Upon a crest of ruby flames,
  Was writ a list of seven names:
Of gods and goddesses untold
  Whose quiet tenets never sold.

Mavis was the nymph of pallor,
  Patron saint of putrid squalor.
Watching, with a tender eye,
  The lives of those resigned to die.

Beatrice, with hair of scarlet,
  Took the throne of seething harlot.
Harbinger of crippling sadness;
  Queen of darkness, death, and madness.

Paul, whose eyes had never wept,
  Ensured that secrets would be kept.
Cursed with blindness, deafness, dumbness,
  A walking vault of tortured numbness.

Talim broke her mother's heart,
  And many others from the start.
She, the deity of glee,
  Knew ignorance and apathy.

Alastair, the golden thief,
  Toed the boundaries of grief,
He sang to people with his flute
  That there was more to life than loot.

Tess won't look you in the eyes;
  Mistress of the compromise;
Smiling, even as she hums,
  That "maybe next time" never comes.

Alex comes to break the silence,
  God of wishes, drugs, and violence.
Crashing through with mighty clamour;
  Hope the nail, and he the hammer.

Of all the deities we cherish,
  Even those whose memories perish,
None are sad as those who don't
  Beget belief. Or can't. Or won't.

And on a crest of ruby flames,
  Another list of seven names,
Whose carvings have been long forgot,
  Will sit amidst our trash and rot.

she said she
wanted
to share it
with you,
but now
you are on the
                                               outside
looking in.

You cannot share what is just for her.  You
try to
be happy
for she is
                 your world and your soul
you are war(med)
when the sun shines from within her.
“I won’t so
                       if you say no”,
but you can see
that she
speaks the words
from
                                                                ­                                    there.  
She is calling back
over her shoulder
hoping
you are still                                                            ­
                     smiling.
no matter,
she is
already too far away
to see.  You
try to
be happy
for her
be        cause
she is
free
and that is something
you vowed not to take from her.

So,
smile back
across the miles
that you find
                              between
you now.
inside you
just pray
that she will find
her way
             back.
Yes,
             back.

Will the light
of your love
be  
enough  
to lead her
back ?

Will she even face
this
way again?

straddling the cherry blossoms and the sea
my love awakes and comes for me

wind-swept hair and moonlight skin
a remnant of my mortal sin

of silent wood bearing heavy weight
my love's last words denied by fate

how taut the rope had to be tied
when the last moment arrived

and how deep the hatred buried there
ensconced in love and bound by air

down the cliff, the land between
death and life and more unseen

the moonlight saw my mortal sin
and there I waited, burning skin

until the tide returned to me
my love, still dead, came from the sea

The April night is still and sweet
With flowers on every tree;
Peace comes to them on quiet feet,
    But not to me.

My peace is hidden in his breast
Where I shall never be,
Love comes to-night to all the rest,
    But not to me.

Some days I am Ana's teacher, some days she is mine.
This morning, we look through her kitchen window,
the one she can't get clean, cobwebs massed
between sash and pane. The sky is blue-gold, almost
the color of home.
Ana, I say, each winter
I get more lonely. Both of us would like the sun
to linger as that round fruit in June, but Ana says
it's better to forget what you used to know...

What a surprise
i ****** up again
im causing my own demise
im so self destructive
i cant let myself win
i just putt off
and inevitably **** it
and throw it off.
Whats the point
lets just live it
this life
because theres not much more time
because i know i'm gonna die
the best part is
Ill know exactly when.
Im sorry i disappointed you
so many times
your the only people
i cared about
knowing too much
about my life

If there stood a single flower in the center
of a wasteland expanding eternally outwards,
more readily would i pluck it from its wary essence
than i would surrender my memories of you.

If death stood before me,
and i had yet one word of plea to continue my existence,
a proclamation of my love for you would grace the reapers ears.

If our world were plagued by a cancer,
and the stars fell from the sky i would not care.
I see more stars in your eyes than could ever exist.

I have heard poets proclaim their loves before.
In them they see the majesties and wonders
of our universe reflected in their ladies.
I walk the roads of earth, witnessing miracles
and spectacular beauties and every time
i am only reminded of you.