your words,
they were soft,

so I believed in them,
I became engulfed by them.

your kindness brushed against my feet.

so I craved it,

this world you had created.

your heart seemed just a little torn,
it was quiet and unknown.

Im found but im fogotten
Im lost and unremembered
Here i come
And there i go
My soul unrelenting
Where should i find hope

weightless we are,
fallen of birds,
breadths within soft palms;

our spiritless flesh,
once crowned,
monarchs over the heavens;

fed from the golden spoon,
bathed in pearled beds,
clothed by spoils of war,
and that, not our own;

in dust we reign,
like withering pedals,
the wind reaps our treasures;

"oh, how the mighty have fallen"

where then is our hope ;

through the sidewalks
they all gather round
only lurking

should I speak in publicity's turf
indeed my tongue would suffer its bravery

shoulder softly sways
crossing paths along another
a hats tilt their only response

one hand dangling before them
like serpents oh so welcoming
one hand posing behind them
withering with devotion to hypocrisy

they do not posses ears to listen
they do not desire eyes to see

so I write about them
with these soundless words

a leaf sways down the strings,
gently it is comforted,
a small pushy laugh it gives;

I picked up a little more,
this leaf, designed to convince me,
it was a performance so kind,
I'm not going home feeling empty;

sometimes it takes me,
not just the right side of course;
I'm sorry for writing this poem,
my only freedom of movement;

the truth about the last page is happiness,

I've been here since you
were in my pocket,
I have a thousand words of wisdom,
they'll probably just go with you;

spiraling down like cannons,
all the time I love you,
the start and end of musical instruments,
blasting away the street view of space;

as confused birds clothe the sky,
this leaf breaks down,
like confetti, my confidence falls;

still, gently it is comforted;

art of my life,
I'm at my place by the waters,
ripple through the truth,
bring it up to the street;

a little while more,
and we'll all be set free...

upon my mornings wake,
I presented myself before the mirror,
a ponderous though befell me;

" I was once a prettier flower "

so I  summoned the councils,
ordered myself bathed,
in rich milk and fine honey,
as did those of old glorious days,

once again,
I presented myself to the mirror;
a ponderous thought befell me;

" I was once a healthier flower "

so I summoned the councils,
ordered them to make me well,
exotic formulations they did bring,
as did the science of nature; well-known,

the mirror presented itself before me,
a ponderous truth befell me;

" I was once a happier flower "

there are many
      ways and plenty
of days through out time
in life;

I have walked about
       lived through many droughts
only to see misery all around
me, its a mystery,

after all this suffering,

that conspicuous flower, it does indeed blossom,

I stand at the end of my road,
yet I dare say,
this is my beginning..

in a once quiet thought
my lips trembled,
tongue frozen still;

along the lined horizon I glanced,
missing the beauty,
I have seen the emptiness;

silently they whisper,
deception their embedded kiss,
sitting, I waited
while they walked;

bleak winters I have known;

your essence, filled my palms;
spilling onto the canvassing world,
you drew me a picture;

untainted reality,

taught my finger tips to sway,
from left to right,
my curiosity now eclipsed by this,
gift;

showed my hand to paint,
with such precautions,
being g very careful to color
outside the lines of *******,

clothed my nakedness,
the warmth of your radiances,

burned my voice into solid letters,
molding them into words,
you gave them their voice;
like glowing embers;

thank you...

Writing* it is easy,
  Saying it terrifies me,

If anyone but reads it,
Means I'll never have to tell you,
Whats really on my mind,

Because if you dont like
What I have yo say,
All you have to do
Is turn the page,

And I can always pretend,
Its not about you...

silencio...
surrounded by her surroundings,
a broaden plane covers the
terrain,
beneath her feet;

a soundless voice hovers
over her,
filling the void
within her
chest;

deserted, blistered and chapped;
surfacing,
from her once tender lips
surface,
her essence made manifest;

embodied in colour,
her crimson pedals,
tip over and tobble like drippleting pebbles,
i ever, study and attempt to endeavor,

her infamous mystery,
that melodious...
symphony,

she whispers
a soft cry,

burrowed in silencio,
she vowed never to let it go; her melody,
dispensed quite gently,
floating along
stream,

accidentally,
it broke out of,
her heart beat's sonata

....

held in place by hands of copper,
faintly the whispers
tell of their darkened days,

left upon a ledge, stripped of a glory once remembered
           alone they sit,
hearts hanging from a cleft,

Many shallow nights
Ever seem to pass before me,
Abandoned begging these iron fingers to release me;

Sleek is the moss which surrounds this prison; my only home,
             yearnings of pain,
Rippling through this brick wall,

As emerald stones cover this chest,
Eternity clothes my nakedness
Like embers from stars which sit upon the heavens
This soul will shine brighter still,

Embraced
With beauty arrayed in splendor,

Like the center core;
          Slowly pulling to itself
A wondering mystery,

Gentle whispers tell of their darkened days,
          Still they remain
Held By hands of copper...

....

slow the wind dost blow,
a sadder light hath the morrow
brought for me;

colour of crimson fire breeches
over the expanse,
a boiling sphere;
the embodiment of wrath,

beauteous is her sky,
as the lips of the days light
kiss the darkened lips of night;

cold, forgotten is her cornerstone;
the reflection of her soul,
rested upon the heavens, it sits,

              Solar Flares

                      &

             Moon Beams

Oh, this forbidden love, I dare to breath in!

bristles tender bristles,
birth a soft touch beneath my fingers,
like that of a fine silk brush,

driven to a blissful land,
walking upon this field of grass so simple, it driveth the painter mad,

t's the break of dawn
which begets the fall of night,
this equilibrium stop; its twilight,

the moment draws ever nigh,
whence the heart of Colour shall rest within the Soul of her reflection
once more...

Do you see her
oh skies,

..where ever she may be,
these blessed fingers; hold fast,
swiftly they bring my curse;

once cherishing they're touch,
here they rip your heart from afar..

they run through your hair,
you've no need for a brush,
they divert your attention,

the moonlight used to
bring me news of
your brilliant reflections,

distance has loosened my grip

now im left to look above,
clouds....
darkness their covering;

i am all but left to play charades...

(...I wait for those darks clouds to one day turn white again...)



....

this is the day
it is today
the day that the Lord
has made
and it was called sunday.

the days dawn rises to meet me
yesterdays pain is gone
perhaps this day i could be happy
a foolish dream
but I'm stuck in reality.