Babydoll you make
stars fall,
valves and engines stall,
your eyes are living oceans of stars,
your smile is the metronome of my
flight,
and try as I may,
try as I might,

I don’t think I’ll ever
get the words right,
to tell you what I feel tonight,
but I hope you feel it
when I kiss you,
I hope know it in my affection,
the way I’ll always protect and miss you,
even when the clocks
hands have stopped moving,
with my poetry and dying words,
there will be a part of me left,
still proving,

to the world,
that you, and only you,
could ever
be my mine.

© dm 2015

I know you're struggling.
And that it hurts so much,
you clutch your heart,
the en-ending, unrelenting,
mire of ache,
and each tiny feather,
pulled free reminds you,
of what it means to break.

But after the storm has finished her sad raging,
the glass is empty and contemplating,
and the pleiades dance is waiting,

Just then, you will see a spark,
tiny, shining, spark,
giving birth to light,
a seed of promise,
buried deep,  
cradled by the night,
and this will be the
healing hope,
that lets you down,
from the hang man's
rope,
that kisses your
tear stained cheeks,
and holds you up for weeks,
reminding you that a
seed must die before it blooms,
and honey it's your turn to bloom.

(c) Dm 2015

As I love you,
you are sunsets over dusty
desert canyons,
As I love you,
you are bird song
sung over harps.

As I love you,
I am fearful,
we will not laugh
as we once did.
I am afraid I ask too
much,
from your broken
heart,
I am mindful of your forgotten,
starlings burried long ago,
sleeping in soil,
and earth,
and root and
stone.

But darling,
they do not sleep alone.

Dm (c) 2015

Significant,
how smiles,
convert to heartbreak,
and somber moments,
feign joy-

When heart?
Will you stop
reminding me,
of hopes
crushed?
closest
moments to flight,
brushed,
aside
for the impact
of ground,
As I spiral down,
wax wings melting now.

When heart?
Will you stop
betraying me,
with a memory,
of a warm hand,
with a memory,
of a stolen kiss,
or a secret smile?

When will you
heal or at
least grow
cold and let me
sleep in dream,
stop beating,
so that I might not
hope.

and yet,
hope and dreams are dangerous things,
they can be your noose- or they can be your wings.

I found that the distance I intend,
and the distance I keep,
are far from the same.

I find the train you follow
and the train you take,
are far from the same
mistake to make.

Quick and quiet goes the
swift sound of swirling gears,
making moments of thought,
distant and near.

It is found that passion and
agony are as close as life and death-

All in the same breath.

(c) Dm 2015

I know I should be sleeping,
but the clock reminds me,
that I still sleep alone.

I should be sleeping,
but the emptiness of this place,
has never let it be a home.

Today I watched a wounded
deer, struggle off the road,
his legs partially broken,
and his head deeply bowed.


And I said a prayer for that
place in which he lives,
because I live there far too often-
granted I've no broken bones,
to speak of,
but some hearts live in coffins.

I know I should be sleeping,
but the clock reminds me,
that I still sleep alone.

Somewhere deep inside
the depths of me,
there must be music,
even though the strings are broken.

All of these dreams,
and all of these ghosts,
I chased are gone.
And all of these hopes,
I held so high,
have simply moved on,
and so have I.
-dm (c) 2015

captured by angels
You

shadowless eyes,
helped me through sorrow,
stolen light from,
diamonds and seas.

YOU

bird-less flight,
embittered but quiet,
helped my heart,
captured unrequited,

you.

Dedicated to
angels,
lingering
on pages of fire,
around your head,
like a crown of
roses,  
my smoldering heart.

dm (c) 2015