"Let it be red,
let it be ripe,
let it wield ruin..."

"Lick and taste the desire...for vengeance"

"The fire within, from the dragon's cradle,
lies and gives heat and pure breath, as spirit, wild.."

"Orb burned black,
Tender center attacked,
Pure blood refract,
See through pain
To the crack."

"Queeny damsel feigning need imperiled,
She whimpers sweetly, like a pixie's herald.
I spring to service, with comedic tripping,
All the while, behind that mask, her ruse is dripping."

I am a tree, grown in the shade, and today I stretched my branches to tremble for a while in the daylight. I came here to tell you good-bye, my beloved, and it is my hope that our farewell will be as great and awful like our love. Let our farewell be like fire that bends the gold and makes it more resplendent.
Selma did not allow me to speak or protest, but she looked at me, her eyes glittering, her face retaining its dignity, seeming like an angel worthy of silence and respect. Then she flung herself upon me, something which she had never done before, and put her smooth arms around me and printed a long, deep, fiery kiss on my lips

"My passion,
The purest flame,
It burns on untamed…."

           All these years have passed as I look to see
           Why my soul still carries forth this inner fire.
           The question I need to answer may be
           All that my life stands for, to know I am not a liar.

"A light in the dark; it refines my heart,          
Searing the dross, of so much lost, away…."

           It started in the eyes of a child, the essential self within.
           How my heart grew with desire, in the delight of a friend.
           The impulse to embrace another, to hear her laughter sing
           Has been a guiding star in heaven, all I want my life to bring.

"But the heated steel leaves traces of harms past…"

          My hope to please her led me to a fateful day
          When my world of desire was shattered.
          In broken pieces my heart lay and
          All my hopes no longer mattered.
          She turned on me with anger and I recoiled in shame.
          So exposed was I in that terrible moment
          And everyone could see my pain.    

"Memories marked by scars and burns…"

         The scar of that day I bear with me and it won’t recede.
         My search goes on to find a way out of a jail, I must be freed.  
         Will this moment ever be reversed,
         As polar extremes can realign?
         Or will my heart forever morn the shadow of her shine.

"….As each precious and painful one takes its turn
In the fires of my passion."

Morning flower, mild light,
misted and
diffuse scents drift
as kites.
Dew kissed and cool,
pale air through a
cloudy pool,
over our small patch
of earth.
The brushing grass gives
us a place to grow,
to search for
the heavens, like the rose.

You are so beautiful,
you are
nature's gift.
You are my sun,
beaming and raining
blankets of warmth,
but you also bring the mist.
The bond between us
will always endure storms
and sense shadow ghosts of
miasmic forms.
Sometimes thunder booms
and looms in the
distance while the space
between us sizzles with
white radiance.

But we plunge strong roots
and emerge from the
nurturing ground of love;
our love that will not pass
away but will
always spin and swim
in the vastness of space.
Our love
will always return
to the sun,
the warmth,
the life and spring well
of creation.

We will always grow here --
we will rise and die and rise
again --
on our little
patch of heaven.

In the corner of my room
stands a desk,
a humble desk beside the window.
Upon the desk lies a tome,
open and inviting, that
leads me on a path I will continue.
At the lonely hours of the night,
I cross the threshold to strange
and seminal worlds,
illum'd by simple candle light.

In truth, the tome casts its own glow:
it gives me its glimmering gems of wisdom,
its waning Moonstones of inspiration
and the precious treasures
of knowledge that emerge from the
shadow!

My soul seeks these pearls of
grand vision; I seek to
enrich my view
of our whirling, protective sphere,
to unearth the subtle shades
and hidden layers of
Her verdant frontier.

From my solitary desk,
windows of crafted prose and
elaborate description open to
a world rich in
wondrous experience!
These pages are portals
of the exploration the mind, the
discovery of the heart, and a
spirit of enduring resilience.

From the pristine pages of
my beloved books rise
mountaintop vistas on
our multifaceted world,
our diverse history
and our creative power.

And the light flows to me and around
my lonely room.