This poem was written in response to the senseless slaying of Kayla Chapman, a local convenience store clerk in Kelso WA who was brutally gunned down after complying with robbers requests for money and cigarettes. She was such a neat person.

A slight streak of purple,
A smile like a flower,
A warm friendly voice, In a late midnight hour,
You added so much, to our own little hood,
You brightened our nights, and made us feel good.
Now you're not here, I cannot believe,
Your bright light's been stolen,
For that we all grieve.

We won't let this stop,
We won't let this rest,
Till all those responsible, are put to the test.
Your life wasn't meaningless,
Your life was so dear,
A smile on a dark night, A welcoming ear.
I give you this poem
, from my heart, through my tears,
I'll never forget you Through all of the years.
God bless you Kayla Chapman, you touched my heart

I. i am in love with the hurricane of you
i fall asleep to the thought of your smile
and wake thinking of your eyes
i am rendered
speechless
by your beauty
my senses are full of you
and I could so easily be
consumed
by you.

II. i could spend all of my forevers
holding you tight
and tracing endless love letters
along the curve of your spine
i know the lines of
your face
like the back of my hand
the moon and stars are
nothing
compared to
you.

III. knowing you is a privilege
i'm not sure how i earned
but i feel so
lucky
to hold
you
to kiss
you
and to love
you.

Bleak the rays shattered through broken panes
life, dust, dust,  future and smoke
automobiles and gunshots solitary this hour
when screams rend the air, not my turn today -
no, not as yet. Mother, I want to rest my head
in your lap. Can I weep?

Cactus in my soul, I ask, Can I, all that I am?
Lust is the death of man. Gouge your eye that lusts.
Broken void of my afterdays, that mourn
like the wind on the dunes

         Mother, I am well. There is love, there is hope, light
         hidden like nuggets in piles of the dark.
         Mother, I must be well.

It was the other night. Nightmare in loop.
Shamed, stripped beaten violated.
I am in a well, deep pit, drained
of all the essence of light
I can hear your voice echoing with the ray
shattered tumbling down the walls

free, free I am the wind mourning in the dunes
can you tame the wind?

        In the depths, and in the deaths islanding life
        mirage of oases, Mother, I have found him,
        my Senor, to whom I give my ring

Violate me, visage of the abyss,
burn me, but can you find me?
beat me, chain me, but can you enslave me?
I am not here in these nerves and veins.
I am all of Augusta, America,
I fly in the Masts above the skies

Sweet Lord, I see you have deemed heaven
for me, no purgatory but here.
I accept, I surrender, I submit. To thy will.

            Mother, do not negotiate. I am strong.

Where in my naked body have you found me?
here, in these bruises, have your embers soothed?
I am the Lamb that does not cower.
I haunt your soul as guilt.
In what little's left of it.

He finds you in the catacombs where
I haunt the crypts that no vicar penetrates.
When all is lost, when death is certain at the sea,
there opens a way and I will walk out

           Mother, I am coming. Have faith, for faith maketh.
           I hold you here in my *****, smouldering pain,
           that gets me to wake every haunting day.
           Every day that brings the sound of darkness home.

*I fly in the Masts above the skies.
Tame me, I am the wind breaking the dunes.
Ilohi, lema sebachtani sebachtani