I'm sure by now
You have all felt
The unrest all around
A plague of darkness
Restless and ruthless
Lingering like gray clouds
A nagging dread
Seen in red
Through tired weary eyes
I can feel it in my bones
Shadows are passing by
.................

a foe's
fear fraught
that quilted
alight when
jay shed
her feather
here then
darkened delight
this may
tore where
a patch
was the
crocus but
wilted this
spring with
hallelujah she
direly met

Ecstasy mire in its own sorrow,
As if a ghost makes love to its shade.
The wooden door merely holds the knock;
Instead it punches out within the walls,
Dispersed as if a blow of clay.
There the sound hauls up a craft:
Foul of the wooden scent.
Just as it intertwines with cloisters,
The curves are lined into a  silhouette.
The mountainous fogs are sharpened,
The apex is buttoned and round.
The matter it is that shapes the core:
The mere marriage of soul and dust.
How a flesh can tease its craft,
As it gnaws on a clavicle(?)
The ghost sips on a river,
As if making love to its shade.

A beautiful night
With a Milky way up head
No terms and conditions
A synchronized pace
Virtuous silence
Easing the mind,
Scarlet memories
Consolidated reality,
Distance vanishes aside
Contentment calls
Nerves under alert
Unplanned dreams

Day, next
Jet lag on awake
Exploring the sense
Confessing Dream catcher
Being true to the self


Let’s never awake
Sunset to sunrise
Mastering an art,
Human compassion
Crafting dreams
One can be either way,
A reality or a dream.

The saddest tragedy of any passionate
artist is to leave their work
unfinished.

Creeping vines tangle on my legs
Dragging me away in the thorn bushes
I scream, I shout for help I beg
No one to hear, as my head rushes
****** and twigs patch up the cracks on my body
The place I am breathing, I see nobody
A craft art of black magic I sense strong
My path was blurring, then everything went wrong
What I do now, to overcome this dread
Already damaged body, I feel I am dead
Lord of light, the true one help me guide
Losen these vines, to your righteous word, I abide
A struggle of little, I'm off the vines
Trying to run, where the light shines
Taken back to the same path, where it all started
How my friends and I got parted
A dream of such is hard to forget
A friend I've lost...that was my only regret...


©sim