They say true happiness
Is like the sun,
Rising—a lark, masking the dark.

Perhaps, but such joy is fleeting…

What’s lasting emotion?
Star in black sky,
Content with flight, through spectral night.

Close your eyes

Your world, not extending
beyond the soft quilt under
your skin, unending


Soft ripples of cloth, and picturesque seams
Nothing here but
You, me, the sky, and soft dreams

I'll reach up and take the stars from the sky
If only to lay them at your feet
to place them in your hands
to bring light into those glazed eyes
or give a glow to a world so bland

and each one would be folded
into a beautiful origami castle
I, the lord, and you, the vassal
Or perhaps me as the king
and you as a queen, whichever
My gentle playmate.. which one is better?

I'm a majestic creature of the sky
You're an empty-faced child on a quilt
Each star shall be used as a stepping stone
so I might meet you in the place I built


Let us meet, as lovers, or
at least equals
on this starry floor

Give in. Give in.
To blackness shrouding out hope.
It matters not my earnings nor blessings,
Let pain, let bitterness swallow me whole.

Give in. Give in. Give in.
To my darkest hours of sorrow.
The spark of flames offer none to the blind,
Let hurt, let emptiness swallow my soul.

The color of thick smoke, but feathery like haze.

The sound off its wings reminiscent
Of today’s technology, humming persistent,

Its snout a needle, searching for veins.

I avert my eyes from the unpleasant theft
As though recoiling from alcoholic breath;

Though, when it bites, its midriff inflames,

To the sweet red hue of indulgence...
But never without consequence...

A person’s skin, left welted and maimed.

“Don’t touch it!” they scold,
But resolve grows old...

Scratching is all that I crave…

There’s something in the way he holds me.  It’s an inescapable void.
Me the weary traveler, he the siren.  I cannot turn away from his song.


There’s something in the way he falls short.  It’s a story, far too often read.
An ongoing battle, waged in my soul.  Labored, my psyche falls casualty.


There’s something in him I cannot tarnish.  It can’t be scrubbed from existence.  
A type of purity, only seen through my eyes.  Alluring, it defies my ethics.  



There’s something about him.  His grasp, his clutch…my running…it grows tiring.
Whispered prayers are all I have left…I see myself falling: I see my death.


I see the cycle
commence again.

Scorching was the color of toil,
As my feet carried me to and fro
And my hands carried the weight of service,
And my heart begging to be let go.

Alas, through the doors, a drifting breeze,
Filled with aromas, never before known,
And the cool colors of misty blues,
Instantly to her, all eyes were sewn.

I was greeted with the brightest smile,
Colors of a warm sunny hue,
But mystery shrouded her rosey cheeks,
A girl like her takes a table for two.

Yet there she sat, her company a book,
Although her eyes wandered often astray,
Most often at times, meeting mine in passing,
Lonely, they seemed to ask me to stay.

The words I wished I had spoken were left,
As a language conveyed through gestures,
And before I knew she was floating away,
Reminiscent of a distant messenger.

My eyes followed her step by step,
Off to the distant lapping of waves.
Shyly she joined, her soles with the water
She became one of the gifts God gave.

As I watched her blossom under the summer sky
Those deep colored eyes turned to me,
They said that she had no needs any longer,
And I seemed to know we would never be.

And she danced with the waves,
And the waves danced at her feet,

And she played in the sun,
And the sun played with her hair,

And her hair framed her face,
As the delicate portrait of nature’s beauty.