You enchanted the moon, didn't you?

Or bribed her?  Maybe you promised her a star or two?

She hunts me with Orion's bow, pacing behind shadowed cloud,

My celestial stalker ridin' low, warily wrapped in misty shroud.

She whispers stark and yet, soft as a breeze on an April afternoon,

Press on now, my pet.  You've done so well, we'll sleep again soon,

But we've a fortnight to go if we're to come full circle by month's end.

So many dreams still to sow... To reap those lupine howls once again.

She waxes and I wane, she mystifies with madness then soothes me sane.

Serenity to insanity, delirious depravity to moon-magicked majesty,

A cosmic clockwork cycle muddling my mind with lunar gravity.

She pushes me to righteous malice and pulls me to solstice solace,

She masters tides in her caprice, what hope has a malcontent apprentice?

I remember learning about Japanese culture in elementary school.

They taught us to say a few words, told us some Japanese stories, we learned how to fold Origami, and we got to try sushi and some Japanese candies.  

It was one of those cultural-week things.  It was cool.

Anyway, I remember at one point the teacher was telling us how every inflection matters when speaking Japanese, and that saying a word with the wrong inflection can turn it into a great insult.  

I remember thinking, "Wow, it must be really hard to speak Japanese."

Only now, when I'm almost 45 years old, do I realize it is literally no easier to speak American English or any language for that matter.

Every inflection counts, every word counts.  There are uncountable ways to insult someone, and indeed to be insulted, and the path to speaking (or writing) without unwittingly tossing out insults like candy (don't throw sushi, it's very messy) is a narrow one.

This is especially true when writing about something painful.  I try (but probably still fail) to be sure when I write I [attempt to] take that into account.

So, anyway. I just wanted to say, that if I have said something to offend you, such was not my intention.

Just sayin, y'all be careful with that thur 'Murican English, it's loaded!

Song of love, twisted by welling darkness.

Vengeful art, practiced with vicious subtlety.

The softest lips whispered the hardest lies.

She exhaled an evocation of ethereal dreams,

Whose only prophecy was eternal sorrow.

Let nostalgia and what-ifs,
Should-of, would-of, and could-of,
Be no longer curses, but gifts,
Not the pain of loss, but the memory of love.

Let the years seem kind in their passing,
Let me revel not in the present but celebrate in giving,
In helping, in loving, in laughing,
Not just one closer to death but another year of living.

Let these words ease angst,
And soothe long-suffering sorrow,
Let the past be wreathed in lights, not pains,
Not days passed but another chance at tomorrow.

Today I've decided I've outgrown these tears,
I'm yet younger than the mirrors wrinkled clues,
So here's wishing you all the best of my years,
With a wink of these birthday blues.

Cord our arms with steel
Bolster our hearts with fire
Fill our minds with light
Drag the veil from our eyes

We have endurance and strength to fight
We have mercy and we have passion
May we learn the wisdom to choose what's right
May our eyes weigh, measure, and ration

Call it hope, poem, spell, or prayer
May it be a boon for those that care
To rise and challenge, to stand against
Control by precedent and ******* by consequence

I take a whole week to celebrate my birthday,

Just to make sure I don't sweep it under the rug.

And I've worn a mask what feels like my whole life,

But October is, by far, my least favorite holiday.

The plains-stretched sky soars sullenly,
Graceless sans hills, lonely less trees.
Starkly exposed tending swept-grass streams,
With naught but sparse clouds to mask modesty.

Let me glimpse the sky peaking playfully behind arboreal eaves,
Branches breaking blue monotony with autumn-bright leaves.
Show me a valley mid-winter-doze, cozy between mountains steep,
Sleepy sun-shadows shifting on snow as the sky climbs for her peek.

If I were to tell me
My much younger me
That I'd be a druggy
Well, I'd probably believe
If I were then able to see
This handful of boring
Well, I'd think I was crazy

I curse like a drunken sailor with a stubbed toe and an eye full of Tabasco.

Ah shiny approval,

Warm and soothing on the skin,

Absorbed like a lizard,

When one is hypervigilant.

A garden trowel in a patch of irradiated weeds

An odometer in an endless maze of MickeyD's

An encyclopedia in a pawn shop full of tweakers

A love song on a boombox with broken speakers

May I present several examples of useless things with nothing to do

Now if you think those're bad, you should see what I'm like...

I got this idea I would write you a poem,
One you could read sitting safely at home,
Or keep with you out and about while you roam.

A poem about all of the memories I held sacred,
Laughing, singing, kissing, and cuddling in bed,
One to remind you our time wasn't wasted.

So I laced up my heart and I shrugged on my soul,
I popped open my noggin and I went for a stroll,
Right down Memory Lane and left at the Rabbit Hole.

I kept on goin' 'til I hit a velvet rope with posts of brass,
But I musta gotten too close to the bulletproof glass,
Cause a big grumpy guard threw me out on my...

I realized, still rolling, it's all one massive museum,
Motionless memories mummified so I can keep 'em,
Lined up and locked away, as if they could be stolen.

Arduously ordered, organized for instant access,
A mental palace fit to make even Sherlock jealous,
That Dewey Decimal dude don't got nothin' on this.

The slide shows replay every minute on the minute,
Time-compressed and Tetrised-in so each moment fits,
Bio-digitally encoded on neurode and inked onto skin.

Tear-rusty gears grind waterlogged cogs in reverse,
This melancholy machine made to reflect you in verse,
Is a planetarium perpetually projecting my universe.

Caution: Objects in poems are deeper than they appear.

The more shallow it looks, the deeper it is.

Please wear your life vest at all times,

And may we take this moment to highly recommend the buddy system?

We happen to have one available if you are unable to locate a buddy.  😊

The most fun I ever had
Was making you laugh

When one's life has hit rock bottom
At the ripe old age of nineteen
When the apple of life has gone rotten
And hopeful plans wither to faded dreams

When one's confidence is shot
And one's hope has slowly waned
When one's faith in love is all but lost
And one's self-esteem's been drained

When one's spent their life to overcome
The pain of losing their one true one
When one's reached out to touch only ice
To be judged and rejected once, twice, thrice

When one's messages are deleted unread
And pictures cannot fill the hole in one's heart
When the only chance to hear your voice is in one's head
One begins the onerous process of falling apart

When healing has begun and the dull throb doesn't beat one jaded
When the sunlight breaks the clouds for the first time in dark ages
When the black hole ***** a little less and the stars aren't so faded
One will still be here waiting to hear an answer sought by fools and sages

Expecting my hands to be soft,

Is understandable,

Not seeing the scars there,

That's classic.

Though my heart was dead long ago,

This ******,

Through my chest,

It is as the first.

Though I knew long ago,

The break of trust,

Denies me rest,

Heart smoldering, mind cursed.

I was never sure if she was
locked away in a tower somewhere

Or if she was the dungeon master
and I was the one on the rack

There're always consequences for you,

But when you really love someone,

You'll make consequences for them too.

Love is bitter from age and neglect
Chains to bear breaking my back
Eyes deceive, thoughts betray
Tongues lie, souls decay
Words, like fire, torture and burn
Fire is soothing, pain must be earned
Ears distrust like lifeblood flows
Time is unending, destructive, and slow

For someone like me
being told you're getting
exactly what you've always wanted
is like being told that you have
24 hours to live.

Because nothing I've ever wanted
really, actually, down-deep wanted
has ever worked out.

The more important something was,
the more ****** up the eventual outcome.

This self-fulfilling prophecy has been
more reliable than any family
member, friend, or lover has ever been.

It's never let me down.

Ya know...

If that most famous pair of star-crossed lovers had only possessed cell phones,

Things might have gone much differently.

Be careful
I forgot to mention
my heart
is proximity-activated

At least
If you're holding
A beer
You can blame
The beer
By asking someone
To hold said beer
While you do something insanely stupid.

There's something amiss in my desperate laugh,
A misty, wistful wish, an algid disparate draft,
Finest thread of dread winding its way throughout,
Vines, verdant, spread, binding my hope to doubt,
Booming drum shaking foundations made of sand,
Tinkling of breaking glass creations out of hand,
Spilling out and over, released lest the dam burst,
Consuming as if lover, heedless of best-verse-worst,
Best nightmares, worst dreams, in the end, it's all the same,
Unheard cares and thoughts mean, play the grandest games.

Pooky,

I love you
I miss you
I want you
I need you

You are every hope
You are every dream
You are my only wish

Ice blue chilly
Shadow dark
Trapped in memory
Entropically stark
Struck by epiphany
Zeptoseconds for a quark
A self-fulfilling prophecy
Bitten by its bark

They'll tell you how beautiful are your wings,

While they bind your pinions and strip your feathers.

"So graceful and so precious!  Such lofty, ethereal things,"

The words like rusty chains, cracked leather-sentiment tethers.

They'll tell you, "Rise above the sorrow, fly from the pain,"

After they teach you to clip your own wings so you won't fall,

And when the confusion sets in they'll be the first to tell you you're sane.

"People can't fly," they'll say, and point to the wings nailed to their wall.

Religion watered lies with cultivated fears
Pure liquid guilt methodically poured down ****** ears
Harnessed young thoughts to grim shadowed years
Harvested dumb belief in blood, sweat, and tears

Constant torture over the soul's fate
Hideously murdered that innocent state
Contrivances uttered with no trace of hate
Whose venoms still stain now balding pate

Taught to fear what we fail to understand
The devil himself possessed the idlest hand
Preferring instead to let us hang ourselves
Ironclad morals dragging us down to our hells

pocket puppet
people in power
hands in pants
razing the tower
climbing thoughts
clinging ivy
emotions a-twitter
prey for thee
my country
'tis of these

In the story, Samson is said to lose his power when his hair is cut, breaking his vow.

I think he was wrong about his hair, and the actual source of his power was his love.

I think he lost his power the moment he realized Delilah had betrayed him.

Not when she betrayed him, nor when she cut his hair, but only once he realized what she had done, see?

So at the end of the story, when Samson gets his strength back, it happens not because he grows his hair, but because he forgives Delilah.

His hair was only a metaphor for his faith (in God, love, women, and Delilah in particular)...

Anyway, I'm growing my hair out.

🐭🧀

I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,

                                                        ­      I am a little lever,
                                                    by wightish weight released.

                                                                     I am the
                                                          daring
                                             domino,

         Tip me over and off I go,

Tapping-time-toppling
                                        just as mapped,

                                                       Chain reactions
                                                                ­               crashing
                                                                ­                          choreographed.

                                                 ­               I am the ball bearing on its
                                                                ­                                     tilted track,

                                                         ­            Precariously poised
                                                                ­    awaiting that last flat

                                                               ­               CRACK!

                                                       ­    Startling astart at starting gun,

Gravity-well-willing I wobbly-spin-roll-run,

                                          ­                Back and forth I wander like a top,

Dizzily confused when off the end I
                                                                ­     plop.

                                                  It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,

This cup was here to catch me...              luckily.

                                                  Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,

                                      Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.

                              It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,

                                  Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.

                                  Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,

                         I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,

               Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)

        Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.

Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,

      I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:

                I'm also the water cascading through air,

                                                           ­   Splashing happily,
                                                        but predictably,
                                                   to be fair.

                            Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,

Releasing the cage, design-demanding.

                      Mouse
                       lever
                     domino
                        ball
                        cup
 ­                      robot
                      water
                       cage

I might even be the little mouses tiny outrage.

It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,

Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:

We seem to be missing one of the architects.

Don't have her eyes O' Lord
Bear the eyes of a devil before hers
Better even to stare with dead eyes
Let it be neutral, your saving gaze

You are the reason I fell in love with the light.

You are the reason I sought a way out of the darkness.

You are the reason I stayed.

We were in love, successful, and happy,
We had a graphic novel series and a hit CD.

We did everything together, I stood tall beside her,
Then some insecure scientist turned on their LARGE particle collider.

Right was blue, and light was square, and time was east,
Now she's married to another man, and I got no teef!

I'll never see it's like again;
The springtime coming to life
In my grandmothers back yard,
The birds singing, insects humming,
Sun dappled camouflage on the pond.
One mid-morning, mid-mourning,
Dreaming of love lost,
Hoping for hope.
It's funny, how young love is like childhood,
Gone before you truly value it,
Only cherished after the fact.
Only, cherish that fact,
Value it, before it's gone.
Humor your heart, like a child,
Hope for hope,
Dream of love!
And some mid-morning, quit mourning,
Let your camouflage fall, feel the sun,
Let the birdsong bring you back
To the wonder of childhood!
Love the autumn of life,
You'll never feel it's like again.

I know, ultimately, it's true what they said,
That when it all comes down, we make our own beds,
Now we're adults, let's mess up the covers by jumping like kids,
I know we've a long way to go, but there's a life to be lived!

It's a lot closer than you think
eternity
pick any particle, molecule, atom
my love for you
it's there

Dear Rapture,

It's been so many years, I'm so sorry to intrude,
I've so many things to say, but I've no desire to be rude,
I've tried to keep me locked away, during our long interlude,
I guess I've done okay, but so much has happened, and it isn't all good.

How are you?  I hope things are well.  I think about you, you know.
What've you been up to? Do tell! I haven't heard a word since so long ago.
I don't want to renew a war, but I had to either reach out or explode,
Tact's gone right out the door, for hope our hearts had adjacent zip codes.

What ever happened to you, what did you think, I wonder constantly,
You said give you space, or was it time, or was it just a slow-burn for me?
I always gave you the benefit of the doubt, but I just don't know lately...
I toss and turn, this garden bed feels like a grave, forgotten and buried.

The distance between us is further than any airline has ever been,
I'm sure that, like me, you've felt it growing since our relationships end.
I know we both hurt, we lost so many truths in all the confusion,
And I feel like the biggest loser of all because I lost my best friend.

If I sent this letter off, tear-stained and folded into a paper plane,
If it prevailed on the Trade Wind and soared away to your windowpane,
If it tapped ever-so-lightly, would you let it in or would you refrain?
Would you turn it away, unread, to dissolve in the Cascadian rain?

Maybe I'm hoping beyond hope, a delusional version of Lion-O's sight,
I just had to try one last time before we drift off into that long goodnight,
Though I go not gently, I'm no devil and I've no desire to cause a fright,
But hell, I'd wrestle all the angels in heaven if it was a question of might.

Well, I guess there's nothing I can do but fold it up and throw it hard,
Try not to shed a rogue tear when the movie gets to that part,
And whenever the clock says 2:22, 3:38, or 11:11, I'll wish on a star,
Truly, I just want you to know I care. I love you.

From,
Afar

I love reading.  My favorites are fantasy novels.

When I was in middle school and first starting to grasp the idea that one could read for fun --gross right?-- I read an awesome series called The Dragonriders of Pern, by Anne McCaffrey.

Man, what an amazing series for a young reader (soon to be aspiring writer, thank you Anne McCaffrey) to cut their teeth on.
It is intelligently and imaginatively written, adventurous, suspenseful, emotional, and like duh, it's got people riding dragons!

Well anyway, in the very first book one of the main characters is being attacked by an extremely large beast called a watch weyr, a genetic cousin of dragons bred for guarding castles.

At the very last instant, as the beast is pouncing upon our hero, the watch weyr realizes its intended target is actually one of the very people it was bred to protect.

In a desperate attempt to fling itself aside and spare the life of our hero, the watch weyr snaps its own spine, killing itself.

Now, this is no dog, it's a descendant of dragons, intelligent, sentient, and centuries-old.  That killed itself to avoid hurting someone it didn't even know.  Without a second thought.

Sometimes, not always or even most of the time, mind you, but sometimes...

I wish I had never read that book.

Sullenly, I quote whilst I quaff

Softly stammered surcease of wroth

Consummately ****** I sputter and cough

Sloshed ale sloppily sopped

Spite shed, soft shadows soughed

Soggily satiated at brimful trough