In the name of love..
in the name of   the Value
you bring to the family

In the name of  just how  good
you can make Grandfather feel
on that worn-out, old brown chair

What were you when he started...  four?
He said he loved you
He said this is what love looks like

And you took it into your little mouth

And in an instant
a sweet little, innocent child
became an un-feeling, little product

Of the un-feeling  love of man

I truly think our souls
Are eternally intertwined.
I will find you
And love you
In every lifetime.

This...  or that..
the pull of this world
and its long supply
of disappointment,  is strong

I shall Reframe my Journey
almost continually

There is a swirl..  a rising
line, taut..

before limply settling
back down onto the water

There are moments  in time
that live forever

There is a time within
those moments;
I never truly had
the chance  to live

There is a Journey to reframe


I will find my life again,  
   somewhere

Buried deep
within that framework

Was it a bid adieu, or merely the beginning of an infinite rendezvous? A quiet vow, sealed in silence, to wander back into the refuge of dreams where our moments linger—beneath the timeless tree that sheltered our whispers, on those solitary benches, along endless paths where our footsteps etched fleeting eternity, as if echoing our own unfinished story. To trace the delicate decay of fallen roses, decipher the faded whispers of “miss-you” notes, and relive the quiet intimacy of entwined hands. To seek the warmth of embraces and rediscover the timeless rhythm of those coffee-laden moments, where losing ourselves in one another was the only truth we ever needed.

Years’ worth in our days swirl in our thoughts of lovely hands clasped in ours with no resolve of ever letting go.

Though the fates and sanguine melancholy conspire to break the bonds nothing can keep this sight from being enthralled

shall he, happiness dancing waltz with the sea, ever forget?

The tempest-swept shore of unyielding grace remains true to the beacon, be it in the peaks or prairies; a promise,

no matter how trampled still blossoms without the acquiescence of seasons, be they winter or spring,

until the day a tombstone is offered and a coat rack for weariness to hang,

no smiles will eternally be wasted on a frown as is with fear will be on Pennywise the clown.

We are here, and we are now until we become yesterday, our hearts unbowed

And yet, long after light has left times eyes, and last fogging breath has been drawn,

the echoes resound, love, unyielding, seared into the skin of eternity.

Strands of flesh, a promise, binding lives that once strobed like starlight, the universe chants with shared joys, sorrows, and dreams.

For every stumble, every fracture, every tear that pelted our time, we rise, reforged in the fires of devotion’s heat.

Love is no fleeting gale but the tide that shapes continents, despite the world’s cruel dissonance, harmony prevails.

And when the final curtain falls on this fleeting stage, let it be known we did not merely survive but thrived, kindled.

Everything is  conscious
and a moment lasts forever .
☆
The sky is painted on
cardboard ,
stretched out by the hand
of God ,
while sawdust covered ground
moves on wheels to the Mouth of Infinity .
☆
I can't remember my lines ,
but speak them anyway ,
A manuscript that has written itself .
☆
Love , loneliness , ambition , pain ,
an **** of fireworks
on a dreamer's dark night .
☆
While overhead , machinery
of the celestial stage begins
to shift .

In the winter i'll come
I'll come to you in the winter -
                                            In the winter I'll come,
Like a flake, i'll fall in your palms,

In the winter i'll come,
Galloping on the white wind, in my hair, to hold you,
                                    With the horizon waving,

Don't go, don't go,
I will come, don't forget me,
I am lost among strangers,
                            I'll come, wait for me -
Like a tear, i'll drop from the sky
                    to kiss your warm cheeks,

Whisper to me again - eternity,
                                      I'll come, wait for me,
In the winter, i'll fall,
                    Like a flake, i will fall in your palms
I'll melt

In that golden hour
when memories fall
like photographs from
some upturned valise ,
☆
Covered in esoteric symbols
like the record of some
bizarre travelogue through
magic , time and space .
☆
Faces shimmer in the
cool night air .
Those ghostly lanterns
then disappear in a
mist ,
☆
While forty-two saints read their lives .
The Knave , a Sleeping Princess
and the King of Hearts ,
all gone now and
dust stops their mouths .
☆
But in another century
blazing with the fire of
a thousand suns ,
then giants walked the earth
and made all time their own .
☆
Though now , as I sit here
in this solitary room
marked by time's passage
and the romance of decay ,
☆
They seem to live still ,
more vibrant and bejewelled
than the phantoms of daylight
and their prisons of the mind .
☆
In dreams they speak to me
in foreign tongues
and in curious manner , like angels
they confound my understanding .
☆
In daytime they leave messages
and strange symbols ,
in numbers and
words that are not there .
☆
The Moon is shining bright .
Their voices sing in the wind .
Everything is just a story
and all of it is real .