You see right through me,
as though through a glass.

Unnoticed, ignored, invisible.

But I have flesh and blood,
I feel love, joy, pain like you.

Unnoticed, ignored, invisible.

You forget my name, repeatedly
mention someone else's

Unnoticed, ignored, invisible,

you tall a lot of smack
but when it boils down
you've hurt someone
you can never have back

Insensitivity can be forgiven
but only if its recognized,
apologized for.

Unnoticed, ignored, invisible.

My heart is as big as the western skies
but even a pin hole can drain such as I

I deserver better treatment than this
I demand better treatment than this
In the end, I will get better treatment
that this.

Unfortunately for you, respect goes both ways.
and I do not give what i don't receive.

I wont let you treat me as Invisible.

JCM 2011 ©

6/19/2011

Gently, softly, strong, powerful
giving life to the immovable.
As a puppet with an invisible puppeteer
moving graceful arms, suspended in air.
Running through its leafy green fingers
shaking its sleepy limbs, bending, twisting.
Rippling like a pianists hands over dormant keys
gone as quickly as it appeared.


JCM 2011 ©

My beating heart, torn to shreds
beats only for you.

Once you were,
the reason for its beat.
now you are the reason,
for its agonizing defeat.

How can one muscle,
hold on so long.
even when from my sight,
you have forever gone.

Tears have dried,
but my heart still bleeds.

Every moment from which
you are missing,
I feel myself tearing.

Falling, lost, wondering.
two as one we were,
connected in mind, heart,
essence.

Estranged my soul now is.
wondering forever it calls
to the half so brutally torn.

Its tattered arms wave,
reach, stretch,
attempt closure to the
immeasurable.

Seared, scorched, beaten
faithful to the end.

It will carry on.
My beating heart, torn to shreds.


*JCM 11/10/10

What becomes of love when it is old
when it is old it is as a desirable lace
intricate and woven with time, highly
desired and coveted by all

What becomes of love when it is new
when it is tender and delicate, as a
newly sprouted blade of grass. pushing
through hardship and growing roots

What becomes of love when it is spurned
when it is spurned it becomes as ash or a
snowflake. easily crushed or blown away
by the winds of hurt and defeat

What becomes of love when it is embraced
when it is embraced it is a fire, not the kind that
scorches or chars. but the kind that engulfs your
soul and glows with the happiness only it can bring

JCM 2013 ©

Touching
in a single motion

Capturing
my entire focus

Spinning
the world around us

Stoping
times endless cage

Grasping
the sudden glimmer

Glistening
in your soul

Hoping
the heart within me

Burning
kept hopes and dreams

Longing
eyes now bewitched  

Spiraling
all former passion

Blinking
a moments end

Turning
the moment passed

Touching
in a single motion

Turning
the moment passed





*JCM © 5/24/2011

Love tis not a thing,
bound by time or space.

You cannot send it away,
nor invite it in.

It is not coached,
nor guided by a map.

It can grip the soul,
with fear or hope.

Sleepless nights,
full of anguish and tears,
are its furthest friends,
and closest enemies.

Yet dreams of "could be",
spur it onward.

It conquers that which,
none other can.

Death, Time, Pain,
Love is the healer of all.

JCM 2009

sleep is peaceful
restful, forgetful
momentarily eternal
laying in a position of
welcomed surrender
escapeing time and space.



JCM 2011 ©

April 2, 2011

you know its spring
when the chill of winter

releases the song of the finch
with the ripples of joyous paean.

when the robin from her nest
does her up-down dance

on the miry ground in search
of those that creep and crawl

when mud awakens
from its solidified slumber
to splash rampantly about

when children peel layers
to run under the cobalt sky

JCM © 7/10/13

Leaves contort and curl,
the life retreating from them.

Returning to the mother core,
which brought them forth.

Leaves contort and curl,
the life retreating from them.

Returning to the ground,
the mother, which brought them forth.


JCM 2011 ©

there is magic in it
the touch of my hand
to the roof of this room

feeling the power
the thunderous power
the down pouring power

of a river coursing
down the other side
tingling in my palm

vibrating through
asphalt and wood
through bone and marrow

into my open soul
letting it drink, drink of the
life heaven pours



JCM ©
*C.B 5/19/2011