an ethereal presence
felt long before ever being heard
energy flowing through space and time
resonant frequencies with dynamic effect

inducing within romantic chambers
a rhapsodic ocean of dance and song
a mountainous symphony of possibility
a delicate and gentle concerto of dreams

musical princess of harmonic evolution
melodic instrument for conscious healing
emanating perfect pitch whether sharp or flat
an athenaeum of inspiration and maternal lyricism

...oh, to remain in concert...

they say a watched *** never boils
but my mind certainly does
and i watch it all the time
it's never out of my sight
yet it's constantly spilling its contents
in a roiled turmoil
all over my consciousness

the result is a reduction
of my state of mind
of my perspective
either a concentrated awareness
or a flavorless sludge of grey matter
it all depends on the heat applied
it all depends on evaporation

a proper chef would be attentive
a saucier of good stock
choosing quality ingredients
maintaining a simmer
avoiding a seethe
controlling condensation
distilling even pabulum to perfection

on the crowded quai of inception
   gilded minutes ornately revolve
time is measured in tranches of soul
   transporting moments of his essence

never versed in the outside world
   an innocent daughter of imagination
boarding a train of transfixed reverie
   her departure held fast in sistine release

such a private exhibition on public display
   their affection left open to interpretation
a tearfully expressive and inspired farewell
   within a shrine devoted to the art of the muse

like a fish out of water
walking backwards upstream
grand illusion of compliance
buying nothing sight unseen

respecting their essence
detached from their path
connected in spirit
repelled by all wrath

norms without ethics
morality sans love
passion ever searching
a need to rise above

heart sinking hatred
mind numbing neglect
mountain moving greed
rarely circumspect

not infrequently i ponder
how my being was unfurled
wondering deeply in my soul
if i belong to another world

insidious...
the forces that bend us toward self-destruction

insidious...
the illusions that feed those malevolent forces

insidious...
the stories that construct those obscuring illusions

insidious...
the thoughts that metastasize into those deluding stories

insidious...
the mind that identifies with those detrimental thoughts

innocent...
the soul that succumbs

I'm tired of beauty
incessantly meddling in my affairs

luring me to venture outside myself
revealing hidden radiance within

disguising life's dismal undercurrent
reducing it to a superficial veneer

randomly appearing by surprise
stubbornly eliciting a smile

performing alchemy on the mundane
dousing my awareness in the elixir of life

beauty...
the pulchritude of spirit...that's all it is...

the moon is waxing
the tide is flowing
my soul is coming into estrus

there are no answers
only decisions to be made
actions to be taken

the universe is waiting
courting my being
an invitation to expand

that we exist
that we are whole
that we are worthy
that we are accepted
that we are respected
that we are connected
that we are appreciated
that we are of consequence

that we even matter at all...

She will lose herself in a book
and find herself in poetry

She thinks that religion is a sacrilege
and that long showers are sacred

She makes love when she's tired
and never tires of making love

She is irreverent in her humor
and pious in her gravity

She is diligent in completing her work
and ambitious of her quest for leisure

She is the personification of romanticism
and the embodiment of compassion

She exists harmoniously in my mind

Slumbered scratching into a bedside notebook
   lying in darkness under a thick blanket of revelation
Afraid that lamplight may blind these 3am eyes
   to the dim, wispy glow of mystical comprehension

Trusting that valued mysteries will later be deciphered
   from this barely legible scrawl of the night
Refusing to squander such moments of divine lucidity
   captured in a poetic hand written outside the lines

Reluctant to wait until morning lest the light of day
   exposes a tenuous relationship to reality
Causing rays of enlightenment to glance off its surface
   in beams of obscure and superficial logic

Tangential truths
   scribbled in the dark

Don't want to speak too soon
   or speak too late, for that matter

Should speak up and speak out
   ...cat got your tongue?

But not speak ill or speak out of turn
   ...bite your tongue!

Above all, speak the truth, your truth
   ...not with a forked tongue

Truth be told
   sometimes I don't want to speak at all
And if you knew me
   that would truly be saying something

Speak!...Speak!...Good boy...

I'm unapologetically a bit too sensitive
   highly attuned to inanimate feelings

the lone Cheerio circling the drain is given
   a kindred companion for its journey

considerate thought is given to the preferences
   of animal crackers...heads or legs bitten first

many items are thanked before discarded
   others parted with reluctantly if ever

a twinge of conscience is felt while pruning
   perfectly healthy leaves from house plants

objects are arranged in pairs and groups
   in a compassionate effort for inclusion

The Velveteen Rabbit makes perfect sense to me

such a feral, taunting creature
   concealed in anxious mind shadow
elusive as the day is too long

its refracted image submerged
   beneath comprehension's surface
defying every attempted grasp

its soothing and alluring voice
   subtly indistinct to my disquiet
like words whispered into a fan

Tarot toting tinker
    let's have another round
my future's in the balance
    lay yet another down

Never had much luck at cards
   even less so at l'amour
give a wandering fool direction
   high priestess, I kneel before

Your caravan will travel on
   as I seek the royal road
my chariot is torn asunder
   pray deal me a lighter load

Increasingly distorted memories
   slowly succumbing to darkness
Some fallen, some forced into
   the oubliette of my subconscious

Figures of the past linger tentatively
   before receding into shadow
Familiar strangers they do seem
   as if merely remnants of dreams

The looking glass of childhood friends
   mirrors an unrecognizable effigy
An idealized reflection of a former self
   unflinching in its accusatory glare

Whispers persist from imprisoned depths
   for I am silently being recalled to life
Somehow I've forgotten how to be
   the only person I've ever wanted to be

Somehow I've forgotten how to be me

Finally...to have experienced genuine love!

...a captivating whisper of tender words
...a knowing glance of enduring confidence
...a gentle touch charged with intimacy

If only that lovely couple would pass by more often...

A black and white world doesn't suit me
  I have a visceral response to generalizations
  that serve to minimize, demonize, marginalize

Neither can I accept an existence sheltered in grey
  restrictively deliberating in the narrow space
  between cautious optimism and healthy skepticism

The spectrum of possibility is infinite
  when seen with an open mind and giving heart
  at the risk of discovering beauty

Stanza 1
yada, yada, yada
...something clever

Stanza 2
blah, blah, blah
...something sincere

Stanza 3
la, la, la
...something profound

Stanza 4
yeah, yeah, yeah
...something vague

Stanza 5
etc, etc, etc
...something touching

Stanza 6
hmm, hmm, hmm
...something to ponder

Should I post this mess?
...meh...

My heart yearns for what once was
   my mind fighting to hold the line in a quiet battle
  
Time, relentlessly persistent in its attempts to erase
   dragging my life forward into fading memory

Moments attenuating, absorbed by the past
   distorted in all but the essential
  
But their essence is distilled in my soul
   dormant in an archived strength and purity

Occasional mindbursts of beauty are released
   refusing to be contained or denied

A certain scent in the air, a certain quality of light
   a lyric of song, a touch of breeze...all catalysts

Spontaneously transported into a joyful state
   I'm consumed by a déjà vu of carefree ambiance

Bejeweled compartments spill their contents
   washing over my mind in a composite nostalgia

Familiar waves of concentrated being saturate
   my existence for a compelling glimpse of the idyllic

In those fleeting reveries of peaceful contentedness
   I feel completely at home within myself

blood stains her canvas
   congealed crusts, fresh streaks
frayed corners and edges
   the tattered toll of pain, loss

how best to depict my love on her
   overlay her with beauty
to develop a patina of care over time
   reduce her suffering to pentimento

her landscape shifts constantly
   with the quality of her light
I must blend to the shade of her mood
   her want...her need

work from the palette of my heart
   in the spectrum of my love
paint her in courted color
   every tone of every hue

brush her being with my caress
   creatively styled to her moment
pastel tenderness...primary strength
   bold strokes of passion...bright splashes of spontaneity

to portray for her a frameless existence
   of unlimited intimacy and peace
but she does not rest on my easel
   and I am merely dreaming of the art of love

I wish I could say...
  that I don't believe in love
  that I don't believe in truth
  that I don't believe in you

Life would seem less futile somehow
   but also...less beautiful

fragments of life
scattered on the photoshop floor
discarded moments
deleted before fully developed

urgency depicted as living for today
overexposing the instantaneous
cropping a disjointed existence
from the bitmap of impatience

why the aversion to time's darkroom
where future's blur slowly comes into focus
giving clarity to the contiguous
splicing realization from potential

cut to ending...

a panoramic view of destiny's horizon
where paths converge but never vanish

Imprinting herself around me
   a tenderly etched embrace
Integrity of heart and soul
   intact, time shan't erase

A scarab if a beetle
   a nova if a star
An amulet of conviction
   pulsing light from afar

My hand is open to her
   my life freely given
To be loved simply by loving
   ancient wisdom recently rewritten