The hands that will touch me now
Will be calloused
But they will not hurt me
Not like your slow hands
That massaged in a poison
Without me ever knowing
No. The hands that will touch me now
Will belong to a monster
Without a disguise.
That's bravery.  That's love.

The smoking vessel,
Could not hide,
Its billowing fumes,
Nor hold inside,
The poisonous air,
Once reason died,
And mingled with,
Extinguished pride.

Neglect in past has offered to pain,
A Subtlety of a kind,
A numbness to even death itself,
That is hard to find.
So your departure was just in time,
To subdue me for one more great.
This pressure is mine and I will bear it,
So goes and so goes Fate.

Soul of mine, please come back to me.
I have missed you all of these years.
I admit it was I who abandoned thee,
Forsaking you because of my fears.

Soul of mine, please forgive me.
I meant to harm you not.
By ignoring you so subtly,
Until you were forgot.

Soul of mine, I have missed you.
Nothing else can fill your space.
No guidance to know what to do,
Since you left me in this place.

Soul of mine, I am begging you back.
And I know a long time has past.
You complete everything that I lack,
And without you, I'll never last.

Sometimes during life's short journey,
When faced with so much grief,
A soul forever impacts our own,
Though the meeting may be brief.

I was broken and lying in pieces,
You picked me up and made me whole,
Wiping tears that fell for forever,
And your imprint is still on my soul.

We understand each other, he and I.
Tragedy can do that.
So when I see his eyes shine up a bit...
I look away.
And when my lower lip trembles
He does the same for me.
I know what songs he will need
A shot to get through.
And he knows to let go of my hand
When the sadness comes on too strong.
We are each others memories.
Those really special ones.
Each others alternative
To the loves we once had
Loves that changed us.
We share the same knowledge
That love like that won't come twice.
We don't hope or pray for it.
We don't have to expect it.
So when he kisses my temple and whispers, " It will be ok," I do the same for him.
We hold each other up when the
Balance is lost in our minds.
We are naked and beautiful.
Because there is nothing left for either of us to lose,
Or gain,
Or recover.
We just get to be part of the lonely hearts club band together.
Just passing the time until time passes.
Sharing lonely beds,
Overcooked food,
Knowing gazes,
And pity.
Jigsaw puzzles,
JJ Grey,
And "let me pass," kisses.
We tell the same stories over and over
Because we forget we told them.
I like that.
His cat likes me too.
Shine on you crazy ******' diamond,
And I will shine on you.

If anyone ever wanted to know me
All they would have to do is read my poetry.
My whole life, my entire being is in there.
My past, my present, my future....all there.
All the joy and loves I've known right there
Along with dreams that failed,
Opportunities lost, faith forgotten, faith renewed
Desires, secrets, ****** encounters
My sweet side, my dark sides
My fears and my inadequacies
Humor, habits, hope, and hang ups.
All there.
The things my heart breaks for
The things that couldn't break me.
Even the things I purposefully broke.
But so far no one has had the urge
To read all this nonsense
And I am okay with that.
Better to know myself than to be known.

Where will thy spirit settle,
For it has known...
Beauty in the reeds,
Peace upon the shore,
Sanctity of an empty horizon.
Yet returns to the helm restless every time.
Unsatisfied yet unweary.
Unanchored yet still tied.
Riding whims waves,
At its own mercy.
Seeking a harbor to find one,
and yet another...
Only to turn its sail away,
And return to the helm once again.
Will the current ever breach the captain's will?

And they called her "SELFISH"
For suddenly...!
Refusing ,
Not to live

The little innuendos life drops like sand
When you venture out in space.

Just small simple reminders, slaps on the hand
To stay in your ordained place.

Keep peace on an empty porch, feet upon the floor
Without tears upon your face.

Spend time with well worn pages, just like before,
Call it sad, but know it's grace.

When I see your face my heart twists
And wrings the tears out of my eyes.

How many breaths have I been deemed, from birth unto the grave?
How do I ascertain what to let go of, and just what I should save?

How will my emotions alert me as to when to laugh, or when to cry?
How many failures must I endure, until I decide to no longer try?

How many debts must I struggle to pay, before finally earning my due?
How am I to know my enemies, when even friends become untrue?

How am I to see the rainbow, with the sun right in my eyes?
How can I stand to believe again, after falling for the lies?

I'd like a clearer vision, of the truth this life does hold.
A rational perspective, distinct, like hot or cold.
With which to use in daily life to choose the wiser way
And tap into my soul's self worth, so I can simply say.

That which is before me, concerns me none at all.
For it is not within my power, I will not hear its'call.
And turn myself internal; focus only on those things,
Which depend on only me, and the peace this brings.

And find a calm serenity that has eluded me up 'til now,
Resolving to be the best I can,to myself I make this vow.
And in the quest for absolute happiness, I will find,
That all it takes, is to myself and others.. just be kind.

The sun played with trees this morning
It tickled the dew laden leaves
And tagged the shadows
Enticed a game of hide and seek
With the spiders webs
While the sparrows laughed along
With the audience of squirrels
In the backyard playground.  
It was peace enough for the day
I sent it all to you
On a prayer
Through the stone walls.

Heart!
With your dull, throbbing core!
Cease this yearning!
Cease this unrelentless hunger!
Cease this irrational ideation!
Ever increasing, heartbeat by heartbeat!
Each one beating harder, heavier, more powerful than the last!
Proceeding! Proceeding! Proceeding!
Repeating! Repeating! Repeating!
Thumping! Thumping! Thumping!
Beating! Beating! Beating!
Dictator!
Heart!
End this insanity!
Ere I cut you out myself!

We are granted little glimpses of heaven,
All throughout our life.
Noticed less in joyful times,
But more so during strife.

The outstretched hands of the sun,
Reaching through the trees,
Enduring the heat, insufferable,
But then - a transient breeze.

An infant staring across a room,
Who seems to seek your heart.
A friends who helps glue the pieces back,
When everything falls apart.

A hug from an unexpected source,
That diffuses all your pain,
The twinkling of the wild grass,
After a summer's rain.

A smile from an uncertain stranger,
That identifies your need,
Knowing your prayer is answered,
The very instant that you plead.

A lazy day without any rush,
When all the chores are done,
Laughter born of your very soul,
Just when life has lost all fun.

The privilege to hold a dying hand,
The relief of a second chance,
Are just a few little glimpses of heaven,
All that we must do....is glance.

On a sermon note,  when I guess I should have been listening, I scribbled a poem years ago that I now find in a long neglected book I used to smuggle in every Sunday. A stoic book and in the folds I find the never published long forgotten write of an imagined future day that fate holds from above just out of grasp. That sparkling jewel of hope. A day with darting eyes and deep swallows, heaving hidden breaths, electric thoughts. Two of the corners are shriveled now , one side requiring unrolling the see the last words of each line. Interjected words here and there to change the nuance just a bit. Truth is in there, pleasure too. Between the space of whispered glances and a final goodbye. Wonder what it all means now. I can't quite wrap my head around it much like the sermon of that day. So I will leave it with Pope, right in the middle of the Windsor Forest, "to consult the dead and live past ages o'er."

Tell me......Will the morning... bring the expected rain?
                        And won't the anticipation of it ease some of the pain?

Tell me......Will tomorrows' grief... be too much to bear?
                        But if it's awaited, leave some grief to spare?

Tell me......Will the next mistake... be worse than them all?
                        But, if it's premeditated, won't it look rather small?

Tell me......Will the next sacrifice... be the ultimate one?
                        But if given early, then won't my will be done?

Tell me......Will the unavoidable tears... still be a mighty dread?
                        If some are cried prematurely, won't there be less to shed?

Tell me......Will I escape any... of the misery- filled future lot?
                        If I choose to feel it now, by then will I have forgot?

Tell me......Is it better... to suffer heartache in its' time?
                        Or, perhaps, save some toil, and just break it in its' prime?

Tell me the difference between......

A good man and a great one...
A little white lie and a lie........
One who cheated and a cheater.........
A promise and a vow..............
An honest answer and an oath
Punishment and cruelty
Dislike and hatred
Believing and faith
Loving and being in love
Knowing and understanding
Holding and clinging
Resting and relaxing
Writing and expressing
Overlooking and forgiving
Ignoring and forgetting


Is there any difference
At all?, ....I am not sure.
In fact, I think them quite the same,
But one with so much more.

Tell me what you think of Liberation.
Is it a loss or gain?
It offers the option to disregard,
And to act without refrain.

Allows you to loose your hold of,
Things held with tightened grip.
Yet along with all that power,
Your morality may just slip.

Along with all your ethics,
Virtue then viewed with disdain.
So, tell me what you think of Liberation.
Is it a loss or gain?

It used to be that you bared you soul,
Allowing all to see your delicate side.
But lately I sense a change in you,
A hostility deep inside.

I can't be certain it's really there,
Or if I am mistaken instead.
But by projecting bitterness,
You have rattled my head.

You have left me with no choice at all,
No choice at all ...and I must face,
The always real and rarely pretty,
Pain outside my space.

No, it's not all flowers and candy,
and flashy smiles all of the time.
And thank you for reminding me,
With another astounding rhyme.

So I as spend the rest of my day,
I will try to be much more aware,
That someone, somewhere sits alone,
With nobody else to care.

You were here yesterday
For just a moment I saw you
Bag on your arched back
Frown on your face
With darting dilated eyes
Changed...rather altered
In so short a time
From the best piece of me
Into the addicted you
That held no favor anymore
For the old familiar one
So starved for the chaos
That the demon feeds you
That you never noticed me
Begging in anguish for you
To be you again
Inside my head
Over and over and over
And then you were gone
I couldn't stop you
I couldn't fix you
But I still love you
You are living too fast
While I die too slow

All the nasty names they have
For you who I call friend.
Foul mouth from the "righteous" ones
Of which there is no end.
But it is because of you
My heart is able to break
For the ones with glassy eyes
And for the ones that shake
For every single soul that
Sought and yet could not find
A connection they so needed
A-**** those we call man"kind."
Too many just ignore you,
Therefore they can not see
Gods purpose in your sickness
Is to cure someone like me.
Ill from my own ignorance
Til I asked you for your name.
And then you shared your story
And I'll never be the same.
For those chains that you always wear
They have somehow set me free
God taught me what real love was
By revealing you to me.
So I call it a true blessing
Through God's mysterious way
That I can see the beauty of
The addicts for which I pray.

I remember him yanking the sheets away from me
And how the cold hit my skin
Stung
Drawing my knees up to cover my nakedness
Clutching them to my chest to hide
Totally exposed against my will
Seeing something like repulsion in his eyes only different.. more empty
While I cried and begged for the covers back
For a very long time while he laughed
Before balling up the sheet and slinging it at my face
And then saying, "put some ******* clothes on, *****."
Then he left the room.
This from someone I loved, who used to love me.
From someone who became a stranger.
Almost overnight.
And that's how one chooses not to love again.

In the afterglow of prodigal, there is found a sour taste,
One of worthless memories, and of time that was a waste.
A bitterness which became ingrown by neglectful disconnect,
Which thrives on learned indifference and a lack of self respect.
And as for needs, there are not many, shy of another breath.
But even that is questionable, still there is no desire for death.
A ticking clock with broken hands, there's no edge on the knife,
Thus only the heartbeat's contrary to, an empty pointless life.

I feel the arms that hold me now,
But they do not touch with care.
They do not know my heart like you,
Or the hurt that lingers there.
They do not know my damaged pride,
They'll never know my fears.
They will never come to love me,
Or wipe away my tears.
But if I squeeze my eyes shut tight,
My heart almost thinks it true,
That the arms that hold me now,
Belong, my love to you........

Did the songwriter write me a song or verse?
And add a melody in honor of me?
Did an orchestra play before a silenced crowd?
My beauty on display for all to see?

Did the sculptor etch me in his bust?
Exposed to all,  only knowing trust.
Taking care with talented stroke.
With focused eyes and masking cloak.

Did the Canadian poet have me in mind?
In the beautiful words he can easily find.
Whose works, uncensored, like a child at play.
Pen, purely mimics, what my soul wants to say.

I'd like to think I may have inspired,
A great man to do something great.
Even if only to transcend a moment;
And seize eternity before it's too late.

Please do not convict me,
Of a crime I've not yet done.
Just because I pondered retreat,
Doesn't mean that fear has won.

Every time a war is waged,
Within myself, I try,
To view the battlefield from afar,
With every slant of eye.

And strategically position myself,
To see every point of view.
And then do some recognizance,
Before deciding what to do.

Please do not convict me,
Of a crime I've not yet done.
Just because I pondered retreat,
Doesn't mean that fear has won.

He was born in the year nineteen sixty nine.
His place of origin, not completely sure.
But he is presently residing in Canada.
In the wrong era, that he must endure.

In the English days of yesteryear,
He would have been deemed so great.
I would love to travel back with him,
For I, also, was born too late.

I may have sat cross-legged,
On a sloping grassy hill,
And listened so intently,
To his amazing skill.

Or perhaps he would be reading,
In a theatre that's oh so grand.
And by carriage they would travel,
To hear the best poet in the land.

But would we know each other,
The way that we now do.
Or would I be just another common,
Hoping for a glance from you.

Would I stand afar so you couldn't see,
The longing in my eyes.
To know you and to have you know me,
My passion in disguise.

There is one thing that's certain,
Whether circa 1700 or 2010.
You are my very special poet,
If breathing now or living then.

A new scent, yet familiar,
Arrives with October air.
Diluting the final fragrance,
Of spring's intial flair.

A welcome usher,....wind;
Accustom to depart;
Blows the stagnant perfume,
That summer did impart.

Breath with much less effort,
The soul inspires yet,
To a pure and vacant aroma,
Lest heaven we forget.

I think about the future, and what it just may hold.
And whether it is up to me, or a plan that must unfold.
I hesitate to think about, what lies too far ahead.
When I do, I overdo, and then can't clear my head.

I would love to learn to take things, just as they come along,
And not debate every choice I make, as either right or wrong.
To stop trying to live up to, what others' say I should be.
Maybe fly away for the weekend, try some spontaneity.

Stop and talk to a passer by, who's wearing shabby clothes,
Listen close, and maybe learn, something no one knows.
Take more breaks and be the center, of my own attention,
Find a way to spend a day, with too many smiles to mention.

Open up to a new found friend, holding nothing back at all,
Expand my horizons to find, the world really, isn't all that small.
And if I chose to do everything, that my heart truly desired,
Would I ever know if it was me, or the plan which had conspired?

born contrary to common man
turned internal forevermore
no deviation from the stoics plan
each day is the same as before
no highs no lows ever shone
temperate consistent with mean
mind is numb body is drone
no hint joy has ever been seen
also no sadness just infinite plain
thoughts discussed only inside
no elation and yet no pain
nothing to show hence nothing to hide
surrounded by unaltering vision
sight is flat and color free
precise with no need of precision
only methodical rigidity
hope knows not of what to entreat
soul knows not of what to contain
already within no place to retreat
removed disconnected insane

I heard the crow at dawn again.
It awoke me from a deep slumber.
As if to chastise me for not being up already.
There is so much to do, of course.
So I sat up on the edge of the bed.
And stretched up with my hands clasped.
The sun slowly creeping itself over the window ledge
And striking my eye just so...making me squint.
The crow called again.
I must not be fast enough for him.
I stand up with a half- hearted vigor
And rub my eyes.
I proceed with with my morning routine
Skipping the harsh mouthwash today.
Again the crow.
He hurries me as if I am racing a clock.
And makes my heart beat more prominently in my chest.
What an awful call a crow has.
Incessant and prodding.
I feel as if I am being yelled at and I don't deserve that.
I cross into the kitchen and reach over the door.
To the mount that holds my ol' Winchester.
I push open the squeaking screen door.
And step outside.
Again the crow calls but this time I am rallied.
I am too slow for him, am I?
We will see about that!