Love was betrayed in winter's stillness;

it withered under silent snow.

I stare out windows made of ice and

see the yard's gate half closed.

My frozen garden has lost its bloom;

a brown stained rose on the window sill

a reminder still.

While embers smolder in the hearth

a grey sky fosters surrender.

My banal deed is a sheet of ice,

touching it stings your fingers.

A bitter taste is in my mouth for

lies can never hold a love for long.

The tea kettle still hisses, steam curls

into the room of barren table, two empty chairs.

Excruciating is the heaviness in my chest.

Betrayal is the cowards way;

love is only for the brave,

Love can leave a terrible sting

especially when it has taken wing

The lover sits and knows why.

The sky is black and full of lies.

The cistern of my lust and desire;

squelched by water, oil and fire.

My heart, a blinking thing

gone mute.

Forgiveness never comes with truth.

That is where i went quit wrong.

Months and months of a sad, sick song.

Finally, lover's coals are put on the hearth.

There they stay till  winter's march.

A miracle of plain design, so quietly it sneaks

in with its design.

My heart a happy beast at last.

Love returned  bravely but will it last?

I lay me down to sleep with dark thoughts

     swirling in my brain.

I knew the dreams would come

     and I would live again.

The dream life was exhausting

     as I met strangers and made house.

Dreams took me from my frosty life

     and lead me to release of spouse.

I'd travel to strange places,

     drink to my delight.

Wake up with indigestion

      in the middle of the night.

I lay there in the morning my

      heart racing to a dread.

Was I able to breath

      or was I really dead?

My gasp for air

     was a shuddering feat.

Then I would gasp again.

My wife she lay beside me

     unaware of where I'd been.

I'd look at her disgruntled

     face in sleep.

Asking why I had to

     take that breath?

I did so long to live again...

     so I went back to sleep.

Terrible truths have been gagged by rags

in the mouth of man.

He cannot speak in this cellar of souls for

things of ourselves  are hidden

in dark places.

A dark, where silent  lies are told.

Man did gag his truthful voice because

of no understanding.

The way of the beast in the field is man's way.

But, he refuses redeeming his due.

So, man stays dead in soul

with no words to save him.

So, frightened of those terrible truths

forever mute and raving.

The human imperative tells you this if

nobody tried to live this way the useful world would be in vain.

A man, like me, sitting on this sagging bed, staring at the green

greased stained walls disgusted with the human imperative is unique.

I detest the ***** smell in the dingy brown halls and

the communal bathroom with bugs on the wall.

I know why you had me taken away not jailed this time.

I didn't hit you just spilled whiskey on your imperative new

furniture and dress. Now, whiskey is spilled on this brown

stained carpet and I have no more money. You saw to that!

I'm too sick to panhandle. Nothing to pawn. And the human

imperative makes me sicker. It doesn't consider really gut

hunger for love, ***, food, sleep, oblivion from the mind's

torments of failure. I didn't expect much from this life.

My brilliance kept me above the rest. I am brilliant enough to

know life can end here till they throw you in the alley to die.

There is no where to go. You say recovery? I say, Bull!

No one recovers from a plan like this. Not when you were

King of the road. Not when you wouldn't concede to others

needs because they were banal and stupid and nobody

accepted you drunk. I didn't hit you this time. I know when

I hit you. Some don't. I know I made a mess and was bad.

**** it, once in awhile one of us gets away. They do, imperative

or not...

As the bruises fade I scare myself;

the abyss is close today.

Making love with you leaves me black and blue

and my mind goes blank when you stay.

Lightening strikes across the bedroom air.

A bolt strikes you in the head.

That lightening came from a pointed gun

and now you're finally dead

Tree branches glisten like diamond chains.

Frozen lips want to sing old refrains.

Home, and hearth, Thanksgiving too...

friends, and relatives, the house is a zoo.

Frozen outdoors as the fresh turkey arrives.

Mother in apron is sure to preside.

Pumpkin pie, spiced cider, cranberries glisten,

father tells his jokes and nobody listens.

Sister arrives with rose hips and blooms;

a dazzling display in the living room.

We all gather together to feast at the table.

Say a quick prayer and eat as much as we're able.