Integrating these strange moments
I wish that I could forget,
Containing withheld restlessness...
A world eternally upset.

While pressed by the spinning silence
Against this cold, graffitied wall,
As here within Oblivion
My consciousness begins to fall.

For these resounding vibrations
Now rip infinity in two,
Birthing an illumination
Bringing forth Inspiration's view.

This invading tempo climbs,
Sounds illustrating our differences
Musical hues dancing in eyes,
As aberrant colors produce sighs.


In the midst of rhythmic chaos
This numbness thoroughly surrounds,
For those trapped within Musican's ethos
There is no escape to be found.

An eye, wondering of desires
already imagined,
poisoned Love by the bedside.

Love withdrawn, gratefully dying,
a beauty falling fast
from hundreds of stars…

Alas, is gone.

The eternal moon comes
to deliver hope and contentment,
for a heart deserted in oblivion.

A weary, veiled spirit left
laying in the stars,
soul strewn on parchments.

A lamp of knowledge is lifted
to spread the interpreted light,
and touch the eyes of the poet
with the blessed fingertips of Life.

The mystery of the holies
falling on a noble stranger,
who, breathing in understanding,
is salvaged.

The scent of incense still remains,
Though the smoke fades like a memory,
My heart, eternal hope contains.

Of every moment, my mind retains,
Our brief and fleeting history,
The scent of incense still remains.

Resurrected with spring rains,
Memories stir, my eyes become watery,
My heart, eternal hope contains.

Morning's light shines through window panes,
Remembering your body with perfect clarity,
The scent of incense still remains.

My soul bond to yours with Love's chains,
Where the key may be is forever a mystery,
My heart, eternal hope contains.

In my head echoes a song's refrain,
Flames casting shadows that are fiery,
The scent of incense still remains,
My heart, eternal hope contains.

I am disconnected, a broken circuit....
With no light behind my eyes.
This apathy has made me certain,
Of where our untrodden path now lies.

Once normal glances, turned suspicious
Gazes avoided, emotions slide.
Attacks of isolation, vicious;
I search for an abstract place to hide.

But these fleeing feet, they find no refuge
For my shield is now what shuts me out,
I do my best to try to reach you
But I cannot breach your wall of doubt.

My hands ***** for a course of action
But I cannot see the steps to take,
As every word is weighed with reaction
This path outlined with my mistake.

Blood cannot purchase my atonement,
Otherwise, I would be bled dry.
For Mercy seems to be absent
Or indifferent to my cry.

Hummingbird,
reflecting shattered
strains of
stained glass light,
invoking the laws of physics...

You,

Threaded a muted conversation
through soup can telephones
into this delusional bubble
within the Novocaine fog.

Unexpected disruption
in my comfortable illusion,
grating vibration buzzing in...

Inadvertently excavating
that secret chamber,
pressure sealed,

Only to find there are no treasures inside.....

For the Sphinx has lost them,
and the mummy's venom
reactivates in this bent light...

and digests me...

from the inside.

i.

The notes are ingrained
by the blue petalled flames,
burning them into my bones.
All other colors fade,
detach,
suspended in a waking dream.


Here, in the lingering lucidity,
this maddening gnaw of pain
leaks the little whispers,
stealing rhapsody from pleasure.

ii.

Tightrope treachery,
a daringly dancing gypsy
spinning about on a narrow wall.

A burning star,

she leaps...

leaving shimmering stardust
in her wake,
balance risked for the
momentum of grace.

A barter between freedom and fate,
perhaps circles of three
will bring it all tumbling
to the ground.

iii.

Ariadne abandonment,
I foam milkweed at the mouth
under the burning moon.

Casting aside
the anguish of this tether,
feeding tinder to an infant rage,
I let its coals singe my soul
while this blazing inferno
carries my fury forward.

I **** the marrow of courage...

Now, I shall deprive the Minotaur of his horns
and roast Theseus' heart upon their tips!

iv.

The flavor of innocence on my lips
has become a sorrowing memory.
In the waking moments, the world
slowly becomes unbound before me,
my wandering is done,
the final marks are made.

And the taste of one too many poppies
tingles on my tongue,
as my voice is laid out on a slab of words.

Every time the eyes turn away
I cease to exist –

Dying a numbered death
Roaming in solitary, spectral form
The evidence of my existence foregone.

A returning glance won't bring my resurrection...

Hovering bee-like around you,
Minimally acknowledged,
This distant yeast mouth
Expands and swallows me.

In the absence of the buzzing wings
The mead waits for Dionysus
To be reborn.

Harsh echoes falling down,
Rage melting with Love's gentle kiss.
Curtains of tremulous sorrow parting
Revealing wings of forgiveness,
Draped in a sea of silver threads.

Wounds that ask for healing,
For things Time won't forget.
Hearts longing for reconciliation,
While Love still holds strong,
Despite the turbulence.

The fragile heart of Trust still beating,
Though a potentially fatal blow it received.
The wounded one still reeling,
From the hurt deception has conceived.

The guilty one accepts the blame,
But fiery penance cannot redeem.
Explanations are insufficient,
And found difficult to believe.

The guilty kneels before the wounded,
In admittance of what has been done,
Leaning only upon grace and mercy,
Forgiveness cannot be earned or won.

The wings of the wounded wrap around the guilty,
With their spreading, healing is released.
Restoring Love's sure foundation,
And bringing death to grief.