Mama said
"The sky is bright but the clouds are dark."
Papa said
"Your face is bright but your eyes are dark."
Sister said
"The world is bright but the people are dark."
Brother said
"You are bright but yet all you see is the dark."
I am the light, I am the dark.
We blend together, marbled in epiphanies of color and emptiness.
The strings that play the music also hold my wrists and ankles and make me dance to a tune I can't sing along to.
Untie me and see that when free, I fall.
So don't let me go but always hold me back.
I showed them more of me.
Mama said
"You're different."
Papa said
"When did this happen?"
Sister said
"Why did you let it consume you?"
Brother said
"You're completely gone."
Believe me, I've lost my bearings.
Help me, I'm so gone.
Save me, I want to come home.
I've missed everything, I miss it all.
I know I've left your side and I can't find my way back.
Don't leave me where I am even when I beg and plead.
I showed them all.
Mama said
"Where did you go?"
Papa said
"Come back."
Sister said
"We miss you."
Brother said
"You don't have to be alone.
But I already am.
I am so alone.
In the largest gatherings of the ones I love, I'm the most alone that I could be.
The surface of the water is bright but what swims underneath is so dark.

Sorrow is a lonesome river,
she feeds a deep blue sea.
She'll take all the tears you give her;
open the gates and set her free.

When it rains in Georgia,
it's flooding sacred ground.
From Augusta to Savannah,
that's holy water coming down.

Lift your chin up off your chest,
raise your eyes up to the sky.
The flood has reached its crest,
let the warm sun sanctify.

Sorrow is a lonesome river,
she feeds a deep blue sea.
She'll take all the tears you give her;
open the gates and set her free.

r ~ 5/16/14

Whenever I go to the roof to spend some time my own
find the chunk of the past I left memories rusty grown
see there shadows of father hear his walking feet
if I strain my senses hard even hear his heart beat!

I hear there the lost footsteps in the wind faintly sighs
in the dark nooks imprints of years that quickly passed by
find there the ghost of dreams she and I had spun
their ashes now scattered from our memories long gone!

I see there the old me in the corner standing aloof
unaged ungrown my fossil on the roof
by the light of the fireflies he still searches me
rewrites in the moonglow long discarded poetry!

On the roof times are not dead they merely abscond
hide under the hyacinth of the night's silent pond
I find them lurking there sounds and sights of yore
for times once lived never go from us anymore!

Doll’s boy ’s asleep
under a stile
he sees eight and twenty
ladies in a line

the first lady
says to nine ladies
his lips drink water
but his heart drinks wine

the tenth lady
says to nine ladies
they must chain his foot
for his wrist ’s too fine

the nineteenth
says to nine ladies
you take his mouth
for his eyes are mine.

Doll’s boy ’s asleep
under the stile
for every mile the feet go
the heart goes nine

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

PENCILS
telling where the wind comes from
  open a story.
  
  Pencils
telling where the wind goes
  end a story.
  
These eager pencils
come to a stop
.. only .. when the stars high over
come to a stop.
  
Out of cabalistic to-morrows
come cryptic babies calling life
a strong and a lovely thing.
I have seen neither these
nor the stars high over
come to a stop.
Neither these nor the sea horses
running with the clocks of the moon.
Nor even a shooting star
snatching a pencil of fire
writing a curve of gold and white.
Like you .. I counted the shooting stars of a winter
night and my head was dizzy with all
of them calling one by one:
  
        Look for us again.

Like the sandgrains on the stretched palm
with the wind have flown the years
the tides rolled back the sea is now calm
It's biding time on this heavenly sphere!

Yet I've started loving this life more
more than all that spent up before
with a growing desire to have it fullest
sowing hope's seeds to reap its harvest!

Inevitable frailness though makes it hard
more than the yore I dream step forward
still seek the way to get through the dark
explore the mist on unknown embark!

I stretch my hands for the farthest shore
roam mind's cavern for still unlocked door
churn up the residues of time on this side
ride on the comeback of sea's one last tide!