There was a fire in the water..
On the mirror lake..
It was a reflection..
It was the only time the fire could make love to the water..
Without ever burning or dowsing one another..
Just a beautiful reflection of an impossible releationship..

There is the lake,
its undulating softness
reaching out soothingly,
and it's jarring
how much it
feels like you.

There’s a silverback haze
on the shallow face
of the Rockwell Ridge
folded brow
puzzled chin
and dark hollow eyes
keeping watch
over the lilies
and crane flies
and will of the wisp

Rust brown ravens
and fisher kings
delight
in the reeds off north bend
(chased by the terraced streams!)
youth blades engrain
on the favoured
and historic
Banka Memorial

Mustard
and pumpkin skies
are clipped
by a call from
the resident loon
the sounds of Buddha Bar
piercing the silence
and shaping the afternoon chord

It’s a time to make way (stream side)
seems the anuran are courting

i would like to die by the lighthouse.
pere marquette in the dead of night
the walk there peaceful,
as they are my last steps
after all.
and i won't have to speak,
or sing, or dance,
or flush my face out of fear or ridicule,
of embarrassment,
but i'll flush my face
with the waters of the waves
sweeping up into the rocks
and down goes my breath,
my last few breaths.
i've a few (many) pills
concealed in my pink jacket pocket.
i've a few (many but not so many)
catfish
swimming by to say hello,
to say farewell.
and with my last blink of my eye,
the moon is in line
with the lighthouse
and my star will forever sparkle,
i hope.
and the beacon passes o'er my body,
the light of an absent watchman,
it's just us, me lifeless and the beacon radiant.
no one to bother,
poke,
**** at me,
at my mind.
searching outside of their own minds
for answers to their own hearts' questions
to which i respond
a blank stare, for the lake is in my eyes.
water filling up, ready to be unleashed
later tonight rejoining with the waters
of the big blue lake and
my emptiness will be in harmony
with the moon's lonliness
and the black sky's vastness
and the bleak, rusty red
of my favorite old lighthouse
all muddled together, a sickly brown...
no, gray. no, i don't know...
colors don't matter at night
when you can't make them out anyways.
same goes for when you're dead.
i hope the stars shine for me,
but when the night is cloudy,
i can trust my beacon,
my lighthouse,
my waves,
to give me peace, rest,
rhythm,
in my most chaotic times.
i suppose they drew me in.

Cuz I like crooked teeth,
And freshly washed sheets,
And mugs that fit well in my hands,

But sometimes that just doesn't matter,
When depression has stolen your
plans.

And I like warm nights,
And summer's on swings,
Or having a day at the lake,

But when you feel like you're dying,
All the things you love,
Dissipate.

Cuz sometimes even,
Nice teacups,
And music,
Can't change the people you hate,

Because everytime,
I look in the mirror,
I see something i,
Want to change.

Moonlight shines upon the lake
Darkest black and cold it's waters
Silver ripples running, flowing
Slowly, gleaming through the night
Here the fog is breathing poison
Unnoticed it transforms whoever
Dared to come a few steps closer
Enticed by bewitching sight

Morning will make magic vanish
In the deep it hides and waits for
One that here belongs from now on
That runs far but can't escape
Nothing else will bring him solace
Warmth of sun will burn his skin
All he hears is genlte whisper
Of the silver painted waves

Resonating haunting rhythms
Overflow heart with strange longing
That one day will surely bring him
Will return him, to stay there
By serenity enveloped
All fades into swirling darkness
As the waters close above him
Leaving shattered moonlight trail

The weight of you drags  me down.
I try to swim but you force me to drown.

You hold me under the surface of my depression by my throat.
Suffocating me by your once gentle hands I could fight you but I don't.

I let you chain me up and I let you drag me down.
Because even without the weight of you I would surely drown.