It is a time to bring
the pages out in the open,
to open this book
and to allow it
to be read.
i don't expect well wishes,
or polite words exchanged.
all i ask,
is do not be cruel.
this heart has been crumbled,
like forgotten homework,
and stretched out, and rewritten.
but the wrinkles still remain,
and the words are hard to see.
but they can be read,
if the page allows.
you just no longer have the eyes to read.

I'm on the Empire State Building.
The air has never felt so thin,
my clothes so light,
almost weightless in the way they fit.

It's rush hour.
Below me, the bustling pace
of the Big Apple. New York City
never sleeps, so they miss things often.

It's a Sunday morning.
I can hear the bells...
They're louder than usual today.
Is there a wedding?

Everything's black.
The dresses, suits, the ties, the back of my eyelids.
I'm at the peak of the city that never sleeps.
The angels have begun descending.
I'm ready.

Tonight the snow falls again like the cold within my heart
All hopes of spring gently washed away under Winter's Fall
The cold, soothing, seething
The Healing reigns of spring, now stains my heart,
My tears river, in time reborn.
This whirling landscape screaming out my broken serenade to the ghost that I once knew,
Before me, Before you . . .
My heart within winter's clutches even as my hand grasps towards it's rebirth into spring,
The searing winds and the numbing cold,
Pain and comfort both.

turning leaves inspire
renewal: the beautiful
hope of a good death.

Reflecting upon the ambitions of my youth,
What happened to the man I never became?
My roots, once anchored firmly, no longer sit
In countryside soil, oh dear, what a shame!
For my heart, town-life has staked its claim.

Whenever viewing those years through the *****
Lenses of memory’s filmy glass, I can always see
The discarded ideals to which I never could
Aspire, my failure, such a huge relief for me,
Not having to face the music, of a rural melody.

I seemed fairly happy then, driving a tractor.
Making a living from having, a field to plough.
The simple pleasure, a reward I had forgotten,
Somehow ashamed, as if I had broken a vow.
Or maybe just guilty, because, I’m happier now.

Auden had said. “You spend twenty five years
Learning to be yourself.” Is this to fully mature?
The wisdom of age wiping my lenses clean.
Seeing an unsullied panorama afresh, is a cure,
The man I’ve become, at ease, at peace, secure.

The Time has come for Sacrifice.
High and wasted on the night's fumes,
The ****** gives her heart,
letting it bleed.
Drip.
     Drop.
          Silence.
Now, she lies there, sleep deprived,
the Early Morning Sunlight
streaming through
the cracked window panes.
The broken heart makes no more
signs
     of
          Life:
NUMB.
Crushed and Ground into stained red dust
by the pressure of
welling tears.

Her eyes, open, seem VACANT;
once shining bright and dark
are
now Dull.
The sheets of the bed
spread out
in Waves
     and
          Ripples
beneath her,
disturbed.

Let me ask what your heart truly desires.

A question you've never been asked.

Take a minute, don’t rush your answer.

I can wait forever if you can't.

But all I want to know,

one thing before I go,

is,

can you see me in your future?

Sharing things you've never shared before?

Loving like you’ll never love again?

Wanting like you've never wanted more?

Can you see me in your future?

Selfish me, wanting all your answers,

desires you've hid away from the world,

a world where you feel all alone.

But even though you've sealed your heart up tight,

locked the doors and threw away the keys,

still I’ll ask you,

can you see me in your future?

Even with my own battered heart,

shattered from several tossed remarks,

I ask, will I be enough?

Enough to start your heart again?

To unlock your doors and open wide,

the heart you hide away inside?

What could it hurt?

The thought of you and I?

Because for me,

I can see you in my future.

old skin must be shed;
peeling
painful
the storm of darkness
after which there is blessed light

Doused
             in living fire
                                 I burnt to ash
                                                       From the ash
                                                             ­              Hope springs
                                                         ­                                        An eternal ring

I stand on the dawn of a new existence,
Dawn of a new
Me.
The way it's been
Battling
the way it will be
Past,
Playing peek a boo with
Now.
Soft breeze hitting my shoulder
Feels just like then.
Another breeze carrying scent,
Now I'm there
Cutting lilacs from the bush to bring
Inside.
One more breeze,
Twisting and dancing with song,
Me floating back to a passenger seat
Singing along, silly and safe
Smile from then moving my lips into the same
Position.
Strangers passing, some notice
Guessing what could be making this
Solitary woman smile to
Herself.
Wind picks up again,
This time it gently pushes a
Wisp of cigarette smoke.
I can see him exhale it, between
Fits, rampages.
Watch it leave it his lips and sit
Stale in the air
Taunting me, teasing me, slithering into my
Baby lungs
Trying to force me to cough, disturb
Him another reason to
Rage.
Sibling breeze tickles my ear with a man's voice
"Breathe, just breathe"
Back in that room again, radio his co-conspirator,
Hiding my screams with
Prodigy.  
"Breathe baby" one hit wonder, one hit noone remembers, except me. Thier one hit forever
Entwined with my one virginity,
Stolen by a boy
Breeze has cooled,
It kisses my shoulders, icy
Lips. I feel snow creeping down my neck,
Feel my eyes frantically looking,
Feel my throat trying to yell,
Amazed I can't even get death right,
Wondering what damage was done in the
Descent.

I'm home, in the now.
Body still damp from shower,
Droplets of water fall from wet hair,
Run down neck
Dissappear under shirt.
Cut off the fan,  enough breeze for one day
News is on, weather up next,
Tomorrow will be warm and windy.
I sigh, curl under blankets, ready for
Retreat into sleep
In the morning I wake, ready for sleepy entanglement.
I make love to the past,
Kiss it goodbye

Dawn turns to day and freshness
Begins.