Every morning I am grateful
For granting me another day
Days of the past were a lesson
Teaching the art of perseverance
A grateful heart for what I have-
Love, gratitude and another spare day

I came to you last night, climbed in through your window with the last of the summer breeze. You sat on the floor, so small in your sorrow while you held the world in your shaking palm, the pressure of it's screaming too much for your tender heart.
I came to you last night and my heart swelled with love as I watched your tears glisten, their salt on my lips as I kissed your tired skin. I will hold you for a lifetime, tightly against my beating heart, so that you may hear the love I have for you as it thunders through my very being, strong and true against your darkest tide.
I am love, I am comfort, I am strength.
I am yours. Take my light, my song, my heart, let them lift you from the swirling depths, let them anchor your soul to mine that you may always have a home.
Once you lifted my heart to the heavens with a single word and within that moment I knew that we were two halves of a broken whole, though our pieces are scattered and torn we are bound, our destinies colliding within the storm that is our existence.
I came to you last night, no harm shall enter in my wake, no sorrow will linger, only my unending joy at your smile as you whisper "hello".

Bullet and blade
Have ended
Many a friend.

Some were warriors
Living by sword, others
Just unlucky.

No one safe from
Anything. I buy her
Pepperspray instead of

Flowers these days.
Keep leaving
Butterfly knives in the

Pockets of her coats.
I am a man of non-violence,
But one with worlds to lose.

I miss the days when the fight
Ended as ground was hit.
Knuckles and bones were

All we needed; men fencing
For themselves with nothing
But themselves,  

And women were there to be
Charmed and fought over. Not
Left torn and terrified

In a ditch, broken beyond repair,
Their men helplessly wielding
Lead and steel at the absence

Of the animal responsible.
I'll buy her flowers today.
Flowers, and walk her home.

Bullet and blade
Have ended
Many a friend.

The weight of their
Tragedies is about the
Same

As that of the crates of ammunition
It takes to keep the world
Safe from the threat of itself.

The body is a vessel that takes love or gives love...
The hands are the ones who touch you softly or put you in pain...
The lips we kiss can be soft and gentle or raw and charged...
The heart tells all, tells you lies and deciet or of love and honesty...
The eyes are the window to the soul, they speak volumes with out a voice...
V  2008

The Vessel
A wounded vessel tossed about in the storms of life
The vessel was once strong unshaken by the wind sure and secure in itself and about life
The once strong vessel is wounded again feeling hurt angry insecure ashamed lonely
Overwhelming blows of feelings hitting the vessel the pain is intense the memories of abuse are
Strong a blow to the heart and emotions
A cry out for assistance I cry out for the captain’s help in facing the crisis I look at the holes in the vessel
I ask for support from friends and groups etc. to help me repair the vessel to make it strong again
The vessel is not the same as it once was but there is hope that one day it can be better than it is now
The vessel is being mended and is getting stronger for the first time it's experiencing sunrises and sunsets that it has never seen before
Maybe it can be made stronger than it ever was and sail towards peaceful shores

many hundreds of dappled shadows
played on the forest's floor