I am.... me, the analytical opinionated thing that simply seeks to figure out all things of meaning. Filled with intense curiosity, I engage in conversations to discover the nature of relations - yet with a sense of patience I pursue greatness, for being nothing is not where I want to be.

Yes, I struggle against the thought of a stagnant reality. I seek to experience what I can, understanding that the eventuality is the greatest adventure that I'll ever undergo.

Where am I headed, you ask? I'm headed to find the lady who can engage me with her mind, keep in tune with my time, and lazily make her way through life wandering through this beautiful rhyme. Pursuing that is my goal, to argue and banter with a woman with lilt to her laughter and together we can start a new chapter - Make the world quake at it's knee's with our vibrant, crafty endeavors! But, these things are never forced and waiting is the key. I'll continue to explore learning ever more, so that when I meet her our scores in the game of life should at least be even!

Beyond that? I flow like water from one moment to the next, never stopping, a rushing current of entertainment, logical manipulations and expert ministrations so that I can take life by the hand and save her from the river of a slowly deteriorating time!

-

The world, is my rhyme.
Beauty and the divine will be mine, in time.
The winds slow chime, eases through my mind,
Clarity appeases all my troubled thoughts.

-

What things have I wrought?

Once, I tried to paint a picture of you,
With words. It didn't work.
Somehow my colors didn't reflect your light
In just the way I wanted.
Frustrated, I tried again to master my brush
And set it to its task,
But forcing it only marred the picture,
And that - I couldn't have.
I finally had to tell myself that I had tried
To bridge two worlds.
For my hued words were but your simile,
My painting - Your doomed metaphor.

Once there was a simple song, from which all songs did spring,
It was smooth, soft and sweet - 'Twas a pretty thing.
But the song grew tired - For so long had it sung alone
That bereft of a simple love, it returned to it's single home.
And through the morning forests, and through the far-off seas,
The early things set to waiting for the Song of Autumn Leaves-

And so this song was one day borne, into a waiting world
And captured in the softened form- Of a baby girl.
And this girl would travel the world, blessed with a gift of singing
Praised for her golden voice, revered for her hope and dreaming-
So the forests began to rustle, and the seas soon went to discussing
About this sweet and simple girl, to whom to they turned to trusting
For she was borne to help the healing of a troubled land
Asking nothing in return,to give everything she had
As the years went passing by, she slowly came to think
That no one loved her for her, they only wanted her to sing.
Then she swore to silence, so the forests and seas began to craft
A wooden man with a heart of pearl to help her love and laugh-
Set at the foot of a far-off coast, The wooden man began to look
For the hiding place of the Autumn Song, and as it was it took
Years before he found her, And the winds grew colder on each,
Without her voice to guide him, she was never within his reach.
So he climbed to the top of a mountain, and gazed out to look afar
And spied her lying in a moonlit field, in the Valley of the Falling Star.
So quickly he went to her, and in the valley set to easing her mind
Tickling her with a leafy branch - She laughed for the first time!
And he told her stories, of things he had done and seen
When trying desperately to find her, so that her eyes began to gleam.
And then quite gently, he asked her what was wrong
And smiling so beautifully, she obliged him with a song-
And the song moved him so, that the wooden man began to cry,
And when his sappy tears touched him, the wooden man came alive!
And the joy the two discovered was a thing of natural beauty,
And their love became a legend - It was so soft, sweet and soothing
That it stood in song for ages hence, an example of what could be
When mankind mingles with sound, of when music and nature meet.

One summer day, as time wore on,
I found myself traversing a street.
It was unfamiliar, and led to a field,
At the end of which lay an old creek.

I stopped for a second, something in the air
Asked of me to take a look -
And, Behold! Astoundingly enough...
Tremendous beauty was ingrained in the brook!

The water performed it's marvelous play
In passionate hues of Azure.
A stark blue with a pastel inlay,
Shining with an unearthly allure.

But as if to add to the moment,
In one epiphanic display -
The evening sun deigned to glance down
And strike it in just the right way.

And the sight! It drew my breath
A slow mist inviting light within,
As if the entire scene was bathed in gold,
With tones of blue and green mixed in.

Then, seemingly, as fast as it had come,
The picture vanished - Gone in a flash!
Darkness now engulfed the world,
Tommorow perhaps the light will be back.

She walked. While I shuffled my feet and stared at the ground.
Lights. Dancing around her in neon moonlit sound.
Grey rainclouds, they hummed a mournful tune
But I kept walking, and I tried to make a little room.
She turned, and the sun crept out and gave a little grin.
He smiled, awed at the sight in front of him but,
I mustered up, and sent her a slight return
And with a wave, she kissed away my concern-
Now we're walking. I can't speak a word.
The shy duck with the beautiful red bird,
We flew off; And soared high in the sky-
The sun had set, slightly reflected while I'm...
Bold as Love.
We're all... Bold as Love.
And I'm Bold as Love.
Just ask the Axis.

You there – suspended loftily in air;
Your feathers so shiny and sleek -
Tell me; What do you know, Brother Crow,
Of that which I always seek?

What are you hiding, while wind-riding?
What? Something about flying alone?
I want to know; My Brother Crow,
About my oft dreamt-of home.

The ever sky filled with azure dye;
It must speak to you of freedom -
And it may be true, but only for you,
Our grounded lives are already done.

For me; Can you show those fields, of melted snow?
Those obsidian peaks beneath the so-blue Sea?
I truly need to go, Brother Crow,
But why won't you ever take me?

You there – suspended haughtily in air;
Your feathers so shiny and sleek-
Tell me; What could you know, Selfish Crow,
Of that which I always seek?

This man; His heart was close to frozen
And forever ached for time to thaw it.
He had worked on his warmth-wont wall
So that no one could ever hurt him.

His hands held the kinds of worried warmth
Known to men who were short on time,
As if life was merely granted, not given
And could be taken at proper sign.

So he slowly started to lose himself
In the wild winters of an improper world,
Growing numb to others troubles,
But then he met the girl -

And she beautifully betrayed him,
So his walls were brought back in force.
To never again let the sunlight in,
To never let emotion beget remorse.

I once told a friend that life is for sun-
For lying on beaches and writing poems;
For love and beauty and childish fun;
For enjoying our youth before age takes hold.
He replied, "But aren't there days of endless rain?
Of staying home sick; Having your love denied?
Failing luck, terror and beating pain-
Isn't misfortune also a part of life?"
I mused too, then said, "Indeed,
Life is filled with horror and strain,
But joy forever will also be.
Sunlight is always right behind the rain-
So we shout, "C'est la vie!"

The wind blows briskly. Echoes abound.
The night is calm, with few simple sounds.
I miss you, you know. There's a spot just for you.
I'm here alone, but this night was for two.

I miss you. That thoughts in my head.
Are you sleeping soundly? Quietly in our bed?
I have so many questions, but I don't know the answers,
Will I ever recover from our early encounters?

Love's a funny thing, it ebbs and it flows.
You don't forget though. The rest? Who knows.
Can we live with such eternal regrets?
Or will we fade away, and in time, forget?

Baby, I'm sorry that I can no longer lead.
But I'm grateful for all of the love I've received.
I have left, and I feel you're now leaving.
But I'm alone in the night, and I can't stop my grieving.

Do you know, of love?
Of hearts, connections and trust?
Do you know, of us?
Of things we do, that we must?

If our love, is a game
Can we tie, or must one win?
If our love, is the same
Is the ice we walk too thin?

Can I ask questions, get answers
And trust them forevermore?
Or are feelings fleeting lies,
Held inside as stock and store?

Or perhaps we'll all
Just learn to let it go.
And love each other as best we can,
Keep an even flow-
Before we have to go.

Do you think...
That maybe,
We’re not alone?
That we’re never so useless
As to be zero sum?

Do you think...
That maybe,
We reap what we’ve sown?
That what goes around, comes around
As all goes to one?

Did you think...
That maybe,
They actually loved you?
Without you ever doing the things
That needed to be done?

Do you think, too much?
Do you think, too much?

The leaves know their circumstance-
They see it in the others crying,
Giving glances along the lines perchance
To find their reason for dying.

Given no answers, they assume instead
Doom and gloom is the only reason
But inevitably, with shaken head-
They muster to spite their final season

Dying more beautifully than they ever were living
Till the the last winds breath... they sing-

(This fall, it will be our last~
But why let our pain be known?~
Life is over, much to fast~
But why is it always shown?~
Tonight- We leaves will fight!~
We'll fend away the winter clouds~
So live your life underneath the light~
Age Spectacularly and Die Proud!~)

Fall
I
I've had one to many summers,
And now they've lost their luster.
Fall, however, I've just discovered
And the amber, the gold, forever!

II
Here I wait for Autumn.
September's trees will die.
October comes, and will hide the sun,
under gray blue skies.

III

She sounds a simple ringing tone,
Rife with wind and reeling reeds.
It is calm, cool and moans
With subtle singing needs.
The trees, they fight and fail
The winds will wound their worth,
The leaves will burn, below we learn
The chant of, “Autumn’s Birth”

As the skies start to singe and sear,
And slowly lower, linking the earth and sky-
That sunset to those trees that wept
With their leaves aflame, We must cry,
“Some will seek the sun in the summer,
Some seek the sights and scents of spring
Others will welcome warmth in winter,
But what does our Autumn Bring?
Well, those who tend towards tenuous things
Will find their fantasies fulfilled in fall,
All that they do, meaning to you
Is to feel that Autumnal call-
That of the leaves that fall.”

IV
'Twas a fine fall day, perfect for reflection.
Autumnal hues gently layered the scene.
My Lady and I traveled no particular direction;
Enchanted by nature's artistic perceptions,
We stared awestruck at the trees.


V
This period, Fall (As in Autumn),
restlessly breeds feelings.

Noted: The red, adorned northwestern
festival found wild colour.This Autumn,
colors gathered- Celebrations of the
Indian Season.

The Fall has undergone sorrow states,
(Associated? Death.)
echo the thick mid-autumn leaves.

I lay one night under a wan lamp-light
Thinking of the pursuit of absolutes.
I couldn’t find the needed time
To analyze what I wanted to.

So - This thinking slowly turned to dreaming
And later these few things I did recount,
- A vacant view of wasting progress,
A reversal of streams to their fount.

A deconstruction of action, some cosmic reduction,
Some flight of things that mattered.
The inexorable picking of lock-step existing-
Dreamfields broken. Syntax battered.

Then this slowing movement rose
To some crest in my mocking mind;
And in horror, I met the morrow
with new respect for the conceptually refined-

For the march of progress, the passion in potential,
The power of merely thinking!
For in our discourses of absolute forces
What could be worse than the erasure of meaning?

On this, My most darkened hour,I wait for whatever is creeping.
I dare not drift, for it will catch me for sure if I am sleeping.
The single candle flickers on, and off again, Twitching under the somber ceiling, and I hear it once again;Slowly, surely creeping!

Why? Why is time passing so slowly?! Where is the coming morning?
The wind outside is howling, lamenting premature my death for sure
While the rain outside is pouring! Outside the room the floorboards creak,
While inside, windows leak as if blood were running to the flooring!
And to the ghostly chorus adds some hell-bent creature clinkety-clinking its ungodly mooring!

The high-backed chair is giving no support, and to myself I gain no rapport
To bargain for my own thoughtless soul! Outside, I still hear it creeping
And it brings my person to mindless weeping at the thought of it reaping my god-fearing being as it's goal!

****** comes! It's closer stealing! Now it's at my door! There's nowhere to run And the wooden gate starts to creaking! Is that what I think! Good God Yes! Parched bone from behind is peeking, and with it I set to screaming!

Yes! This, is my most darkened hour! I come face to face with what is creeping! My soul blackens as this horror twisted from the depths of hell comes reaching, Flame red eyes and un-naturally twisted limbs for soul-reaping!Chains all around, deadened smell as it grabs for me, clinkety-clinking! My screams grew as I saw in full view what had been so slowly, surely creeping!

If there is a scheme,
Perhaps this too is in the scheme
- When the subway car turns on a switch
The wheels screeching against the rails,
And the lights go out-
But are on again in a moment.

The forest winds on and on,
There's a path in the underbrush.
Roots coil and brambles foil
Any attempt to rush.

The trail twists over and in,
You can see a clearing at the end.
You can feel your breath pound in your chest
As you round the final bend.

And there it is, The Earthen Tree,
Sun sprinkling through it's green lament.
Morning dew sparkling as you
breath deep, and cherish it's scent.

On the side reaching out her hand,
In a straw hat, is a little girl.
She beckons you to come into the Sun
and leave behind this world.

Life springs from Deaths wings,
Tomorrows another day.
The girls call, a moss cracked wall-
"Beauty is only a breath away"

You see that? Moonbeams. The path is lit lightly.
My hand grazes yours. You reach for it tightly.
Its dark. You knew that. But I spoke so softly,
It slipped past your ears then eased all your fears
So we went walking.

There’s silence, stillness. Can you hear the cool breeze?
Slowly draw still, for there's an end to the trees.
But I've been here before and you can't ignore
That subtle night wind and the scent of warm skin
Will you have a seat, please?

It starts with that sitting. The liking of kind.
It will end with you writhing, out of your mind.
But we aren't there yet, so don't you forget
That these games are for two, (...Just who are you?)
and you can feel us... pulsing in time.

The night is bright, thick. The air is slowing, thus heavy.
I don’t say any words, we know that you’re ready.
There dashes tongue. Ah, You think you’re the one-!
You gasp. Pull your hair, in my grasp
You feel below and it is true, solid and steady.

Relax. You won’t fall, these arms steady all.
Keep breathing, let go. Your voice, stalls
Taken in, so you win. Is this what they call sin?
You so, so wanted, so I came to you undaunted
By anything other than lusts call.

Is that your voice? Darling, why can’t you speak?
I’m not even close, but have you hit your peak?
Ah, you shake. Some small little body-quake.
But you are not won! Oh this is so fun!
You’ll smell of this *** for weeks.

Then I ask, “Are you done?”, No response, stunned.
Glazed, unmoving. Somehow you were one?
I’ve done it before. Yes, there will be more for
I’ll never be satisfied, but should I not try?
As I move back from the coming sun.

In a house built with brick
Built extra thick for protection
A candles burnt to the wick
And they lay in the dark

Together they play no tricks
The day comes quick, they've learned their lesson
Soft sighs, gentle kicks-
While they lay in the dark

The clock keeps its tick
In the nick of time, finished obsession
Passion inside; feigned hate Public
While they live in the dark.

Today, I have encountered something enchanting
Flowing through the outer forest, alighting
With birds and deer, All flora/fauna delighting
In her presence. I was taken to demanding
From myself a further look, reprimanding
my soul for wanting to see more of this beauty
Who could she be? This brown woman, set to soothing
my sailors heart? With another wayward glance,
She vanished- Leaving behind a memory, a missed chance;
And a man with knees too weak to stand.

This forced swinging from high to low
with emotion as my rope;
Perhaps but to fall, the ebb and flow
of a drama of a grand scope:

-

Midnight and the moons resounding note
waning like memories of her caress,
Then-
"Thy soul be sundered; thy life 'tis smote-
Your love 'twas simply in jest!"
Fearfully I cried under a frightful duress-
"Who art thou, wicked seraph! Fiend indeed!!
Why, why should you call my distress?
In my hour of loss, my hour of need?"
It then said, 'Thy know, thy soul I read-
Blasphemer! Defiler of a chaste life!
Sin tis your cover, desire your breed,
To be covetous of anothers wife!"
Furious was my speech - "Take thy seraphic knife,
Let us clash, I shall not fall!
Thou art simply a portent of strife;
Thou hast no honor, no higher call!"
Claimed I, "Thou art not in God's thrall!
Thou art a menace black and seedy,
To come before me with such gall,
to come before a man so needy!"
A horrible visage then arose before me,
Terrifying! This angel of doom-
The moon 'twas struck, lay bleeding-
It's light red, fading soon...
A soul of the darkest gloom,
This being 'twas not ordained!
Beneath the light of the hemorrhaging moon,
I saw what it seeked to gain!
This monster, it fed off of pain,
I cried, "Thou art surely craven!
Thy knife hast many stains,
But how art thou so boldly brazen?
Perhaps hailing from some deathly haven,
or heaven tormented, I know thy measure!
I do know ye, sinful, lust-torn maven,
Forsake sustenance from my pleasure!
Be gone! Shatter thy earthly tether!
Back!" I shrieked- "Away from this plane!"
Whether Angel sent, or Devil, whether
Freudian delusion or Jobs game!
Love and sin art not the same!
So cast off of me your burdened guilt-
Love blooms wildly, it's vines my veins,
And from stronger feelings 'tis built!
I shall not be cursed by passions blame,
and my love shall never wilt!

Smoke hangs,
Suspended in twilight to-night,
Walls washed with dark gray/the transition
To black and white,The forever fight-
City nights and neon lights flying past||||

Can't you feel this punk noir?
The beat of the unseemly, lazy, pulse~
Throbbing with life at every hour/-/-/-

~Sweet dreams, are indeed, made of these~
And these flickering, lights, shine off and on,
Lost in a chasm of their own, making
Cavernous, the specks illuminate the dark,
A walk on the borderline-
/in the park?

Night, this is our time-
The light is gone now, come play-
What do you have to say?

A heart contains several notes-
Melodies for special situations.
Played like drums or quickly strummed,
they produce emotions.

A midnight tryst contains a lovely ballad,
Tempered later by the blues;
Fighting words will illicit drama
sung by a broadway muse.

Fear of fate will still sing the gospel
following a quick bout of prayer-
While a sunset always arrives
following electronic days in subtle layers.

Anothers pain is echoed by a wailing sound,
A guitar crying their hurt that day;
While a flute, light and airy,
brings peace and fends loss away.

A snow covered field on a winters day
is reflected by all that jazz;
And a solo by a lone violin
will remind us of beauty past.

A single aria from a lonely soul
becomes a duet between lovers,
while a dirge follows inevitably
when they depart each other.

So from my heart to yours,
Why can't we sing forever?
Let's let our souls fly free and
see what music we'll make together.

Mama, can I have one more bowl of chili?
I'd like to have some before you go.
Only you can make it the way I like it,
So can I please have some more?

Mama, is there any left?
I called but you're not there.
Did you leave the recipe?
Did you know? Did you care?

Mama, you're not answering.
I finished the final bowl,
Can you make some one last time?
Can you please pick up the phone?

Mama, please, please pick up the phone.
Your chili's hot and alive,
And I’m so cold and alone.

Once a Man stared over the sea
And contemplated the Forever.
He decided there was beauty there,
So he set to crosssing over.

For years he worked his simple hands,
With his mind set to his task,
Working tirelessly towards his goals,
He continued, on and on until-
It stood before him.
The Bridge sailed beyond the sunset,
And landed somewhere in heaven's fence.
He was sure he caught forever there.
Isn't that something? Something to be shared?
And share he did, with his closest friends, but
They scoffed, and laughed, looked at him
As if he was crazy. But then
They saw it for themselves.
The fretted and played, terrified
Of what they might find in crossing,
Who wouldn't be, you see?
Forever's a mighty long time.
A mighty long time, indeed.
So to comfort them, he set them up
Two by two to go.
Then watched as they crossed,
Hearts hopelessly lost-
Until they faded, far from sight.
The man looked around, proud of his deed
His friends had finally been shown.
Then started to cross, but stopped-
He had realized forever was a mighty long time-
And he was now alone.

We are all a part of this living earth
Some section of our souls survive
This intersection of questions,
Of love and life longing,
Of the mere existence of “Why?”

And yet there’s magic, though we deny
Since sight is singular and straight,
In the simple asking of questions
The who’s and why’s,
Those dreams from which we wake-

This, now, is to Wonder!
For who exactly knows why?
This, now, is to Hope!
For why else would we try?
This, now, is to Life!
For one day, we will die.
Yes, one day we will die.

One man fell, another rose.
One man gave his all.
One of them is now alone,
The other will no further fall.

Enlightened? Maybe. I feel where you're going Lady,
On these hazy, lazy days you end up trading,
thoughts for words placed on public pages.
Feelings trapped in cages, but you gotta let em out-
I know oh-too-well the way life goes,
Sometimes you just gotta put the pen to the inkwell,
And watch as your mind shows up in the inkblot,
'Cuz the colors separation brings more inspiration,
And maybe you'll learn a little more today.
Things 'bout your minds state, what happened of late,
Whether you'll get over it or want to,
maybe your interest wants you? Whether the shoe,
really fits or are you just winging it and afraid,
That people will know your true ways?
Don't get lost in Heaven chick, they got locks on the gate,
Don't get too sad either, Hell only really lasts a few days.
But all that matters, as you can see what I'm gonna do,
Is to treat each and every day, like it's New.

I like these ideas and they fill me with pleasure-
My words like lances, striking this earthly tether,
And transcending common thought, engaging the forever.

For you see, what gives me the pleasure out of poetry,
Is knowing someone has read it, and has experienced me-

They now know my thoughts, what I choose to pen.
A carefully constructed facade, in a truthful, youthful blend;
Open hearts given a start will break apart into words of art,
And all these beautiful things, will end.

However, the end doesn't mean that there won't be a beginning,
There's no falsehood in wonder, questioning isn't sinning.

Poets are the explorers, the builders with words,
They explore the condition, through adjectives and verbs-
They give chase to the worlds flights of fancy,
They are the ones who dream of romancing.

But.... why are we so often, not heard?

You know - I think the world unwell,
And it’s a sickness of the core-
Is it Heaven or Hell, have we climbed or fell,
And does anyone know whats in store?

Regarding the intermingling of rich and poor
Or those of any variant of such-
Is the deafening roar of unjust rapport,
A signal of humanity out of touch?

Or is it a simple fact that we’re stuck-
An unable collective at heart,
Out of luck and currency struck,
And unable to perceive our parts?

For there is a purpose in leaving our marks,
And in the end, all we can do is pray
That our sins go dark, the light will start
And tomorrow is another day.

You know – I think the world quite swell,
Cruel beauty is its stock and store.
Release your shell, your soul wont sell,
And I swear you are worth so much more.

Become

These are the verses of indecision-
Of being scared of what might be.
Or what might not, have we forgot
How to put faith in what we cannot see?

In trying times, we seek to be free
(From pain, from ego, from strife-)
But you can’t outrun your responsibility,
And these trials are the key to life.

So if you carry such burdens, and cry
And can’t seem to find the path you own-
Give in to the moment, end those sighs
And trust that you will be taken home.

For there is no value but what we place in stone,
You can only care if you choose to give.
If it’s not returned, what’s given wasn’t earned
Since all things end, how will you choose to live?

Maybe these are verses of  wisdom.
Yes, they speak of things that may yet be.
Give in to desire, don’t lose that fire
Trust your heart, and be set free.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
And God, I hope before I wake
That you have mercy, mercy on me
For the path that I have to take.

You see, I tried and can no longer wait
For my soul to be suddenly granted grace,
Instead, Ill create my own sovereign state
And defy the world to deny my place.

To those with no care, I will no longer give chase
For why should I sacrifice my heart?
And if given space, they’ll come face to face
With the fact that it is now that I start-

A beginning of the end, a new world apart.
A flight to the highest of skies-
A mountainous mark on the walls of the Ark,
That none but the blind would deny.

For I’m no longer a child, I am no longer weak,
And it is a lonely path I must take.
So Lord, have mercy, mercy on me
For the conquests that I will make.

If love is tied to the stars, and to fate,
to what seems to be just a fleeting dream-
Perhaps star crossed or maybe all is lost,
Will we know before the end of the scene?

Are there hints? If so, what do they mean?
What exactly, do all of these signs foretell?
Is there a theme amongst the clues, between
Half-hearted attempts at wishing well?

But on these things, we do not dwell-
Passions play should be a victimless crime.
No heaven, nor hell, nor friar, nor spell,
Could part us before our appointed time!

Can we live, with the world as our rhyme,
And as poets, play our songs to the part?
Would you be mine if I could divine
the secret melodies that lay in your heart?

So this I swear, before God, in this state-
To love you, as if this were our final scene.
And then forevermore, our love will endure
As an endless dream within our dreams.

It's windy. The cool breeze of the ocean.
It gives,, a sense of beauty, in motion.
All is flowing, rushing and tide-
And I sit in wonder, dreaming beside.

Shells line the shore, lining and lining.
The sun is above, shining and shining.
The surf will speak softly, whispering in time,
"Oh my Love, will you deign to be mine?"

So I speak to the ocean, the Mother of all.
There's no other sound but the waves rise and fall.
Crashing, rushing, babbling in tune
Echoes the evening softness, coming so soon.

Her look and countenance evinced to me
that this Lady was a lonely sunset;
Held to her fate - stifled by the thought
of static inevitability.

Sunset, can't you look, see in front of you?
Or are you blinded by your own twilight?
If you could hold on, I could show to you
That after your sad descent, is sunrise.

I hear you say, "Have to hurry down, Yeah -
Hurry down Sunset, get dark like wine, won't
see - won't find any suffering." But why?
Do you think being alone will make it fine?

There is no need for you to keep yourself
at bay; - no need to shine brilliantly
and fade away, simply because you're afraid.

So maybe, in time - we will together seek
The sun behind the clouds, on rainy days-
And thus allowed to let our minds play,
I'll show you how your star is unique.

There, lay outskirts. Through them are windmills lining
A vast expanse of amber sky, and there they are refining
A pure blue wind, tinted such within by turning steel fins.

They did, they told you. No one would walk to the end
Of the blue windmills, no one could ever mend
The heart of our world, twirled in their spinning curls.

But, you, I know you. Is what you’ve done enough now?
Has the pain gone away, will your heart unhurt somehow?
It wasn’t you, they knew. And you know it to be true.

I left. This is for you, because I want the knowing
That I’ll see you someday in the place where it’s snowing.
It’s not a lie, allied your love and mine, so this time

I do, do want to see you, walking out in the wind
I’ll wait for you by the blue windmills, made of
paper and pins.

I seek beauty in rhyme and tense,
The dreams that colors earn-
The roots of my aesthetic sense
Are things I have yet to learn.

To find a hope in reversing thoughts
Means shifting paradigms is a pleasure;
Beliefs striving, fighting and fought
With metaphor in equal measure.

Then! A trick, a shift we weather,
A path down which we fall-
And then you see, its not just me,
Somehow we end up together.

For we sought beauty with rhyme and tense;
Those dreams of they who yearn,
So in defense of aesthetic sense
To those metaphors I will return.

In the beginning, there was only you and I
Then we were apart, somehow.
We waited for ages, things over long ago
To return to each others arms.

There was searching, longing, and trust-
Issues were brought to the fore.
And then I found you there and thus
We were together again once more.

We met under a moonlit field,
Somewhere under the arc of heaven
We embraced, our restful reunion
And our pace slowed with the other.

And we lay in the field of flowers
And we lay together, now we are
Under the aurora of a tenuous fate
Against a sight of unbarred sky.

As we turn to each other our eyes
Decry a song, and play our notes
Telling the world of love that longed
Through an epoch of silent ties.

"There are tiny drops of rain, see
The clouds are crying for us too."
But you, you keep quiet and stare
The air for us/still too new.

But there's a beauty in the simple change
Of shade between light and dark.
Always together, never apart,"
She would remark,
They will shift, and they will shift,
They will choose, and chase
They will shift, and they will shift
Until Night gives way to Day."

And speaking softly -

“As they will shift, and they will shift
All these subtle sights of november skies
We will choose, and we will chase
together, do you know why?.
"Though things will shift and shift and change
And our time will forever go by,
We will choose, and we will chase
each other, You and I."

The battle waxed strong indeed
Waves of flesh torn and whipped as if ricked
Bodies lie near fallen steeds
O'er blasted ramparts and shredding thickets
The abhorrent hounds keep the track
Styx holds, nay - awaits its reservation!
Death himself lacks much tact
And souls line up in proper station
The dark takes everyones hand
The heathens tear savagely at the door!
I raise, chin quivering, but stand
As black bodies fall to the floor.
Though they take all whom am-
What they cannot take, while with breath I stand,
Is my honor.. My honor!
My Honor... As a Man!

While relaxing in an open field
Carving thoughts out of scenic jumble
I bore witness to a king of sights
And afterwords I lay there humbled.

For the briefest of moments
(Although relative, looking back it possessed no time)
I was not in a mere field anymore
And I was quite sure it wasn't my mind.

The clouds danced and swirled for display
Looping through an ever-blue sky.
And out of that beautiful, blasted way
Arrived something riding a north winds sigh.

It revealed itself, beautiful, splendid!
Towers of marble! Azure cascades!
Mountains tall, Emerald Halls,
Amber forests beside Evergreen glades!

And flying astride the floating island,
Were winged men holding spears of light!
They accompanied it, protecting the jewel,
Truly great protection for the Island of Flight!

Then while passing through a nearby mist,
The island seemed to disappear!
It caught itself in the clouds above
And the next instant the skies were clear.

There was an overlook. My car sat and I stood beside looking afar. Clouds were there, over the valley. She was gone. There were no sounds except for the wind and I  couldn’t tell where my breath started and the wind began. There were mountains on the other side, far and away, as they will say and this was reality. The Sun was behind the clouds. It started to break through the gold lined gray-blue and reach out to the valley, as light is apt to do. Is there a reason hidden in this changing of seasons? This was fall and the leaves were preparing their final stand against a fate of winter weather and whether or not they lasted, they could be assured a spot in my memory. This moment is eternal, as long as I am me this imprint will not leave and neither will she. There was a kind of comfort, but in truth I was still alone and there is no simple song for me to sing to bring back all of the things that I have lost.
              The overcast sky sent its light and its lambent gaze brought to the fore all of the things I hadn't taken notice of. There was a war here, a struggle against a some kind of fate. The leaves were violent and as the sun hit the scene I saw patches of the valley forest start to illuminate. Where the light touched- the leaves burned. They burned with bold brilliance and in that instant I saw the beauty of that fatalistic fight. I turned around. Behind me the shafts of light reached out to more and more of the valley, as if being taken in by the grasping hand of God.

The lane lays lined with wares
A tavern beckons the drunks
To the left small children stray
The baker warms the world
A cart carries fresh fruit
A maiden flashes me a look (Dare I?)
The sky is bright with shimmering light
And birds fly overhead
Light flashes and Stars melt and fall
A hill is now underfoot
Sunset is to the right, no - panoramic
Mountains line an enclosed sphere
A woman (Unknown to me)
Sits quietly by my side
Behind the mountains, darkened forms
Jagged, ominous, but comforting.
....

Is she the damsel from fantasy books?
The one who heroic hearts arc towards?
Indeed, of faerie eye and fair-lined looks
What cold savior could she be waiting for?
Some faux hero made of dreams, just like her-
From realms of common beauty with the wiles
of class-bred temper; Parted from less learned
Folk like me whom their countenance beguiles-
Although, it seems that all our breaking dreams
In this reality reforge themselves;
Imbued now with the pain of shattered hearts,
We move forward with new convictions held.
To wit; It's not that ******* hip and cool
To play the Man who loves you like a fool.

Often times I will stop and think
Of reasons, of ways to love you.
How can I show, what can I say,
So you understand that I am true?

You ask nothing, you care and give
Through troubled times, I know -
Often I wonder, if we were asunder,
Where would our lives then go?

So to this I say, together, today
I will never leave your side.
For often times, our souls will rhyme
And our poem is now my pride.

We will flow, often times we know
We will run, and build.
We will flow, we reap and sew -                                                                                                                  
And baby, there’s a spot that only you can fill.

Ill be here.
If you decide to believe in me.

All good things come to an end,
We live with lives so fleeting
We ask our questions, find our answers
As to our end of meetings

And chasing, we spiral down
A course of simple leavings
When we lose our way, we find today
As the meaning we’ve been seeking

For moment to moment, step to step
It is our path that we will follow
And though we doubt, we must believe
Happiness will be there Tomorrow.

Today I dreamt a magic word
And conjured it into being-
Then set about showing the world
That it contained some meaning.
To flustered ears, the dismal cry
Of nonsense capturing thoughts,
Breaking syntax and doubtful sighs
Unwilling to change what they'd been taught.
But they couldn't learn, had no avail
And simply couldn't comprehend
That the source of language's travail
Is what the imagination portends.

To muster up and climb the hill
And to see the stalwart top
While carrying on through force of will
Then through triumph, stop-
You'll see the mount, you'll see the stars
Cicyphus played THIS game!
Beyond the sunset lies the dark-
But before it lies the same.

So traveler, traveler!
You may give these words only a glance,
Keep your head, mind not the dread!
Darkness... Is a matter of circumstance.

To You;

To you; possessed of such a tempting grace,
moving so sublimely through star-struck space;
Can I ask of you this quiet question-
Why do those sad tears frame that flawless face?

What’s the reason for that careless lesson
that laces your well-controlled complexion?
Have you, through some finally-found fancy
been shown the harsh meaning of rejection?

Maybe, you dreamt of a light romancing
Under the moons bright, fatal faerie-fire
Its sight telling tales of your desire,
Your sad love ethereal- Transient?

No? I didn’t think that the murky mire
That we call “Love” would have you trapped today-
To make such stories of these fallen fae,
As an excuse to perform worn word-play---

Or! Maybe, it’s some other telling tale
That put you into this unjust travail-
And left you with those mislaid streaks
Across a face falling pallid and pale.

Had your plans reached the goal- that high peak,
Then plunged; wasted - leaving you worn and weak
With no way out, no truly clear choices,
No way to gain the happiness you seek?

Did you want a house with joyful voices,
A backyard echoing lilting laughter?
Has some callous event foreclosed that chapter
Filling your soul with some private poison?

No, I don’t think that’s what I‘m after.
You’re not being held by some coarse constraint-
Nor your body filled with some tragic taint
that would leave you so faltering and faint.


Do you long for adventuresome release,
Your daily work having no such surcease-
And staring entranced-so at the stratus,
You dream of those mighty in name and deed?

Those stories, the ones that you always read-
Do they make you long for that single pleasure,
Proof of beauty and things unseen, proof of need-
Proof of some fantasy beyond measure?

The sacrosanct is in those clouds so rare.
Don’t lose faith in finding the forever,
And magic is there, suspended in air
As long as you don’t consider never.

Maybe, I could help in your endeavor,
Together, a meeting of star-bright minds-
Rhyme after rhyme, perhaps we will find
A path that will meld fantasy and time.

So Lady, giving thought where it’s due then,
I can only tell you this plight of Men
And be it my damning declaration,
I will never let you be hurt again!

You will never want for stone or station,
Nor need to seek some other relation.
If the dreary dusk deigned to mar your mood,
To make a Sun, I’d master creation!

To your beauty I would always allude,
(The runic tint to those even-ether eyes)
Only to the lay does the truth not soothe –
No comparison would bespeak of lies;

So Lady, let my love for you give rise,
To the dawning of our sublunary Sun!
For you; My suitors pledge that come what come,
On my honor, my life; Thy will be done!

What would you say to me
If I told you that all things
have a name?

A name, created forever ago-
A name singular, secret and sacred-
A name that grants form?

What if I told you
that if you cried out
The Name of the Moon,

You could bathe at mid-day
under its dappled, failing shine-
playing partner to its light?

That if you called to the skies
you could surround yourself
with a span of azure infinity,

Paint sun-songs with hidden words,
Or caress cloud-worn creations while
floating in blue nothingness?

To think; You could merely utter
The Name of Oceans - That
vast implication; You could

Summon distant, breaking shores
for your own inspection and approval-
To satisfy the simplest curiosity?

Would you say it was a fantasy?
Something grand to ponder;
And then regretfully forget?

That to strum the chords of creation
with key-words and mere intentions,
Is a blasphemy?

But what if... What if
I spoke to you the Name of Love,
As soft as daylight-sighs ending?

Would you scoff at my audacity,
To arrogantly manipulate its meaning
by not letting it go free?

Or would you realize, and see-
That despite all that power, I can't find
the name for what you mean to me?