She was a daughter of the Caribbean, a newborn star; she was the image of paradise before the fall. We met in the hallowed season, death haunted our days.  Her mind vexed by the turmoil; her spirit reaching for closure within the downpour of tears.  She touched me in ways unimaginable; this beautiful soul wishing I could see past her youth.  A grown woman wanting to spend her days with an old man.  I will never know what she saw in me; all I can remember is the joy of her hello and the absence of her goodbye.

The morning smells like rain…again.
There are some things that remain in question,
mostly bitter-sweet sentiments
masked as joy and happiness;
it is funny how the straight and narrow
road is really a circle,
the perceptions of progress are illusions
because the accompanying footprints are different.
Here I am taking steps back only to reach
the same plateau because hope kissed me
sensually on the lips;
different is not always better
just as love is not eternal

Raindrops…
The moisture on the window;
the weekend huddled beneath the blankets,
the only thing separating what is real
and what is perceived.
The constant tapping against
the glass is a beautiful symphony within the psychology.
I followed my heart towards the pit,
staring into the opening and catching the glitter
from a fading light.

Sunlight breaks through these gray clouds…
The less we speak, the more we learn;
there is an unsettled situation
within the correlation.
Something is amiss,
I cannot put a finger on this
point of quiet contention.
To remain in this abandoned shelter,
this place of insanity,
is the only hope of weathering
these frigid temperatures.
My lips are numb and my heart is cold;
I can see the sun and that’s all that matters.

Another night spent tossing-and-turning; hot and cold sensations keeping pace with the quiet commotion. Not sure what I am wrestling with; my mood is fine but there is a feeling of twisted darkness within.  I am aware of the turmoil this season brings; seeing the pieces of animosity gathering as a pile of dust around me. I promised to end the plight of expectations, this lie brought contentment and unconscious abrasion; the attempt to write my way into the light seems futile.

Gray skies poised for rain yet, not a drop falls.

My thoughts, planted
within our future;
this vision of fulfillment
taking away the pain of absence.

Your silhouette wrapped
in the sheets of a warm goodnight;
the hope of tomorrow resting
upon my chest.

My imaginations
once sustained me;
paling in comparison
to your soul next to mine.

As you sleep,
I am listening to the desires
within your dreams.

The breaths of your emotions,
in harmony, with the early
morning rain.

My heart beats with joy;
this great delight when
you will say to me,
"Good morning."

I walked through the empty lot
noticing the depression of time;
street lamps flickering within the subtle
breeze of the late evening.

My hands were numb from the cold and ash;
these pockets lost their warmth.
The sky forgot to welcome
the moon; it’s light lost behind
the cloudy indigo.

Something touched my face, the moist
drops of condensation; nighttime mist
upon this abrasive skin. The feeling
brought my lips towards a smile, because
someone new was at the horizon.

Faint words of familiar sentiments falling
upon my heart and mind; the language
conjured spirits from my past.

I looked for the bottle
but all I could find was regret.

So much confusion within the chaos;
my flesh burns from the sting of scorpions,
they cannot understand what I've been through
nor will they understand what I am
putting them through.

It's beginning to feel like winter.

Voices echo from the halls
of distant memories;
the sky darkened by
the migration of shadows.

Love was found at
the height of appeal;
that moment of joy
arrived quickly
and deteriorated rapidly.

Life consumed the space
reserved for happiness;
the absence of trust
broke our hearts and
shattered our perceptions.

We know the question
and fear the answer;
wondering if we will see
another sunrise.

He sits there
Hoping she will
Say something

She says nothing
Hoping he will
Say something

He sits there
Quietly observing
The way she pretenses
Her thoughts
Erratically

She says nothing
Listening to his silence
Create a vocabulary of
Unspoken words

His sits there
Silently watching
The way she changes
Her moods
Sporadically

She says nothing
About the text message
She received with
His words of affection

*Meant for someone else

A beautiful box
Placed on her pillow
Engraved with
His constant promises;
Coated with
His golden rules.

A small latch
Keeps something inside.

Her finger’s loving touch
Breach an opening;
Scent of escape flees.

Gold falls as dust
Engravings fade as vapor;
A beating heart
Revealed inside nestled
Within his written note
That reads:

*“I’m sorry.”

A simple invitation,
written in prose,
fearful that the quiet voice
would disrupt the words;
the ambient light of candles
elevated their courting desires.

They tasted decadence
upon the plates,
flavors of the unexpected
were thoughtful and deliberate;
the night’s delights dripped with joy
despite the absence of the moon.

The candor of sweet desserts,
slices of memorable moments;
the pieces of lingering satisfaction
on their lips.

She felt the poet’s heart
and wanted to touch his soul.

The chill of a foreboding moment,
He feels the night
Casting shades of fear
Within a tearful mind.
Cadence of history
Bringing an end
To his serenity;
A quiet calamity chained
Within his heart.
His spirit despising
The chime of midnight.

Wishing, for one night,
The motion of time
Would simply hold still.

Quiet nights spent lying on a bed of nails,
feeling the ****** of tearful dreams.  
My conscious mind whispering judgment,
telling me that it can never be;
a broken heart, denying its true feelings
for the sake of expectation.

A lie meant to build barriers,
to prevent me from seeing the beauty
of the possibility.  
These quaking hands touching the pieces of hope,
tiny wisps escaping within the evening winds.
My intrepid spirit refuses to accept fate,
no longer believing in destiny.

Tonight, I will test the unseen;
to evoke the musings of the universe.
At this moment,
I am surrendering the impossibilities
and believing one day, you will be mine.

Come inside
So that we may share
This moment

We can speak
About the superficial
To test the unwritten premise

We can explore
The deeper levels
Within our evening contemplation

We can say nothing
Letting our spirits interject
Beneath the sheets

Refusing to sleep
So we may remember
In the morning

Morning light obscured by the frosted memories;
time carries no sympathy for the remorse of
seconds traveling within my shivering hands.

I dream of sleep.

Attempting to free my mind of thoughts
by staring at the sunless horizon. Taunted
by cliches; these menageries clouding
the moment.

I long for sustenance.

The refrigerator is full of food
yet, I am starving to death. Night
comes quickly, my body huddled in
fear of being alone.

I laugh.

This season will inevitably change
so I wait, patiently, for the next.

I remember the first time
*** sold broken promises,
signed with dreams and
sealed with kisses.

Feeling special
was all we wanted;
removing loneliness
from the room. The first time
we consummated our affection
in that single dorm room.

I said "I love you,"
She reciprocated by
sleeping with someone else.
Happiness conceived
in my bed of imaginations
disappeared
like shadows in the dark

Gentle breeze becoming
A violent storm;
Listening to the whispers
Within the rain.
Setting myself adrift
On, the crashing waves;
Allowing the currents
To take me…wherever.

Sleep was nothing but a myth;
nightmares ruled the day.

Vocabulary limited to an apology,
strength dwindled beneath
the weight of pity.

It was a slow progression
on broken glass
towards the darkened room;
insidious laughter cackling
from within the demise.

The smell of ******* and bureaucracy
induced violent convulsions;
the mental walls came tumbling down.

Spending time chasing dreams in the dark;
whispering to one another about the things
we call “happiness”.

Checking our pockets for change
to buy hope and keep
our bellies full of joy;
injecting our minds with allusions
to dispel the horrors of our nightmares.

This is our drug
to cope with the fear of
loneliness in the night;
following the tracks to avoid
the slums that we must pass through.

“Love” was never a friend
just the trickster who stole
our moral decency;
the dealer of truth and lies.

Cold winds killing the breath of life;
Lands saturated with the bones of the dead.
Pondering the meaning of so much destruction;
Touching the spirits of mindful watchers
Gazing at the signs.

Thieves waiting for the house to empty.

Words buried beneath poignant sensations
Hidden from the living;
Wishing to resurrect sentiments to share
With the deceased.

Death promised the caterpillar its wings.

Sleep stolen in the midst of regrets;
Situations ferried by the unexplained
Within the fog of nightmares.

Remembering her spirit
Leaving without saying “goodbye”.

I created this place upon the black sand
To feel the contrast against the blue sky.

Windows nothing but hollow places
Displaying the light as it
Passes by.

I listen to the them
Proclaiming the end because
It never comes.

The walls of burning flesh cooled
By her shadow. Revealing
The ink-stained words of my life.

I waited for the rain because
It always does.

In the midst of a feeding frenzy
the hungry masses consuming
pieces of my flesh and bones.

It hurts, to see
portions of my essence
ripped away, chewed and spit out;
my blood dripping from their mouths.

They are killing me
but I refuse to die.

The first
shall be last;
early birds
choking on worms.

Our fallacy made
from lies; our
commitments made
from acrimony.

In darkness, we
hunt for something
palatable; collecting
the wages of sin.

I dream of sleep
with eyes wide open;
it’s always dark
in the morning.

Touching disparity
beneath reckless thoughts;
lines and dots
unconnected.

Everything
looks and tastes identical;
I am starving to death.

Breathless words
Eulogized upon a
Stone.

Flashes of light
Illuminating shadows
Undisturbed.

Emotions lost
Within the unrelenting
Downpour.

Her restless spirit,
Laying next to his
Broken body,

Feeling the cold
Sleep of a heartless
Dreamer.

She returns,
Above the hollows,
Believing change
Is something
And nothing.

She weeps,
Beneath the firmament,
Believing hope
Is meaningful
And meaningless.

Her tears
A thousand
Snowflakes.

Thoughtless winds
Fragmented
A butterfly’s wings.

Tonight

Seductive lips speaking
Sensual truth
Tongues mingle
Tasting savory forgiveness

Silhouettes exposed
Grudges disrobed
Falling around the ankles

Nerves captivated along the spine
By the touch of compassion
Beads of perspiration
Dripping adulation

Closely guarded secrets
Shattered
Bodies covered
From the dust of tumbling tension
Souls shaken
From the weight of conversation

Intimacy reveals
Unexplored regions
Between mind and soul

Tonight nothing remains
Except indulgence
Believing the sun
Will never rise

She shares a promise
That her life
Will be different

Nobody believes
Her words

She is humiliated
By their laughter
And ridicule

Despair produces
Her tears

She waits for
The storm despite
Their flawed wisdom

Faith releases
Her mind

She sees the signs
As the summer heat
Touches the overcast sky

Anticipation cloaks
Her spirit

She feels the change
As the summer wind
Moves the sedentary landscape

Exuberance permeates
Her soul

She listens as the
Sound of thunder
Echoes her name

Love overcomes
Her pain

She smiles as her
Heart receives the
Warmth of falling rain

Salt air
Clearing away obscurity
Revealing a lost love
Waiting on jagged stones
Dulled by her patience

Her endless adoration
Flowing like ocean waves
Crashing against my soul
Wanting winds draw me towards her
Closing the gap created by time

Fresh sand
Beneath our feet
Erase our broken footprints
From long ago

Our spirits intertwine
Within a forgotten embrace
Drawing the heavens
Into sunset

Nocturnal twists;
stifled breathing.
Demons drowning
in fountain ink.

Lately,
I wonder if
she has grown
weary of me; maybe
occupying her time
with second thoughts.

Our moments
seem lost within
distractions, we seem
content with the trail of
unbroken silence.

Sometimes,
I wonder if
she wants someone else;
maybe my instincts are clouded
by my insecurities.

It feels like
the anticipation
has worn off; as though
the sound of my name
no longer matters.

If only I could stare
into her gorgeous
green eyes
and bare my soul.

An open window reveals
a chilling breeze; yep,
it's cold outside.

The air chaps
lips and hands;
rough to touch.

The familiar
smell of precipitation
precedes a tear drop.

The downpour smears
a salty message;
notions of ill intent
dripping from the paper

a pound of peanut butter
layered on a wheat thin

something to pass the time
cause the internet is down

another pound of peanut butter
tastes better right off the spoon

A young woman spent
Many years behind a window
Guarding her fragility

Until one day

The glass breaks from
A single tear drop
Exposing her loneliness

As each day

Different faces pass by
The broken window stopping to
Gaze at the young woman’s appearance
Before continuing on their way

Some stay a moment just to
Say “hello” neither waiting
For her reply nor allowing
A chance for conversation

Yet everyday

She looks out towards
The world trapped behind the
Broken shards hoping that
Someone will stay awhile and
Become her friend

A new equinox rests upon the horizon;
it seemed like it would never arrive.

The touch of a cool breeze
upon the nape of my neck.
Sending a chill along my spine;
goose bumps of impending excitement.

I find myself thinking about her
beautiful autumn eyes; wanting to taste
the pumpkin spice on her lips.

The smell of rain,
that subtle hint hovering
within a single cloud;
my tainted memories washed away.

Midnight cravings for coffee
stimulating sedated thoughts;
emotions deposited in the ink
of a pen.

Tick marks dotted on crinkled
paper; moments recounted, too
many to comprehend. ****** abstracts
and crooked lines.

I lived a sheltered life,
Three square meals a day;
Believing the devil waited for me
Under my bed.

Consanguinity within the dramatic pool;
the kiss of a mermaid left the taste
of sour grapes.

I thought I knew love,
realizing that the feeling
was but an echo of the loneliness
I did not recognize.

Emptiness led my heart to vows;
a vow of silence was appropriate.
Experience leads me to confusion;
I am left choking on complexity.

The sunrise looks like the sunset;
all I see is indigo, a weird shade
for sleepy eyes.

Days into decades;
emotions slipping among
jagged stones.

A hand-written
letter burning within
frustration.

The screams of
déjà vu echoing
in these lonely halls.

Once upon time,
there existed clarity.

There was no darkness and
there was no light.

Gods and mortals
gave birth to one another.

Death fed upon their
Truths and lies.

Promise me
Forever;
Lie with intent
To love eternity.

Feign the strength of
A god,
Hold the weakness of
A mortal.

Never let “love” slip
From this deep caress;
Not a glance be remiss
From the touch of affection.

Let our souls portray
Light, in the darkness.

On this night
No words, profound
Silence speaks within
Meditation; reflecting on
The memories indescribable.

We talked of travels;
Escaping towards the constellations.
Our plans to rise above the despair,
We both created.
Words touched by Shakespeare
Rested on our lonely souls.
Promises poured casually;
Drinks passing our lips.
Tongues tasting the bitter
And the sweet.

Quiet hour,
laying nestled
beneath imaginations.
Her head resting
upon his memories,
the faint scent of
affection still lingers.
Recalling each frame
that formed their moments,
feeling the sensations
that guided their journey;
touching the pages of adoration
that once told, their story.

Before the day began,
I waited in the shelter
Away from the wandering souls.
My eyes transfixed upon the rays of dust
Penetrating the walls; in the midst of the shadows.
Those misty pieces of memories, scattered upon
The ground, an ode to a fading season;
My heart rejoiced.

The days carry the essence of grand fatigue;
I once knew a good judge of character,
whom the recipients of righteousness
called a friend.  

He collapsed within the fog,
leaving a rare delicacy for me to consume.  
I savored the taste of blatant bitterness,
refusing to regurgitate the morsels
I quickly digested.  

Now I've got this nagging cough
and wheezing in my chest.
The plight of mad science
to taint my good blood cells
with the disease of contaminated cytoplasm.

I am becoming numb
to its brutal effects
and I am frightened.

I love this moment,
sitting deeply obscure
While the obtuse populace
plan their fate.

I get to think of her.

Thinking about her toes,
hidden within those little socks.

Dreaming about a rendezvous
to someplace warm; stripping down to our
bare essentials.  

Naked along the trinity, pure forms
pressed against each other; feeling
the skin of consciousness shedding
to reveal our smiles.

Haunted memories against
this restlessness; my eyes
searching for signs of
certainty.

Frightened by
the careless natures;
feeling my hope
constricted by the angst
of dilemmas.

Thoughts tilting away
from the season; my pulse
quickening within
the lapse of time.

Darkness mocks my search
for the light; enchanted
dreams lost within
this ambiguity.

Sometimes I sit and stare; delving deeply towards the point of destined fixation.  I stop at the edge, waiting for the moment to hollow out; imagining the embrace of silence.  

Sometimes I feel the pull of refuge, leading me by the hand to the subterranean level.  A finger, placed upon my lips, to prevent the waves of random thoughts from contaminating the cure; breathing…the pressures slowly release beneath the fathoms.

They met out of mutual appreciation
towards their artistic expressions,
becoming slaves of free will;
incarcerated within their choices.

She wanted to be with him
to follow his footprints, no matter, wherever;
even if the journey led to Hell.

His fingerprints smudged deeply upon, her soul.

She said three words that left him devastated;
Her lips now covered with silence. Sitting in limbo
trying to make sense of it all.

A moonless night conceals the reasons.

She still writes about those moments;
delving into those times to reveal whatever
she missed about herself.

Changes flowing between life and death;
acuity erased by emotions. The long walk
along the path of understanding.

The images within her mind portray a song,
fading like forgotten lyrics.

She lingers upon the corner of exposed
intimacy; pricking her finger on the
point of fallacy.

Small drops of crimson nepotism
releasing clarity. The lessons
smeared within the inked blots
interpreted inconsistently.

She forgot the meaning of her poetry;
her passions defiled within the filthy
knowledge. Crying for days, it was all
she could do to remember.

He took his finger to write
A poem on the dusty window glass
His thoughts lost within the afternoon
Sunlight; mesmerized by the kaleidoscope
Playing with his childish inhibitions.