Annoying thoughts can color dreams,
which proselytize their wanton schemes;
Intriguing worlds come into play,
while clouds of perception waste away.

The doldrums of this mournful scene,
can shatter hopes of a life serene;
A struggle lasts beyond the days,
in melancholy moments here to stay.

How do the clouds relieve our pain,
in subtle spaces which shall remain ?
Among the woolly white of fluff,
destructive signals call our bluff.

How soon the notions that perceive,
a chance to grow, a chance to grieve;
For when the night calls to the clouds,
it wraps the daylight in its shroud.

~
connected particles settling

as evidence

of the blissful graze

the brush with chemistry

the aftersome

and there the flashover

reframing time

by the warm places

one isolated touch sends you to
~

By the time I was 23
Mom and Dad were
both dead.
I know it sounds
strange, but I felt
like an orphan;
like Oliver Twist.
Real love has
eluded me ever since.
like the goldfish in
the tank
at the Chinese restaurant,
when I reach in and
try to grab one.
Growing up, I thought
my parents would live
forever; of course that's
absurd, but even back then
I was a dreamer.

I was there
it was real
I breathed
and sweated
as each moment
did its power peel--

my ground
I stood
I didn't yield
despite the wounding
in calm acceptance
myself I managed
to heal--

life is lived
much in suffering
despair I would not-
my equanimity
nothing nor anyone
could ever steal