All that the sun gives shadows
Sketches with its desires,
The people within the dome,
The thirst it uncovers.

All that the shadows might
Hide in its deft solitudes:
The dying of the light
That burns in elongated spaces,
The cry of life,
The murky depth of regret.

All that the people try to fill
Makes known the hole inside,
The strength of fear,
The aloneness like a blameless
Lamb to daily slaughter.

All I see drives me mad,
The palpable wounds we carry,
The hope in oblivion
That tastes of the sweat of the Earth,
The Earth that devours.

All is a dream,
No, a nightmare vertical,
The wound of the walking days,
The feverish rush to nowhere,
No one cares awaken.

    Everything,
All that is in one's perception,
The acceptance of sleepwalking
Drives me to insomnia,
      Dying with life,
      It sleeps on me
      Like a dead truth.

You are the companion I speak with
     In the abyss, intimately.
In perfect spirals,
    And in the silence you are formed,
A silhouette of words draped
In dreams from the deepest dreams,
      Mistress.

        You trace a lineage
From the words of Eden
And guide my hand to forbidding hope.
      The echoes of my echoes
As my voice becomes your tongue,
      A polyhedral mirror
Reflecting a thousand embers of thought,
     Fire in the ink.

     We are alone-
Until we return to this place,
Back to this world,
Back to this house,
Back to this room,
And I am left in a tomb
With no lust for life,
I lose myself  to my flesh,
Alone in a sea of faces,
      Faces that see my naked being.

You inhabit the world
As a sculpture of the wind.
        
Your radiant forms,
Feast of light and shadows.

In the center of perception,
Watching you makes everything real.

Aroma of nakedness,
I devour your feast of forms.

Transfigurations, endless possibilities;
Your body is the the bridge over the abyss.

....And you became like water
That slipped between my fingers,
       there is no then,
Only a haunted now,
I move in the stillness of compacted time
     In the great masses of peoples
With the landscape unmoving
      Under dome of sky
Where regret crushes a tiny star,
      A memorial of light within light,
I am lost in your memory;

           Luminous woman,
          Golden haired woman
          Stretches herself over skies

We crossed the nocturnal
In a final dialogue of our bodies,
     We spoke fire like poetry
Enlaced in the verbiage of lovers,
     But words take final breaths,
    They distance themselves into echoes,
         we named new words
     And constellated sonnets
       Into the night sky;

      The living wound
      Cuts through my life,
       Be it your knife, my sacrifice

And in the kingdom of us
Where we crowned ourselves
In the momentary truth,
       All became our perception;
We created new worlds for our selves,
    We put the sun upon the sea
And set it to sail into our night,
       Everyday was a resurrection
as we governed our lives
     In an ecstatic harmony;

       To see your lovely forms,
            The sun throbs
       In the shadow of your living hour

     In forever I cast myself
        Unto gravitous time,
      Memories embody your form
     And the moment fulfills itself,
         Though the life is gone from me,
         The poem embodies forever,
             Immense as the look of your love.

When I am in the middle of a storm,
Or some cold overflowing,
I write the words to keep me warm,
I write the pain unknowing.

Home is in the verse
Where all the sadness combines,
I feel as a lifted curse,
And take back life that is mine.

When the winds carry sorrow,
I poetise the pain,
I no longer worry about tomorrow
Or wether it will rain.

So home is in the words
And I go away to life,
I can become a flying bird,
The metaphor flying away from strife.

Where has time gone,
It is zero hour,
At the precipice of ages,
Aging and it won't stop.

I see myself younger
In the ocean's reflection
Just below, I would
Jump to him for wisdoms sake.

I am at the edge,
Where ever this might be,
Sidesteps, tip toeing,
Between yesterday and nowhere.

I can remember in my youth
When my friends and I would
Hunt in our backyard with pellet
Guns in hand and the thought
Of a fat dove we might cook.

The first time I held that knife
And took it out of his stomach,
I never knew how the joining
Of the two could shock me,
I almost let go,
I held on long enough for him to
Collapse, I ran and never looked back.

I had never killed a bird before,
Unknowing how it's flailing wings
Would affect me, so powerful,
Fear in its eyes, I knew he wanted
To live.  

I had never stabbed a man before,
He had no wings to flutter,
But as I ran,
I knew that bird wanted to live,
I feel a guilt over me
When I can't tell if that man wanted
The same.

Your hand holds between its fingers
The nocturnal glow of a crescent moon,
The touch that holds,
The kiss that stays;

The kiss is a phosphorescent angel
By a sleepwalking lover,
Hold: close as souls can be,
Spiritual dawn of lovers;

The kiss dresses mountains with white veils
And adorns the trees with gentle air,
Holding through seasons,
Naked, at the precipice infinite;

We are born through one another,
Holding breath under prophetic stars,
Held by a kiss,
Dissolving into the lips.

Kiss, hold, our love inventing love.

An idea forms;
      We become the stillness in motion,
Between seeing and making,
     Contemplation or action,
The words cause us to act.

      We dare give eyes to the idea,
And pen to paper becomes
     A resurrection of presences,
Poetry,
      Like life writing itself,
A day becomes dateless,
     Life lights up these words,
We walk the path of inspiration,
     Truth lived and suffered ,
          Shared rage
           Shared passion,
              Shared abyss,
                 Shared love.....

In the end of the verse
The poet transfigures
Inspiration into incarnations,
Given as a sacrifice of self:

All that remains are the ghosts,
We are siblings in the void.

Petrified,
        Obsidian stones,
Fire understood,
      Superfluous verbiages;
The mangled butterfly absorbed by light,
       Hope is born at the tongue,
Confirmation contorted,
     Clarification of the crystalline cries;
  In the whirlpool of the first
Swirling at the tip of the tongue
     Chanted in a litany of animalistic
Nature,
       There is only a man,
Singing solar solstice,
     Staring into sun stars
Splitting solitary shadows,
     The end of the beginning,
Man and fires
Speak the dust,
       Tears of the evocative death,
Rebirth in memory,
Memorial in melancholia,
Misty eyed men mention losses,
      Speak the grief,
Speak the rage,
         Man that is man,
Tongue of emotional images,
                Speak as the first word,
A tree of names,
      Yes, the word,
Words,
       The poem everlasting
Longing to be unspoken.