I want you to know how I feel
but my words don't reach the extent necessary
to let you know what is real
that I want to be your emissary
but I act so wary
like an actuary
with a knack for staring
judging passing cherries
as cassowaries.

My frustration grinds through a mouthful of teeth
because of the fountain of heat
that lies beneath
my sword in sheath
melting through its protection
bleeding from the rejection
of your outward inflection
thwarting this coward's intentions.

I miss you but I don't even know you
I want to kiss you and hold you
but the issue to that bold move
is that I don't know if it'd go through
like Father Time's sand
passing through my hands
******* I'm an old man
from your cold canned gold jam
I'm sold bland then soul slammed
by Conan
The Barbarian
in my solarium
solitary terrarium
where nary a sum
equals more than one.

Images we hang carefully on the wall,
hung carefully so it might not fall.

Birds of December,
carrying memories of you,
I don't need reminders,
instead send by wings, God's angels, so I can be there with you,
I'm a nobody to anybody,
I'm forgotten, already gone,
down on the floor, face down,
crying out to the Lord,
to make their reality the truth,
I'm a nobody to everybody, in this place,
beggin' you Lord to take me soon,
no need to end this with, 'amen', because it won't end, until the Faithful Amen sends me through.

Distant dreams and memories
Lost opportunities it seems
To the things that could have been
Reflecting on the past at half mast
Easier with hindsight to look at what might
A contestable question mentioned
How far do we plan with conviction
Experience paves the way
Flicking through past sections
Sets direction led astray on a page
Which ways do we cultivate
To lead the order of our day

Paddle amongst the dark
Masked shadows clasped in sharp arches
Explore your flaws to experience more
Question conceit as preachers reach deep
Shots drawn before dawn
Chasing bright sunlight gilded aside
Brought up to rise again
Our lives repeatedly warned of descent
Air still warm as we sit forlorned
Sleight of hand connections tight
Observe the signs confined in mind
Silent whispers guided from behind
Focused awe channels through us all
Do we care to share energy
Too few view the transference of form

A crack in my mirror, right in the centre
splits my image into a thousand pieces
versions of myself never quite realised
all that I am and all that I could be
each fragment a glimpse into a path not chosen
fingers reaching out to touch the glass
dipping into the reflection, a pool of possibility
if only I could crawl through the looking glass
or break on through to the other side
would I miss this place
am I happier there