Empty words -
That’s what it is.
An answer
To something more concrete than a dream,
More true than a hope.

Not empty, -
Void of meaning.
Full instead -
Overbrimming with potential
A hook to reality.

Those are the words
Of my mind -
Rigid and tense,
Controlling, compelling,
Raw and imperfect.

But they are empty
And they are me.
Acceptance is love,
As it is pride.

To love me
Is not to pick and choose
But to be and
Believe.
Embrace.
Accept.

I feel my pain, I live it,
I am it.
Here I am.

I am also more.
Empty words,
Full with life.

An answer.

As the storm sets in,
the deep scales
of ocean clouds
shimmer faces and
mystical life.

As the waved wind
tickles my face,
sounds play off my ear,
but bow to the breaks
of thunder.

Yet dim glows of lanterns
reflect from my eyes,
warming the storm’s uncertainty,
welcoming the life of rain.
It is familiar.

it's poetic, i think, how the
burning of cigarettes
creates a subtle glow at nightfall.

every inhale, the light burns brighter.
a smoker will
hold
the smoke for a second or two and then
release it to the sky.

habitual and addictive, just so, is
living yesterday when today is
bleak,
self-inebriation by clinging to things that once made you happy
instead of

releasing

and taking a new breath.
it's just a subtle glow,
on and
off,
beautiful, but not meant to last.

I heard your song today.

A melody that tricks my ears,
And tells me you are here.

It's sings a cloud of emotive words,
And my ears betray my body,
 My heart wanders burned memories,
 And my eyes cry tears again.

I heard your song today,
And it told me you were here.

If only songs sang truth,
And hearts were made of iron.

I sat one day at the table and remembered,
Because my coffee was too sweet,
The time of walks and wonderlands,
And where we used to meet.

To simple stars and great big clouds,
All troubled dreams we'd shout,
And then we'd run by house and stream,
Till our sweet daylight had run out.

"Time catches up to all of us" --
You nagged me, and I'd jeer,
But now a man has loved dearly and lost,
A flower he held so near.

My dear, you died so suddenly,
So swiftly, and then gone,
But at home our flowers were not yet watered,
And your memory pushed me on.

And so for both of us I now carry dear,
Our old and aged sweet smiles,
I'll pour sugar to my coffee, my hand will slip,
And I'll see the girl for whom I'd have walked miles.

Let me be right,
In the waves of words,
Sent off to far-setting destinations.
That the ripple they begin is
Beautiful

Let me be right,
That you heard my love,
From my spoken heart.
And not false backdrops;
My lies

Let me be right,
That you are beautiful,
More valued than my own sight.
Shy not from my sincerity;
My sacrifice,

For I once heard you didn't believe me.
*Do you now?

i am at peace
in the petals of a lily,
the violet-stained sheets
comforting my uncertainty.

the flower grows
through dependence and effort -
the heart’s pain and wreckage,
my pain in blooming.

my neck is strong,
Stern and firm
that bends with dedication
to honest beings

I am.

they told me
it would be too late
to see the midnight stars

and they told me
not to wait because
the stars would never change

and they shamed me
when i did not budge
but sat with my friend Hope

yet now i am grown
and perhaps i should tell them
that at midnight
the stars proved them wrong

It's quite easy, knowing I will return,
To gracefully bid adieu.
O, had you heard my lonely thoughts,
Of living one moon *sans vous

Everything
Is made up to be deep and difficult:

Like the aura of a lost lover
        In your basin of memories,
Like the lips of a man
        You'd kiss from your tiptoes,
And the love you gave out
        But now have misplaced in the dark.

But our simplicity is
Forgotten:

Like the soft cherry blossom
        From a tree convinced it's spring,
Like the vivacious roasts of coffee beans
        Stirred soft by cream and sugar,
And the instinctive embrace of a friend
        Not caring if you want it.

Why then, can't love be made simple?

wake up, my dear friend,
lift your eyes to the sun,
because i know you've been sleeping
in heartbreak.

i'll tell you, my dear friend,
that the kisses you want,
and the heart that you need,
hide right behind the shades
of your darkened room.

i promise, my dear friend,
darkness does you no good,
for who, in the dark, will you see,
but not, in the warmth of the sun?

how can you say, my dear old friend,
"all i love is now gone"?
        rip down your shades!
        right there in the sky!
my friend, he sees what you see!
it's the dear old sun.

so much can travel, i'll tell you right now,
in the raging, sweltering, heat of the sun,
these rays are not weak, no, they'll reach you indeed,
for this weather was sent with love,
by the man that you need.

what distance do you speak of*, my friend,
how can you still cry,
if the man you think gone,
is right outside?

why is the star so bright
when darkness is at its finest?

the sky embodies
and envelops
the perception of the wind

ever strong
ever passionate in force

the stillness is loud
the sound is still

and stargazing is
eternal

Ruled rays push through
the shade and shades of home,
painting with geometric shapes
shards of divided sun.

With lines like verses
and basins to dip in,
the light decorates and divides
and invites me to play.

We slip through prisms
between colors alongside none,
finding shining members of my mind
that broke through heavy shadows.

By this morning
there are no limits on shape or play,
as dark edges of fears and feelings
give way to dancing rays.