Your mischievous gaze
your dark brown eyes, not as shiny as they should be
tell a very sad tale
straight from your heart

I offered you an
Olive branch...

Being with your broken
soul, whilst trying
to repair my own
was just hurting us more

I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission;
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.

I am a ball, I am a cell,
I am the will of higher selves;
I’m a layer of the kernel,
Flying on seat "57L";
I’m a letter that was sent to mail,
Set outbound when rings the bell.

I am a curve, I am twirl,
I am sustained motion still unfurled;
I’m necessity in the system;
Of absorption I am the emblem;
I’m a branch of fractal downward;
Of struggles past I ain't no award.

I am a beast, I am a fork,
I am a breach through inert soil;
I’m a head of the hydra snake;
Consolation in all of mistakes;
I’m the blood of the wounded,
The brain of memories faded.

I am a blink, I am a cause,
I am the storm after the pause;
I’m the pity for the angered;
Whose duties have been tempered.
I'm the eye that's about to drool
And the tooth that's bound to fool.

I am silver when I am gold,
Yes I am pale when I grow bold,
Like an etching on a clean surface
I'll be sanded just to be varnished;
I'm the most certain of prediction,
Foreseeable beyond provision.

I am ludicrous, I am lukewarm,
I am commitment amidst cold wars;
I’m the frontier around the form
And the earth that drowns the worm;
Of victory I am some defeat,
Accomplishment left incomplete.

I am a meter, I am a yard,
I am pain that causes no harm;
I'm the scepter of the peasant,
The suffering in the pleasant;
I'm everything that's ever been said,
All that's forgotten once it's been read.

I am a sin, yes I am sought,
I am a child yet to be mourned;
I’m resistance to the inevitable,
Recurrence of the unstable;
I’m the distance of departures,
The first minutes of final hours.

I am a beat, I am a clock,
I am a rhythm of some sort;
I’m a carrier on a mission,
The byproduct of an invention;
A battery that is being charged
And depleted low and large.

The Drama Queen...

When your Crown of Thorns turns out to be nothing more than a branch of a tree.

The leaf latched onto the thin branch near the brook.
But even leaves, as simple as they are, know when to let go and trust the wind to take them.

Not unknown nor unseen,
but not as conquering hero came.
Not crowned with many crowns,
with unknowable Name,
but as Branch, on Beast that spoke,
departs from the Father, to serve,
with his Body, to pay the Bride's price.
And when in the fullness of time,
on the tenth of the first month,
with a blast of angelic trumpets,
He shall return as King
with Bride and twelve Princes.

We are woven in the majestic
                      verses of past voices.
Made silent by time,
           but etched within the fallen trees
that hold these voices
                                      within them.

For every moment is a page turned.
           A collection of reflections that
                                             when read,
collect within a picture  
           of every ballad concealed within.


So many compassions of emotion are bonded
                                                 within sentences.
When a tree falls it makes no sound.
But the words its carries afterwards,
make those inspired to reach higher
                            any branch that soared before it.

Trapeze artists
Swinging on a denuded branch
Colony of bats

i savored
what bloomed
on your lips
then climbed
a tree of your words
barren to the last branch

They’re just walking by
Idle sticks and logs and twigs
Wayward trees passing to and fro
In their forests of isolation
The birds don’t sing there
If they do
Then each tree hears its own tune
My tree is cut
Just a stump
Just my luck
I have no birds to sing anyway
Accept for this one wayward jay
It’s less of a song
More of an ironic cackle
Laughing at my stump
Chained to this rusted shackle
There used to be a song
Sweet like sugar
Bitter like sole cinnamon
But harmonious
Lovely
Divine
Mine
Now I’m just walking by
An idle stick
A log
A twig
A wayward tree stump
Just my lonely luck