Oh but yet another drunken spillage
Onto a quiet hidden page
Pieces moving all around
While I am filled with rage
A soul barely lived
And begging for a span
So barely loved amongst
The mediocre man.

At mile marker thirteen,
everything is numb.
Around the block time and again,
the cycle never done.

Too many greetings, hellos and goodbyes.
Too many crossings, too many sighs.
The rush has ceased, the thrill is gone.
Brow quite furrowed, face quite drawn.

Might there be a pothole?
Or perhaps a steep incline?
Hell, I'd even take a head-on,
Just to feel this heart of mine.

It's just like sluggish raindrops
The way they slowly trickle in
All those memories we had to tuck away
To begin
To begin...again.

The raindrops and wipers
Kept time with the song
The redlights and brakelights
All soon played along
The stop and go rhythm
Of the shifting of gears
So perfectly synced
With my falling tears.

Oh! With what diligent effort,
Did you once seek a love?
And found it almost perfect,
What you had the offer of?
And then with careless disregard,
Inspection and with creed,
Give up that almost perfect love,
That you felt you did not need?
Then while it vaguely wandered,
Did you call out a time or two?
Wishing that now perfect love,
Would come right back to you?
Love, it seeks a welcome home,
It doesn't beat a darkened door,
And it will choose a foreigner,
Over one it's loved before.
But it teaches a certain lesson,
While the season's timely close,
That almost perfect love becomes,
More perfect as it goes..............

The first winged utterance,
Beckons me awake.
Full cacophony follows,
And the night does break.

The smell of stillness lifted.
Mobile creatures stir.
Fading in of embers.
Distance swathed in blur.

Futile night retreateth.
Welcomed warmth ensues.
Filtered by a newborn breeze,
Cooling mornings' dews.

The reluctant mist...it rises.
Hastily...oh so slow.
Lingering in the moment,
As if sad the last did go.

And, oh!, to hold an hourglass,
To halt the marching hour.
And take note of every miracle,
Unfolding in its' power.

Enjoy the blessings we are given,
And take for granted none,
Share all of who we really are,
With each and everyone.

Oh! What a long storm has travailed here,
With only a short lull or two.
That rainbow which we presume is near?
Is a thunder's span length from view.
Who called the clouds and who rose the mist?
Did memory beckon again?
Green grass that once surely did exist,
Has since died between now and then.
The trees are so very tired now,
And their limbs can hold no more weight,
And for them and I and you, I fear,
That the rainbow is much too late.

The past came back to bite me again tonight
Hungry he was, hungrier than the hounds of hell themselves
Tearing off another piece so viciously
And so unexpected...he's quiet you know
Sneaking in with his non-reflective eyes
there's no warning
His talons are the reminder, in actual time,
That nothing has changed.
The past the same as the present
only later....
after he waited so patiently
until his appetite was more than he could withstand
ravenous, bloodthirsty he is
And I thank him.
Good friends, he and I.
Always arriving in time
To grant another wound I can lick
and a scar I can appreciate
Bringing another revelation that a ***** in a bikini is easier to look at
Than a beautiful soul......
A purposeless, lonely, beautiful soul.
Thank you my friend.
I enjoyed your visit.
Come back and see me soon.
Come hungry.

Please make some space for me, my friend,
in your exhausted soul.
Allow others a chance to know you,
So that you may soon be whole.

Please make some space for me, my friend,
I want inside, you see?
You have so much to give the world,
Please offer some to me.

Shake off all your troubles,
Throw weariness away!
Breathe among the living,
Say all you're scared to say!

True, it takes some effort,
and lust for life you lack,
But try, please try, my dear friend,
to take your passion back.

I have friends with whom I share,
great poetry and verse.
And friends I visit taverns with,
to drink with and to curse.

And friends with who I share a passion,
for music and for art.
And also those, just like me,
kindred spirits of the heart.

Some, I will call, when I am down,
and weary from lifes' run.
Some, I long to just gift a smile,
before every day is done.

Some, who seem to need my presence ,
to heal such a simple pain,
Some whose smiles touch my soul,
and shelter me from rain.

Some who like the same wine as me,
some coffee and some books.
Some who care little of possessions,
some who are all into looks.

There are some with whom I share a movie,
some I respect their great advice.
There are some who are simply pure genius,
and others; .... not quite so wise.

From professions, they all do differ,
no occupation is the same.
Most of them have no mutual liking,
but two...they share a name.

No. Each friend, has naught the others',
unique fortune, skills, or fame.
But I endear each to their own,
and treasure them all - the same.

I read back a decade ago
Words that were written just for me
So beautiful and so pleading
To accept what was meant to be.
I relive the only era
I have ever known passion true
Embittered by the knowledge that
I lost it all when I lost you.
Delusional I guess I am
Believing to this very day
That a pad, a pen, and passport
Could take a decades pain away.
Taking daily mental pictures
Of things I have no way to share
Thinking you would want to see them
But you probably wouldn't care
"It's time to let him go" they say.
"You can't move on unless you do."
Ten years later and still alone.
Because my heart belongs to you.

Just a little note to tell you,
A little about my day,
Work was long, I saw your mail,
And the sky was grey.
After work I went and met,
With my daughter at the mall,
And no she is not coming home,
And doesn't miss me ...not at all.
I see your orange little blinking light,
At the bottom of my screen,
But I don't feel like talking right now,
I'm not trying to be mean.
I must go to the attorney's office,
Very early in the morn,
I'm really just a walking zombie,
Who is torn..so very torn.
I cried in the rain this evening,
And no one even knew,
I wonder what you did today,
Was it raining there too?
I know that you are reading,
Everything I write,
And somehow I feel a little better,
A little bit more "right."
I have grieved a lot of loss,
Over the past few years,
Tear-free then, but crying now,
A lifetime's pent up tears.
You've always had all the answers,
So please, can you tell me, my friend,
Just when will the weights be lifted,
When will my confusion end?

In my little coffee shop,
Is where I long to be,
Filled with old and dusty books,
In the hills of Tennessee.

Every morning the same will come,
With a little gossip to share.
And hang out in my lil' coffee shop,
Where time isn't even a care.

I hope there will be some who read,
And some who play some games.
And it won't be very long 'til I,
Know every single one of their names.

And they will feel like family,
The shop will feel like home,
And I will have found where I belong,
With no need more to roam.

In my little coffee shop,
Is where I long to be,
Filled with old and dusty books,
In the hills of Tennessee.

Who is this who lies in my bed,
That I don't even know?
Who's so messed up within his head,
With nowhere else to go?

Feeding me breakfast poisoned with dreams,
And singing me hope to sleep?
Who then lies awake concocting schemes,
For with my soul to keep?

A master and a villain he be,
Behind an angel's eyes.
Yet he's the fool...it is not me,
I see through his disguise.

You see perception blessed me thrice,
And now I am full aware.
Fool me once, fool me twice,
But again? You best beware!

For I can also lace the truth,
To cut you down to size;
Use your deceit as my reproof,
And justify the lies.

But use my pillow - I'll play the role,
And take my portion double.
Before I snip your twisted soul,
"My pleasure..it's no trouble."

As soon as any moment comes free,
I jump on Hp...just to see....
If you've been on and just maybe,
Have written a brand new poem for me.

You will always be those slippers
and the one I talk to you in my mind
and when I'm just needing a smile
yours will be the face I find
you are the truth.. the absolute
that time can't paraphrase
the beginning and the middle
and the end of all my days  
when everything is seeming grim
when my lifes end is drawing near
ill just slip those slippers on
and say goodbye my dear.

I have this special place I go,
     Each morning when I rise.
And watch the brilliant sun appear,
     Such pleasure for my eyes.

It beams between two branches,
     Each from a different tree.
That mingled many years ago,
     And here's what else I see..

Glimmering patterns of spiders' webs, spun...
     So carefully.
Beams of light on a moistened field, fall...
     So perfectly.

Many shades of green and yellow,
     Moss hanging from a tree.
The most beautiful place on earth,
     That is what I see.

I have this special place I go,
     Every morning I hold dear.
And listen to all of natures' sounds,
     So pleasing to the ear.

A variety of peaceful chatter,
     Some are far and some are near.
All the carefree birds and beasts,
     And here's what else I hear........

The cacophony of a thousand birds,
     Hoping new friends to make.
The ******* bark of a distant dog,
     Coaxing men to wake.

The frenzied crackles of leaves and twigs,
     As the squirrels play chase.
When I close my eyes and just simply listen,
     That's what I hear in this place.

I have this special place I go,
     No other I love as much.
Where I can take a needed break,
     And I can surely touch,

My souls' own piece of heaven,
     Where I can sit or I can kneel.
And have peace wash right over me,
     And here's what else I feel.....

A crisp, cool breeze to refresh...
     My mind.
The soothing warmth of the sun...
     So kind.

The occasional teasing,
     From a misguided bee.
Tiny hairs on my neck,
     Lightly tickling me.

An absolute serenity;
     Throw all my worries away.
There is no better way or place,
     That I wish to start each day.

Soon, the heartbeat of the world,
     Beckons me from this place.
And reluctantly I must turn to go,
      But with a smile on my face.

You don't seem to understand,
But you seem to hear.
You try to whisper something,
But the words aren't very clear.
Soon you will not talk at all.
They say that time is near.
That we've shared our final look,
Is my biggest fear.

I finally had to leave your room,
It hurt too much to stay.
I just can't sit there helpless,
Not knowing what to say.
Wondering if you even know,
That I am there anyway.
More use am I in the chapel,
At least there I can pray.

I can"t act strong anymore,
Be the only tearless eye,
So to comfort all the others,
Not allow myself to cry.
I've pent it up for many days,
Now I'm scared to even try.
But I think that it is my turn now,
My turn to say Goodbye.

I am not within your universe
Where imagination's dead.
I dwell apart in another
I created in it's stead.
Where mood is easily altered
By the rationing of the sun.
Though all the fragrances mingle
I still name them one by one.
My universe without any walls
Yet no entrance either be
Unparalled to any other because
It belongs to only me.

The rational connection of mind to heart, fails;  amidst oppression.
And selfs' own sake will hide away, concede;  deny expression.
As I, now, twisted internal, seeking within, my fill.
For famine of mankinds' virtues, beckons me to my own will.

To draw upon my minds' well waters, reason every discourse thrown,
But are these resolves born true? Is this slant really my own?
Or some opinion, stole in past, from man with noble name,
Or truly this, my own wit? But impressed, are they not the same?

Though  life revealed foe, of friend; the spirits' urge will still attend.
And Hope; unbound, ever present, dwells; unfaltering, fervent to end.
And Faith, oh Faith, clings on, clings on;  amidst war and grief, despair.
Such as a moth to a miniscule light, when the beam is no longer there.

Though I have no mortal hand to clasp, no steps in tune to compose,
Behold, Hope and Faith still wander inside,  and outward, in my prose.
And what of Nature? I'll tell you. Possession of a freedom I full own.
No enemy, traitor, nor judge can claim the memories I have known.

The majestic crystal sparkling, of tiny buds on trees.
When noon is at its' highest, clear day on summers' eve.
Deafening quiet, stillness yet, of brook in land, far, near.
Where all alone, I gathered pebbles, and threw to spring so clear.

To sit and almost ponder, paths foreborne, foregone and chose,
Then too pensive, outcast those thoughts, minds' purpose opted close.
And stared, vacant, purposeless; to focal point, of what?, unsure;
Oppression could not enter there; for nature and heart were pure.

And dear sweet wind to hydrate, the thirst; sunquenched,  my skin,
Yet not too fierce or frequent, that would be appreciations' sin.
Clouds, course set  by own accord, frolicking, playfully, with the sun,
Flit over, near, under, and back, and then softly, become just one.

And behold, grey cloud, rumbling, with precipice; this is natures'way,
To alter sky and mind inspire;  grant seasons within the day.
And rain; higher powers' solace, to cool, to heal, to renew,
Sparkles more grandly at times by far, then sun on the morning dew.


May life impose upon my heart, oppression, body frail, dreary cope,
It shall not ever wrench the hold of Nature, Faith, and Hope.

I'm attractive enough
Smart too
Willing to do things
Others won't do
The purple in the room of white
The spirit that no one can hold
Nothing ever meets my prize
No one ever sparks my soul
Alone I wander alone I live
And cry in torture every night
That I've no one to share this life
That nothing no one makes me right

'Tis nothing but a chasm now
Much easier to melon ball out the rest
Than try to refill it.

Tonight I felt completion,
Such as at the ending of a show,
Of which all along I was unsure,
About where the plot would go.

And happily I was surprised,
Of the open- ending leave,
With a promise of a sequel,
Which will be even better...I believe!

A sign of true nobility, they say,
Is to exit premature.
Denying the host the privelege of,
Showing you the door.
Scrutiny upon your leaving,
You're regarded a bit obscure,
But did she really want you to go,
And tell me are you quite sure?

I love to read any poem of yours,
For every time I do..
I am a part of something bigger,
Just knowing part of you.

At times I can get so inspired,
By even a simple theme.
Other times I just close my eyes,
And allow myself to dream.

And it makes not a difference,
The mood I am in that day.
Your message always gets to me,
And takes me right away.

To a place where everything is ok,
If even for just a short while.
And I can take a few deep breaths,
Wipe away my tears and... smile.

So I need to say thank you,
Even if I have said before..
For sharing with me your talent,
And making me long for so much more.

There is a lonely place out there,
Where I know that I belong,
Where right is right, and only white,
And wrong is never wrong.
And there is no judge looking down,
No jury in which to sway.
Only me...there is only me,
And that's where I will stay.

Ok, here is what you asked for.
For me to speak my mind.
And just say exactly what I feel,
Careless words... they come to mind.

I think of you when I open eyes,
And before I go to bed,
In fact I think of you every moment,
You're always in my head.

I'd neglect everything around me,
For the chance to share with you.
Yet I seem to have another who loves me,
And I don't know what to do.

I am now faced with a lot of decisions,
And how will I ever choose.
I want to follow this feeling recklessly,
But pride is so hard to lose.

But I am so tired from holding it back,
So I'm just going to share it all.
I believe you could be the one for me,
Happily ever after..... after all?

It's very hard to leave a world,
Where everything was a lie.
And start over again elsewhere,
Without suspicion in my eye.

And everytime I see a sight,
Or overhear a lowered tone,
I just can't help but wonder,
If the truth was ever shown.

And in my chest I quickly feel,
My heart drop to my feet,
Always looking for more lies,
From everyone that I meet.

And even if I can not prove them,
I believe all the lies are there,
And they serve as a harsh reminder,
That it is better never to care.

And even if I have it all wrong,
And one has a heart that's true,
As long as I walk away quickly,
It will be like I never knew.

My pride and heart will remain intact,
As they always should be.
And I will be able to hold my head high,
"No one got the best of me."

I go now to the darkened room.
Where no one can hear me.
Where I can sob, and weep and moan.
And no one can hear me.
Where there is no shame at all,
Because no one can hear me.
Where my heart cries out for help,
And no one will hear me.

I sit again cross-legged now,
Swaying to and fro.
On my swing, alone as always,
The safest place I know.

Where peace has always found me,
On the wings of wind's soft touch,
For a time I thought that it was free,
But in truth, it cost so much.

The leaves, they fall around me,
Flowers bloom to die again,
I hear the sounds of living somewhere,
But my swing is where I've been.

A few hands did try to shake me,
But I rocked so out of fear,
Of where leaving just might take me,
So I chose to just stay here.

But the boards, they are now creaking,
From the weight of courage lost.
Yes, I used to think my peace was free,
But I know now what it cost.

It cost me the love and cost me the joy,
Hope strived so hard to bring.
And no peace can be found in that,
Not even on this swing.