when you lean down your eyes toward me
I can hear the whisperings of the universe
and when you swing down your arms toward me
I'm lifted into the wilderness
because your lips are wild
and they ravage
me
you found me fishing for ligaments
or maybe something to join my soul to my body
like another supplement
to feed my psyche

secretly
I'm waiting for day break
and the day you take
me

Twisted tales of how you fought a dragon,
silver scales pulsating through your veins,
the beating heart racing through your mind,
its great wings an ice cold wind through your soul,
from its mouth the fire bellows within your skin,
the great roar screams through your spirit ,
writhing, serpentine body wrapping around your limbs,
run it through with your sword of enlightenment,
the clash of steel against its claws of devourment,
its magical, golden blood,  now your bitter nectar,
the battle won through a mortal embrace,
so raise your lance in triumphant accord,
but keep up your shield and remember the pain,
chasing dragons through the mist and the rain.

There are opportunities a plenty,
as much as the fallen leaves on the ground.
If you breathe deeply and listen,
you can hear God's sound.
I am making it my mission,
to tell you all right now-
Spreading the gospel is more fruitful than fishing,
because even a line cast can be a letdown.
So share the word of Jesus.
Wear it strung round your forehead like a crown.
Write a tweet, send a text, sing a song long and proud.
God gave you everything and then some,
So what will you give right now?

Sometimes we sit in quiet expectation that the other will speak
only to be greeted by the silence of internal solitude
if we may hear the sound of our own breath
then do we know that life is indeed still in abode
does the other understand our internal rhyme
the words that keep the heart in its beat
the soul drags its bow across the taut strings
a sorrowful malady does spring forth from its tune
would that the other hear this internal melody
then hope might indeed cement over these cracks
scripts are always written at the lovers behest
only to be discarded by its woeful actors
scenes played to no rapturous applause
bows taken in haste with exits gratefully received.

As the tears fall,
I feel no comforting hands to hold,
no arms to embrace,
just the sound of the falling rain,  
it's cold, dark, shades of grey,
echoing the radiance of my soul.

It's so easy..
To find
Those beautiful eyes,
To love
That flawless skin,
To hold
That gentle hand,
To look
At her beauty.

It's so easy..
To prepare
Colorful flowers,
To write
Little notes,
To sing
Romantic songs,
To cherish,
Sweet moments.

Like in a room
Full of flowers
Smelling like
Heaven.
You prance around
Admiring the
beauty. The flowers
Are more than
What you can
Ask for.

But that heaven is temporary.

Those flowers will
Wilt.
Those stems
Will crumble
And petals
Will fall.
The leaves
Will be dead
Like there was nothing
At all.

It's so easy..
To find
Another soul,
To love
Another feature.
To hold
A different moment
To look
At the present.

It's so easy..
To prepare
For the future,
To write
To another,
To sing
A different note
To cherish
The present joy.

It's so easy
to fall in-love..
But not so easy
to *stay.

This is the hanging thread
A long string of
Unspoken words
The rope that at one end
Holds down hearts
And at another
Coils around your
Wrist

Perhaps you weren't awake
During the moonlight hours
Looming reflections of today
Glass to my feet

This is the part
Where I write all the emotions down
And outwardly spew blame
Towards the victim of my insecurities
Whom I see as their
Beginning

I
Me
My
We?

I came home today with
A basket of metaphorical flowers
Chrysanthemums and Roses
All the pretty colors of fake
Yet you saw only the thorns
Of our punctured reality

In bleeding hands is the trust
Heart, soul and mind
As well as
Blood-borne illness

All items are
Brittle, apt to break
Yet I bloodied these fingertips
You did not
Toil

You only whisper to me anymore
Still cannot conceal the scent
Of displeasure
Taste
Of bile

Here are the musings
I have failed to intone even softly
Under my breath
For you fail to listen
While you are
*Awake

I was opened the wrong way
forced against the natural motion
once carefully constructed and precision made
now laid down and broken asunder
hanging precariously from the frame
waiting to be fixed and aligned
I have become unhinged
everything bent out of shape
delicately balanced and waiting for the fall
won't someone fix these hinges
***** them back into the wall
won't someone hang me straight and true
all the tools are here, it's not hard to do.