He said to me:

let's have a conversation--

I should let you know beforehand

with regard to opinions, I am very stubborn

you're just a ghost roaming these halls
that i don't walk down anymore
my favorite crypt keeper in a vacant mausoleum
they'd call it haunted if it was ever anything at all

maybe you're in the dust that
shakes from the old books,
coating these lungs of mine and
staying with me after i leave
or maybe you're the wax on old candles
waiting for the flame to reignite
so you can melt into a puddle all over my floor

the ways of men
pondered
tears spilled
on the pillow
a poem written
as a prayer
so please
I beg
let me sleep
now
peaceful
please

© J.C.

this poets soul
is sowing seeds
for loved ones lost
for unseen deeds
in the quiet times
dappled with sighs
dusted in pale light
are pre dawn skies
Mr Tui sings
he spreads wide
his wings
in upward flight
to the Puriri tree
I think of you
I dream you are free
toes mulled
in a turning tide
undertow pulled
the tears we cried
for you
I glimpse your eyes
crystalline blue
so briefly seen
caught in sea foam
sands washed
renewed pristine
I let go like the sun
& long for home


J.C.

Taking her in is a wonderful thing
No longer does peace rhyme
with my suffering-
Today it’s rational fears;
A test, eating well-
Going off to college and
dying off to hell-
Now peace is my room in the morning light
It’s Baroque chords and high marks and
skirts tight-
It’s comfort, and people,
And especially her,
It’s her bold mouth and walking hand in hand
The same hands under her shirt-
And finally do I know what life’s meant to mean.
And finally do I realize peace does not rhyme with
suffering.