Don't sugar coat
Your words
For me
Just give me
The rotten
Truth
Something to
Chew on
And throw away

For your information
I deserve happiness at times

Enough of you
I'm getting bored

Give me a break

Watching the fog as it lifts clear of the day is
like watching a life drifting slowly away,
slowly meandering
hither and yon
( hither and yon are words soon to be gone)

and a Mexican with a mandolin
pulls on a cigarillo
as he pops a cloud with a pin,

daydreams and Sunday

Church

in this house of a higher creation
it's half past six and time to
get your skates on,
ps
Babylon does not come after Epsilon
but it's all Greek
which is nice,

she was not a predictable kind of girl
not on the elliptical after work, kind of churlish,
living in a simple world type of girl

her hair cyclical in raphael kind of curls
and her biblical storm swirled whirlwind eyes unfurl
in the rain
like a pirouette
like a rose
like rolling thunder

Sometimes inspiration is free
Other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning
Of our words
Eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior
Braving the darkness
Seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
Within that darkness
Lies the eternal
A place without form
A castle, a dungeon
And for the unwise
A prison without end
And only those
Well acquainted
With their own madness
May tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
Whose shape is an omnipresent
Kaleidoscope of meanings
And to solidify its form
And cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
Our bottomless pit
Our greatest weakness
And our ultimate triumph.

-----

Reformatted version:

Sometimes inspiration is free
other-times it costs you the world
In our abandon we seek
Divinity, eternity
And often the meaning of our words
eludes even us
Are we an author?
A seeker?
A valiant warrior braving the darkness
seeking for such elusiveness
It sets the mind free
within that darkness lies the eternal
a place without form
a castle, a dungeon
and for the unwise, a prison without end
And only those well acquainted
with their own madness
may tread its murky waters
To pluck that fruit
whose shape is an omnipresent kaleidoscope of meanings
and to solidify its form
and cast it onto sprawling page
This is our work
our bottomless pit
our greatest weakness
and our ultimate triumph.

10 months and I still cry
10 months and one would think I have moved on
10 months and still not close to enough

I lie in bed
Ready to scream
My eyes filled with tears

And I ask myself why
Why I‘m not good enough
Why she is
Why I still cry
And why you not

And I wonder how I ended up here