Waves traveling uniformly in the culmination of reality
Elusive perfection never meets our eyes
It is carried
In the messenger of colors
Reflecting within these portals
Directed towards the medium of awareness.

I am within the vast expanse of harmonious order
Breathing in the cosmic bonds
As a composition of ancient dust
Experiencing the mystery of happen
And the equivocal breadth of our surroundings.

I don't want to be in your bed sheets.
And I don't want you tangled up in mine,
I made my bed this morning.
I don't want you in my bed sheets,
Tangled up in them
Entwined
As if they were the vines of lust,
Binding you to the mirage of Us
The vines of love are coated with dust,
It's dangerous.
It's slippery.
Wet like the ocean as soon as you dip in me.
They say the ocean is deep and within it lie secrets...
Kiss me farewell and dive to the bottom of the seven seas just to keep it.
I don't want to go swimming in my bed sheets.
Then they'd be drenched from the high tides of expired desire
I don't want to wring out the deception that you perspire
I don't want to make my bed again.
My laundry is clean.

As I watch the people scurry around me
Like ants in a maze
Living the lives they believe are their own,
I wonder if they can even fathom
All the lies and secrets that surround them?

Our world has turned into a place
That feeds on lies
And treats honesty like a crime,
A crime deserving of immense punishment.

Lies end in reward.
Honesty in scorn.
I loathe the liars,
For they are cowards.

While honesty may hurt now,
A lie will grow and spread like a wildfire,
Like a disease,
Lethal to all those who come in contact with it.

I am not immune to this disease.
On the contrary,
I am a carrier of it.

I’ve always been told
My honesty and abruptness get me into trouble,
But I would rather be openly criticized
To my face for my honesty
Then have people feed and thrive on my lies.

They say “revenge is a dish best served cold.”
Lucky for me, my emotions can never just go into hiding.
They are always front and center
Just waiting to be poked and prodded,
A fire ready to ignite and consume.

I fell in step with a beautiful boy on an undefined path in the woods
Eyes of melted caramel, lips of bitten cherries
A face of dazzlingly white sun rays

His fair composition had caught my eye
Several grown oak trees away
An intensity of gamma rays and morning light
mixed in with a dash of candlelight

As I neared, I became drunk on his sweet fragrance
Of burnt wood and hot chocolate
and lying outside in the midst of a spring day
Tender breezes that smell of rain and cold earth

This boy, how softly he stepped, catalyzed a desire deep within
A compelling to touch, maybe taste his beauty
My white hand reached out, an extension of billowing feathers
With risk, attempted a gentle, gossamer graze on his back
and my face, a blush burning, consumed my whiteness

But this boy, so beautiful, had a bitter back
And soon my white feathers frosted
Ice caked in between my limbs 
Spread with an intensity like wildfire
And my nimble body no longer white
So cold, so heavy, I fell

It was ten years ago to the day
that his wife died. He was going to retire
but the lighthouse needed his care.

There was a ghost in his basement
or was that just a trick of the light.
If it was it just wasn't fair.

The deepness of the foghorns call
kept him from missing a single soul.
When someone stopped in to visit, he'd only sit and stare.

Many people came and asked  him to leave
but he stood his ground, he just held tight,
you see, to leave would be more than he could bear.

It was ten years ago to the day
that his wife died. he was going to retire
but the lighthouse need his care.

One thing that he never knew
was that he was that ghost in the basement.
He was the ghost down there sitting in that chair.



AllRights Rerserved@2009

"Stop thief" I yelled out chasing her,
            she stopped, hugged and kissed me deep-
                                                   consummating her theft.

Twisted reeds sway gently in the wind as black seabirds slice the sky overhead.
Waves rolling one by one crash with increasing ferocity on to the rocky beach,
And I watch the red sun set fire to the spray while  the tide encircles me.
Tugging at my feet, pulling me forward, it beckons for my consent. I give in,
And all is quiet even in such chaos. All is nightmarish and beautiful all the more.

The blood red horizon seers my retinas; freshly unleashed tears take to the sea.
These waves, such enormous swells, crash in on me; an unseen war is waging.
They press  me down and back, and then drag me further into the endless blue.
Over and over again, repetition loses count, my outcries die prematurely.
Only seawater and air manage to sputter from my lips, cracked and worn.

Not a whisper can be heard out here in such a true state of despair, but not all
Castaways are without faith. The past I once cherished has been lost to the depths,
Yet a knowing tingle in my gut keeps me searching for a message hidden merely
'Neath the surface. Drifting deeper into my pain, I notice a curious thing:  
The force of the waves lessening as I gracelessly surrender to Sorrow and the sea.

My feet torn by jagged rocks no longer felt, my eyelids blistered by the red
Eternal sunset, a few waves push me under before the siege of the sea falters and
I learn to ride the surf, taking each afront as it comes, whether predicted or
Suddenly upon me. My pain ebbs away slowly with the passing of each episode,
And with each wave I acknowledge my loss, relinquishing my burden.

Like so many desparinging hearts before me shipwrecked in the sea of tears,
I forcefully remind myself that one day the lush, inviting green shores of the
Other side of the sea will appear in my line of vision. Yet, for now, I let myself
Drift through the grief of grieving you, often unsure of whether I'm meant to float
Or should let myself sink toward the blackest crags of my mind. Here alone.