since he let loose of Sin's birth
He's been hanged and beheaded,
but his parts crawl back be-wedded

Immortality until the sun splutters
and leaves Earth roasted on a platter
Finally his grievances will be forgiven
or at least that's what he's wishing.

He's been scarred and witnessed the worse
of humanity's blood splashing the dirt
He prefers the quiet solitary darkness,
of his room free of more curses & blesses.

Happy with his bottle of Tequilla
and his sweet girl's that Latina
An expert of knives & firearms
Cross him & he'll do serious harm.

The earth
too busy
never turns us gently—
its roots,
once slender,
now twist
like gritted teeth,
pulling tight
where we once were free.

We leave
an imprint
of our hands
in the soil,
searching for softness,
but only to find
something turned—
bitter, deeper.

So you are blind?
you must - I ll be mad unless
you indeed do not need to see or hear

STOP !

No , your actions are not love
No, No, not your words either
No, not what your think, what you belive
Yeah, that tiny bit of your charm
the part you even yourself doesn't know