Tinkerbell,
You should claim your love,
Your dust uplifts the imaginative,
Fancying the image your Pixie holds.
A tiny ring held your winged image,
I received the token from a dwarf,
Whom greedily devoured its bearer.
I washed clean its sweet carnage,
With your bare left hand in mind,
But when I placed the jest upon it,
The wedded finger held its ground,
An invisible band lay midst its place.
The pink blood on your cheeks spoke,
An enchantment had been yet laid,
The incantations of mine too late,
Replied the rosy blood on my cheeks.
We smiled in the twilight hence,
Reflecting the muted gore,
Shying from its shove.
You should claim your love,
Tinkerbell.

I have done it,
brought myself to pass over.
I bleed farewell to my lover,
she has hated seeing signs,
but best she begin benign
and untold untruth undone,
her life relieved and vows unsown,
I reset,

I have done it,
ended the line of my inherited sin,
the trials and trips my parents did begin,
the one and only son they did depend,
my blood spills forth funneled as the pen,
bad blood bleeds first from within,
not to forget.

I have done it,
grip on your world is fading,
I say farewell to my home to trappings
of this past and mortal beating,
I smile at my release of things,
of being unleashed from the peelings,
do not fret.

I have done it,
my fiendish brain is shot
on the blue starry wall and blots
on this read and written page,
let go of ego and thoughts
and again forever not
spin the vile traitorous plots,
nor burn fires of lecher’s knavish fraught,
no regrets.

I have done it,
new eyes cast over the old shell
rise from the ashes of a living hell,
blood dries whence did well,
winds scatter bones to sail,
I feel the light call my fast reveille,
my fire is set.

I have done it,
our world before me set right,
torch within me shines the light
new fire, new blood burns with might
of death’s refresh that hath smite
the depressed, and risen the phoenix bright,
  to reincarnate.

Courtney,
The name
doesn’t seem like enough
to describe the wondrous hope
stirred in cold coals
of fire long since burned.
You were gliding
off the storm that tossed you
and shaped you.
You smelled singed
by the clashes of shock
in the maelstrom.
You were sodden with the sub-lucid fumes
of unfettered pleasure,
and thus you plunged
out of the vortex
into my cold hearth.
Since I breathed
that first wisp of you
into me,
I am
forever changed.
  My smothering black skin bleeds
away into the sky,
chased into the night
by the dance of stars’
returned to this world of men.

Black swirls cut
like sprites
away from the breath upon me,
and the forgotten embers
presumed quenched
smolder with orange joy and pure white,
yawning broad with warmth
from beneath their dark slumbers.
They stretch
and nuzzle
across their thawing bodies,
and ever more rouse
to the touch of life
and breath of love.
The chuckling of
irony driven clear
accompanies the roar
of renewed life
as these embers within
smile and lick
into the air
and shine
out into the world.
I offer the
warmth you have returned to me
as the uplifting voice you need
to climb into the sky where you belong.
To hold you aloft
(so the world may see
the love you kindled
in my now burning heart,
so that our love shines
into the dark and the cold)
is the deepest wish
of the man’s heart
whence you have become part.
Yet sated not,
To be left aloft
you fan the fervor
that draws my crackling soul
upward with you.
The dance of roaring flame and reviving wind,
so soon began,
now feeds us both
in endless burning harmony.

The man
stepped off
the ledge,
and fell
in love.
The ground
let him
down once.

This morning your smile and your figure stole my eyes from the road, your laugh and your whisper stole my ears from the radio. Only potential death and imminent destruction snatched my senses from joyous past to swerving present. Only the fearful curve of the road brought my hands from the future caress of yours. and my fear felt all the same.

My lips held more than your skin, I tasted you beneath the surface, I smelled more than your clean smooth scent. I inhaled something spiritual and intoxicating, I swallowed something sensual and ethereal. A vintage unfamiliar, a drunk not love-punched, a buzz without birds and bees. Crazy driven crazy driving.

No wonder my hands held your hips instead of the wheel, my eyes sought your beauty locked behind them instead of the drive ahead, your hands against my chest sent my heart racing as well as my car.

My poetic heart will be the death of me.

Drawing on something I cannot know,
Her breath alone stirs miles within,
And my joy surges up to overflow,
For man was not meant to keep it in.
And so here gushes forth first blood of cupids arrow,
Splashing rose on my cheeks at her mildest grin.

Oh, how the brave do fall, when the furls of power sprawl to cover all.

Simple joys of life unbound scatter along the sullied ground, there to be              unfound and kicked around.

Oh how their beauties fade, when never have they paid for that which made the lives in which they parade.

The toils of love can never rise above the pride that has never seen the shove of a painful rebuff.

How do we repair this harmful error, when so long it finds its heir both here and there?

Never can they change to lives full of range that they find strange, and relax in its fangs.

So glory to the just, who shutter from the dust, exactly as they must, to find the things they distrust and move in spite of these painful thrusts.

It is these pains which goad us on, in these we find our song to move along and trust that which breaks the bonds to these drugs we’re on.

So, I tell you now, find how this world tries to tie you down, then break the walls which crowd until they lay on the ground,

And in this you shall be free, to live the life which you see and find your eternity in all that comes to be.

The world paints an impossible portrait of love;
You are to reach into their life, convince them that
their heart is yours, show them your strength by holding it
aloft, treating it gently, but here we are made
of only flesh and blood, which may as well be mud,
And this we cannot maintain, the sweat and blood flow
And erosion of our minds eats away our strength,
The strain makes us squeeze, and the tears that roll down our face
are poison to that heart aloft, so heavy borne
And before we know it, we are floating, adrift,
Arm half-cocked trying to predict the tide, floating
In filth, a poison we’ve made, lies and hope and fear,
Sitting on a powder keg, match lit and flicking
We know, if we let go the pieces fall too far,
And the toxic pool will claim this precious thing, that
We always knew was ill deserved in the first place,
And our own poisoned fallen heart remembers well,
Someone once held it aloft and failed to protect,
But our strength wavers before we know what to do,
So darkness and retreat are the only safeties,
From this shameful wrath at fuses end and tides call.
But all is not lost, perhaps there is something more,
A way to dispel this fear and greed with courage,
With an honest answer to this truth confusing,
With love we can hold our own hearts to the heavens
Whenever we trust there is another out there,
Others with mud stacked high, scented with fading lies,
Still willing to put something deep inside them first,
And share it aloud, if only with just the one.

Trying to free myself from the anguished cave that I have eroded in my heart with my manic tides! Like a cavern that opens low, and fills high, I am drowning. Whatever delves to see the mystic and secretive dark is trapped and subject to the shadows and beasts that rise from the depths. Breaking it down, changing the tides, finding escapes, closing the gaps, accepting my fate so that the pain doesn't find you, doesn't **** you in like Old Sow, and spit you out with the hurricane, gasping for life and crazy with need. We both disappear as I dive to hide my shame of the dwellers in the dark, and the air grows stale in my great and hollow chambers, the ones I wore into my heart. No wonder your mind turns dark my love, no wonder your life spirals away as you fight for air, or pound on my shell, again to take the wonders I hide inside with the demons and the lies. One day I will learn to share the lights and shiny and not drown you in the dark, one day I will surface to the world you know and live among men, an equal, a love worth knowing. But now all I can offer you again is the chance to see and hope you survive, hope your lungs hold out and your hearts doesn't shrivel in despair. That your flesh remain unscathed by the claws and rocks, that the dark doesn't claim your eyes, and that you remember the lights and shiny inside as you realize the monster beneath the gold and blue, discover the darkness behind the quiet calm and sandy warmth. Hope you realize your mistake before it’s too late and the tide comes rolling in, with all the angst and irk of these words and more.
You are the one who found a back way in, not through the sandy shore near the angst and fear, but from beside, winding around the chaotic and difficult cerebral and temporal to the embrace within, still tempered by flash floods and the stray demon, but so far from the trap that has consumed and corrupted.  Still the tides rise, and the way out is winding, but you have found my heart and all that is liken to you, the beautiful and free, the joyous and concerned, the warped and balanced, the organic and growing, it all has found your sight beyond the miraculous odds, and creeping shadows, you have found what gems, what treasures were to be had, and your joy is stirring to behold, but the stirring has awoken a fire within, a rumble of danger and dread rolls through the drowned caverns into the filling ones, and echoes of pain unworthy howl unheard beneath the waves that crash inside. I will not see you drowned and entrapped, mind boiling away in my manic frustrating corridors, among the pieces left behind of the fled and failed before you. I will not see my demons have you. I would shelter you from any storm the world can throw at you, but I cannot save you from myself.