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Turoa Oct 2021
One does not scale then claim
the ancient mountain

Nor by pretension tame the sea

Sate the deep fire’s searing fountain

Noble, though futile attempts be.



Blood, sweat stained, predatory

Alone infernum, lux ignis I stand.

I fight with no hope for victory

Mine crimson staccato metronome,
life’s sweet stain on desert sand.



Dispassionate, Fire’s breadth consuming all

Whilst ever hollowing from within;

Cracked lips cachinnate the brazen gall,

Endeavoring as healers’ medicine.



Adrift till the last ember chokes,
emptied all of malice and slaughter,

Peace be that last repose, my nox aquis,
to be embraced by night upon the water.
Turoa Oct 2020
Like the horse
Has his rider,
The moon
Has it’s sky,
So a man
Has his loneliness,
Mistaken as pride.
Turoa Oct 2020
I’ve seen it 3 times in my life

Once by accident, when I was very young,

Once by choice, on a spit of land along an old road you’d never know unless you’d been there,

And now, every time I look in a mirror
Turoa Oct 2020
I came to a door
To visit once again
To almost feel warmth
Happiness, therein.

But I’ll return again,
And again turn
To spur saddle and thorn
That none come to fear me
None can my name mourn

Selfishness or not
I turn to darkness once more
Preserving that hope ever present
Held just out of reach,
The shadow of a whisper
An unknown presence
On the far side of a door.
Turoa Nov 2019
Happiness I've found
Crossing seas mountains and skies
For the simplicity of feeling
A future in your eyes
Together we'd suffer ecstacy
Pain, passion, exquisite tears
Longing, but no longer alone
Between a kiss spanning years
Turoa Oct 2019
He came to me for solace
Relief
Shelter from pain
He thought he'd found brotherhood
Companionship
A means to shed
One's own shame

But instead he found me
Bitter honesty, truthful but cold
Like raw ore to the smith
In my care
He will suffer
Before he is gold

I stole something from you today
Something you'll very soon know
The last temptation of relief
That iron grip on control
The great escape
Your last thread of hope

You'll think I've betrayed you
Wrong or right I don't know
But in its place I've left something
One more day
To live
One more day
To grow

Perhaps I will fail you,
I honestly don't know
We are not that different, you and I
Maybe we are
At least I don't think so

But you'll understand
What I said when we met
What I think and believe
My reasons, my friend.
Unravel, unweave

Pieces of the picture
You'll see in due time
You said, my hands are *****, when we met
And now see why I said, so are mine.
I had an experience today, a friend of mine, a vet whose lost a lot recently.. I know the average a few years ago was 22 veteran suicides per year and I can only assume that's grown. Please be cognizant of others and the battles each individual faces, look out for your brother's in arms and don't be afraid to do the right thing if it gets the help they need.
A misplaced firing pin and a wellplaced phone call might be all it takes.
Turoa Sep 2019
I Ponder the words
     Oher writers have wrote,
To speak volumes in syllables
Understand feelings in notes

I wonder can I compare
To the madness of Poe
Share the wonder of Silverstein,
Shelley's dispare,
Or the screams of Van Gogh?

Can I write myself Treetops  
Frost's trails traveled by
Could I create my own Iliad
Command with Tennyson  
Or on Stoker's bat wings rise,

I am no one too many
Someone too few,
Though my voice is unheard
       Painful my artform,
Still I shall try
Paint pattern and scribe
My spark in the darkness
My dream I'll pursue.
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