Ever catch eyes with yours? Between you,
A glimpse becomes a gaze, and you both
Hold it so long that the iris sparkle
Paints your days and your hellish nights.

Ever come down upon those restless nights?
Memories become the difference between
What was and what could be. Those eyes,
Those met on an Autumn day, they are dreams
Of grief for that moment lost. Dreams
Not empty, but snuffed out,
Remnants of a fervent glare long gone.

Tossed and shorn is the past where we fall,
Fall in love. Wild and windswept is the rut
Where we're headed. The caught and glimpsed
I remember drunkenly. The hopes and
Dreams flit in never ending horror.
Nothing can be grasped or held,
Except those eyes,
Their gaze locked with mine.

The glass pane reflects
That soft glint of a lost love,
Yet never reveals it clear:
Rather sharp, broken, as if
Shattered by your heart's recede,
And glaring with cracks and corners
The sun's beams in blinding light.
Those memories, that glass pane,
Their presence disturbs you, yet
To lose your opaque, shattered window
Is to lose that happy sight into
The open spaces of your heart.
Do not replace that window. Let it
Bore its presence, but build a new one,
And be more careful.

You must get close to the king
And kneel to his whim
So you can slash at his legs.
After you kiss his feet, make his bed
While the hoards amass,
You hide under his nightmares
And emerge to tear his insides out.
You must bow to the Beast
To end his tyranny and oppression
And for the sake of the weak
Crusade against the strong.
Topple the pillars and dethrone
The master, just so you can
Build your own palace, usurp his seat,
****** your own people,
And eat your own flesh
While you wait like him.

Would a child from a swing in play
Jump wildly, wing tossed through the day,
To be lost in sand and find a love
For wordplay?

The world is my oyster, and
I am the pearl within it, though
I am sure of the white hard
Diamonds strewn alongside me
That share the view of our
Dotted night sky, that reflect
The prophecy of a new dawn, and
An utter mass of plodding light
Warmth, but cold amongst a lost
Night sky.

A day's light in morning asked of me,
Took the dense hole, wished for
Some, from my whispering grasp
And thawed it glinting in the sky
Liquid, sugar, to fall between
The fingers grasped my emotion
****** soaked with midnight desire seen
Sweet smelling of hallucinations,
Well wishers, and shysters of the
Sticky night before. I told him, I said:
"Went gone my mother, before me
I lived a life and I lay on my deathbed,
Frightened of the days I lost
And the love I could not remember."
I looked to my life's gut and implored
Him: "Your hands cradle what with
All I could accomplish, and not,
All I could ask, all I can't know,
Return my consciousness, I ask,
Return what I had before my
Drift into the sea, cast rejected,
And lost in a nightmare."
The morning nodded, shook my
Greasy sweat tinged hands, me awake,
And fell away distant to the horizon beyond
To become just a rising glint in my eye
A lightly pierced sky appearing before me.

We ran low on grass and leaves
Yes, to eat and lose our brains.
We are sculptors, the artists
Who mold minds beholden
To dried tubers, leftover from
The smithy winter, gnawed
Treadsweet atop a hike of
Lowdown proportions,
Seen with an upturned glance,
Where atop their mountainrange
A light pinkpurple sky waning orange
To ******* heights greeting with despair
And thrusting up a torch to the air
With idyllic and winsome divine,
An event, this epic and christening,
Illustrated to every relief and contour
By a prompted member of our party,
A respectable integral to the species,
To roar behind with vigor and flatulence
And such stench to twist the nose,
Laughing in his hand chocolate,
Warning of the flags raised in the distance.
A moment of premonitory silence.

Melancholy absolutes me, bringing me to be
Inattentive to all the good and wrong
Nothing can triumph the shade
That comes with
Satisfyingly dissatisfied of all that people give
Disgusted by the normalcy, but unsurprised by it
Because I am melancholy
At its mercy, I exist
To expect what is expected to be unexpected
For I am a divergence, a different stream
A grin to the cries, my grin a cry in response
A softly bowed smile to match the slightly skewed world
Melancholy is knowing what is to come
Sadly accepting because it must be accepted, sadly
And said
A scene without a setting
And a beat without a heart,
There is but one resolution
To find a passion, bring it to execution.

Life is precious.

'bbbrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmm' an elevator rumbling a man inside up high a cable holding grinding rope steel shake shake so close inside a cell a man he's tortured too high he's claustrophobic too shiny in the box and the noise oh the noise shake shake it reminds him of late night tv shows and of syringes ashy smoke and of the faint breeze of a childhood quick to pass he finds himself older and now paranoid and sad high in a box grinding rope steel shake shake you box his daughter asked him 'why do you tremble when we watch movies?' bright and loud they scared him as does this cell something haunts him memory of the past it haunts him he has something to shy from as do you too

I look at you like a moon gazing down on the world, with
Love, her rays a lunar kiss on all of us, and
You bathing in her gift, as I shower my gaze on yours.

A resounding response to the crack below my feet was heard through the forest
The ice had broken under the weight of my foot
And I froze holding myself still as I stared at the wood

Wondering, "Where did that come from?" whispering
"Not an echo! there must be something within the trees
A light breeze could not displease the silence of that looming dark!"

I approached the trees, each a veil, bark by bark, forming
A shade to intimidate the night, lining the freedom of that frozen lake
With fear to cut through any heart, as I approach the trees

The edge, waiting for me, towering grim, counting the steps
Accusing, suspecting of my intent, and I fearing what will come
I draw towards the end, and it paints my heart a deeper black,

"Every end a means!" they say, their leaves a darker hue, all a shade,
The sky only murkier, blot fainted stars bleeding to shine on my icier day
Cold, my fingers, scared, my feet, moving forward, they ask for more

More! for passion! for the call! the trees, in unison, they call!
Quiet, they crack through the Winternight, claiming
"Yes! still alive!"

Finally! my foot strikes the lucid gray snow! and I meet my end

But, "Every means an end!" and the life that colors around me
reflects the sun,
bright and vivid,
a shining presence
encompassing my own

And, as the world of the human mind's intent frenzies, no relent,
still, to see the bird
teaching her next
to swirl through the air
is to see the gem amongst us

I have met my end, my journey is done,
I die here now, but I have seen the world,
I have taken it my own, and it has killed me

"Was it worth it?" I ask the trees, now silent somber black around.

i was called heavy, i am.
like the night when it falls
and a body off the gallows pole.

fly where its warm like a bird.

I’m just ready to fall over
To find myself in a shade of lost
So tired, melt into what nothing is
And reel in my fate

I can’t though, my death,
My greatest compromise
My bleeding heart, one that bleeds for all,
Raze and tear, my heart
Die and whither as you always have
And always will

But for now, just rest
Yearn for that peace,
But settle for living in a restlessness
Called rest
Just a slower pace
Slower, but always going
Until it stops

Until a wave of all I’ve ever hoped for
Comes to wash my experiences my thoughts
Just for some peace

You sleep when you don’t love
I love a lot

I nothing know, but that only I to know.
Remote of all the turns the world it whirls.
I, prejudice secure, and yet outgrow,
For none I know remorse, but laugh absurd.
Preserve my afterthought before I wait:
A mind is forward by the past but weak.
While pure, it burns aflame, quick trait.
Not to forget, severe, to learn, not meek,
But learned, what will, does good improvement real,
Remembered thoughts advise us still the best
When merged of hope today, and proper seal:
One that is educated, rigor stressed.
I shall regard this post I call my life
As best a fool knowing blind the strife.

How is our youth meant to be understood?
A haze of moonlit past remembrance thought?
For what is past but a thought as wood
As we all think, but truth remains unbrought.
While past will stay the same, not so for us.
Detail celled to attention as bemused
Retiring now with soft eyes and no fuss
And lost is the initiation used.
Enjoy your world as you used to enjoy,
Flow with your people, and rebel to naught,
For what is unity but our employ?
So cast your ebbing lot, recede your thought,
Along with youthful bearing, to complete
The goal that single lot can set to seat.

A dark dark blue overcomes gazing sight,
As a blue, tinge of black, blanket covering you,
Concealing all that's real, and it defeats all light,
To fend the soap of your skin,
And to blight the harmless lively solar sight.

It comes softly, the night,
A bitter cold to make things sweet,
The blue muddies deeper and deeper black,
It is overtaken by shade,
And makes all things dim in midnight gloom.

The fade comforts you though,
Relieving senses, melting worries, soothing temper,
And challenging thoughts edged in
A deep and mournful life:
A heretic, monster, evil to the world.

But lives, as yours, were
Just ***** grains of sand changed to glass
Neglected, and gone to last.
You'll never know the dark
As it has when it made you then: happy.

So please, take a step,
Make a move and love the darker hue,
Relax as the dark does for you,
Worry for the worried, but not your own,
That is for me and the dark to do.

Leaf in the white soft snow,
Covered in cold, hiding from me,
So brittle and told to be gone by your tree
And now you lay here poking out to see.

When the sea seems to rise
And the boat seems to sink
Remember that the captain
Will be back soon.
Eventually.
And when the sun seems to fall
Remember the sunset
And the stars to follow,
The same to come
Tomorrow.

In certain minds
There is a love confined
For only joy
And sights to see,
Amusing friends
And plans to be,
But I am caught
And tangled taut
To pay a priceless fee.

We want much more.
A simple scour within
To find that wrecked
And torn, that screaming
Heart of darkness.
We lay it out
To eat or smoke,
To stab or stress,
And so we love
What that can do
To damage us.

"What?" question asked,
"Why must you continue?
A curious thing,
That.
How can you love
What you hate?"

Nothing explains
The strength of holes.
The ones we dig
To love ourselves.
We'll never be
What our dreams
Had always wanted,
But I guess we'll have to settle
For a little
Satisfaction.

Had I ever thought that I could
Be this way?
To be torn by ever loss and fails.
A willing kind of hit
Across my face.
Only ever to make sure
That I'll always be
The last one in the race.

So to make sure that I'll keep ahead
I will take my stares
To another place,
Where blank walls will be read
And I can move at my pace,
Where all directions are gone
And only I to die instead
With something inside
But not a love confined.

I, sitting on my porch, all world around
The drop upon the roof, such damping air,
The plop from the metal falls to the ground.
Magnificent such sight fills with despair
When white electric strike, silenced fury,
A rumble loud so fills my ringing ears.
Above all, evergreen that stood as jury,
A misty sky, lighted and looks, appears,
To sight, but dark arrives too hard.
The pattering is strong and now comes bleak.
The wind, so sharp and crisp, has played a card,
And bends the stem, the leaf, and blows to creak.
I smell old air, fat crickets far do hum.
Oh yes, this will not stay, the cold will come.

Have you been able to see as I do?
To take a step, remove and separate
From past and march with sun in view
And forth to darling future loving date.
For if we see as each of us all feel,
And know that within we are all alone,
We learn that scrutiny is harm, a deal
Our blissful lives, our peace, will not condone.
The purpose to make things best and calm
Is only natural to life, the bright
Sweet jewel in that ivory hard palm,
For life is soft, but an amazing light.
As long as I follow nature's example
I find my peace and happiness ample.

Short spring, how do I long for you to stay!
Gone quick to yield the dead so far in year.
First bird in song, for love it sings relay,
For you I hear, I ask you soothe my ear.
Young life, your time returns, begins anew,
Impress the world, expectations exceed,
Your shivers absent, vibrancy is due,
Only you to attend my eye I plead.
I dread the leaf of falling, swaying as waves,
Careening side to side as ground caress
And cold receives the life that leaf it saves
To dry against unnatural brisk mess.
For I do know and do rejoice your turn,
It will be bringing more: worry sojourn.

The good of fall is that there are no pests,
But only air and bare trees to provide.
For needs my eyes are satisfied
By none but summer sun high crests.
The leaves are spinning softly, thrown,
As would the life that once was strong:
It fell from high to low and now is dirt,
The dirt which now is cold and hard and wrong.
But I assume that there, within nothing,
Is reason, purpose, for my world to change.
I'm sure that spring will come, to bang and ring,
A declaration loud with birds to range.
Until then, time will turn, to woe and woe,
But spring I look as my content is low.

I hope that when I die there is no dark,
But rather comfort starry night provide.
For all convictions sway when stars all mark,
All light, all sing, for world to please the tide.
Explode, react, and fade before my eyes,
To all entreat the same, to none my pain.
I fake forgiving cheer, accrue your demise,
but shine no more and only witness strain.
World away, consider my overture,
The somber plea: ignorance, asked for yours.
Allow me to enjoy what I know sure:
At fear, the brink, I'm glad it soars.
For what is worry but prepared for death?
As long as stars are there, I draw my breath.

Beyond a soil so old that serves a tomb,
And streams that run so sweet to flourish blue,
Next a wilderness loving like the womb,
There grows a tree, old patron solid true.
He loves his children much with winding root,
The charming birds band, number on him much.
Old witness pays his dues and reaps of fruit,
But is he always good to love and touch?
He withers like all things so good, he must.
His branches spread, so high and dry they die,
Wind brisk through his leaves fly, and so they rust,
As all the forest, all the sadness cry.
He stands, but dead, as all his children strong
Await upon his wake to look so long.

For past who can recall, or done undo?
To live, today, such life at summer height,
Reflects one who knows passed transgress and rue:
A sin to those, and us, themselves who slight.
As life reels on without any kind thought,
And foaming edges wide recede as life goes on,
Our people pass, the happy wind they brought,
When in reflection, days of halcyon
Beseeming only false as sad but glad,
For lives there should be none like your regret,
Our time is only wasted, chances had,
When left without success, unpaid our debt,
For if we are to nature contribute,
Ourselves and ours we must love distribute.