Anxiety: a
hornet's nest inside the mind
inescapable

Is it my priestly duty
to be denied?
love—time and all else, at all cost!
while he went home alone to watch a movie?

Another victim  
sacrificed
having squandered all my pieces in his game?
Trudging home
along the river
slow, in snow
I parse my losses

At the outskirts of a homeless camp
I pause below a viaduct
hauling passion by a leash
warming hands
avoiding hovel-eyes
Flames flicker on our faces
receiving absolution over embers
of a burning embrace

There trace
in glowing holocaust of skids
in human bleatings and crumblings
our smoke rises— pure   obscure
Appease with *****-blur
the icy, stinging God of winter stars...

G’nights inaudible as blessing

Am I derelict enough to be worthy?
Fallen far enough?
from the porches of prosperity?
to escape it all?
That wedding white
the newborn’s head
that numbing denial of decay?

Am I depraved enough to make it?
to the pages of your tragedy— minus poetry?

But the angel said
“The poetry’s more!”

Than leaving me—beyond you

...in the shambles of my words

To the naked eye
untrained to see,
restrained from light,
the beauty of the mind
that mines these words I write,
it would seem it is so,
these wings expanding thought
are merely fiverlous poems.

But if you exchange the eye
for the ear,
the object will appear more sincere,
a purer reflection,
clearer perspective
of the silent solitude,
an introspective perfectionist
commands into clammour.

The manipulation of words
into submission,
feline instruments
that stretch out and purr for attention,
the recognition of a million yells, slumpped down into whispers;
the trappings of self,
surfaced above the outer shell, unwrapping the gift of the internal, exposing the breaths taken
before life reaches untimely end.

You do not need to see
to read me,
but touch the braile,
feel the lining,
the thread of skin.
Press the lips of ear to me
and you will hear my true nature,
the symphonies of my heart
an expression of my acoustic soul;
the sound of me beating
to my own drum.

The nakedness of dark,
                  an indecent exposure,
               peaks the curisosity of moon,
          that peeks through the window,
                       opening my poet's mind,
                        curving thoughts of you
                           into an iridescent light
                         that embraces the soul,
                            kisses slow the mind,
                    fills me with desire
             to be something more
     than the mumbling ghost;
forgotten dreams.

After sunset
did you miss me,
as lush pink skies hardened
to indigo and grey,
as rose colored eyes
drifted into white ocean,
the weariness of sleep?
Did you dream
the same dream as I,
to be held once more
in the arms of love?

I don't know if you do
but I want you to know
that I don't mind if you mind me.
I often do think of you too;
my mind still clings to what was,
my heart knee deep in mourning
                           wavers             between                                   moments
                    we use to share
       and the ones that will never be.

I guess love never fades completely
but is reborn after the sun dies;
in quiet reflection,
       the changing winds
                   shifting loneliness
                        into a spine of light,
                              where lovers lost
                  find each other in the dark.
                     The comforting cocoon
             of dream.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalms 34:18

Ive already broken
satan's gravtational pull.
Refuse to let him bring me down.
All I can do is go up Lord.
Higher in you.
Lord I'm already broken.
Heart already cut open.
Commence surgery.
Cardiac arrest me.
Let me die to my flesh so that you can renew me.
Clean my heart so that it beats purely.
Flesh of your flesh.
Bone of your bone.
You created me in your image.
Your clone.
So let my ways mirror yours.
Lord be the center of my life.
My core.
Let my heart be patient.
Let my words be kind.
Let my thoughts be pure.
Lord protect my mind.
Though I cry
Lord catch these tears.
Though I stand in the unknown
Lord calm my fears.
Take my hand.
Hold me close.
Lead me beside your still waters.
Don't let me go.
Just know
these words are sincere.
I NEED YOU!
I NEED YOU!
Lord hear my prayer.

Older now,
I remember wishing
to be all grown up;
a gift I wish I could pawn
return back to be young.
Binge watching cartoons,
no responsibilities,
childhood memories;
I long for simplicity
the feeling of being free.

Clear
as a silver moon
in pitch black
at midnight,
I saw you,
felt you,
knew you,
as a moonlit stream
rippling
with love;
consuming me.

In your touch
I felt the break
of dark matter
into light,
jagged rock
become smooth,
languid;
a sea
drowning
a broken heart.

You sink me
beneath
silver bells,
dream's spell.
Love me out of
my empty shell,
fill my well
with rain;
a tenderness,
the echo of peace.

You sink me deeper
into the calm
of your palms,
let me lose myself
in the pulsing
beneath your flesh;
the soft womb
of your heart
full of love.

In there
I can breathe.
Like the calm.
The quiet
timber of light,
outgrowing the shadows
of my despair.
I like feeling
of your hands in my hair
finding myself
finally at peace
with the world