The torture on the golden ship of evil horrors
after arriving at the big golden pirate ship of torture we are made to walk along the black plank to board the grisly ship.  The horses look around the deck while the evil pirates watch with nasty and wicked eyes of hate towards our bodies.

All of a sudden hundreds of ghostly pirates appear from their  city of spikes and watch  us on the devils deck of terror.  The patch eyed monster with one leg then shouts towards a dark room on the ships deck while the other creatures jump and scream with a mist pint of froth in  their red hands.

The golden  goddess screams in terror when a dark figure wearing a purple hat walks out on the red deck of horrors.  We all look in horror when the rest of the pirates  chain our army towards  the ships  rails of torture.

i comfort luitent megs with my outreached arm while the dark pirate figure without a nose  and mouth pulls out it jagged  red swords  of horror at our trembling bodies.  The golden goddess stares inside its deep purple eyes while it pulls two  warriors out  from the carnage.

The horses plead for mercy while the  creature drags then towards a small dark corner of the ship.  One of the warriors is then tied down on a long plank of wood while the other pirates begin to move forward towards her shaken bodies.

An angry golden goddess try's to break free from the chains of torture while the other brave warrior try's to save the poor old woman warriors body.  We weep with anger when the pirates begin to rip her golden uniform off revealing her  lacy white old underwear of modesty.

The pirate monsters then quickly surround the shaken mature  woman  and ripping  her underwear off with ease. We listen the the pirate creatures howl with pleasure  whilst exploring her naked body.

Two of the pirates hold her head down while  the ******* pirate  pulls out its small flashing blade and cuts off  her nose  while she scream in terror.  The other pirates then keep her head very still while the creature begins to cut her mouth and lips off while blood fires up across the ships cold dark deck.

A sick golden goddess then begins to throw up when the black pirate holds the woman's golden lips  in the air for all the other pirates to see  and enjoy. We all sink into a dark huddle when the  other warrior is pinned down and sliced open by the black  pirates  sword of horror.

The horses tremble and shake when the other  warrior is pinned by down by fifteen pirate creatures for the black demon pirate pleasure. We all look with open eyes when the demon black pirate carefully removes hes golden genitals and ***** for the screaming warrior.

We are all then taken below deck towards a long  black freezing jail while the pirates party  and drink on spike city of evil horrors.  The horses sit and wonder how to escape  the evil city while the rest of us lay down in the dark  cells of torture.

written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler


The torture on the golden ship of evil horrors part 2

After a long few hours in the cold dark cells of horror the  evil pirates bring us up on deck while all the other creatures watch  from pirate land of evil. The golden goddess and her army are led out first onto the golden ships deck with  me and luiteant  megs, white tiger and horses behind us.

We shiver and shake when we notice the plank of torture  hanging over the cold red water of evil.  One of the dark pirates comes towards our cold tired bodies and looks at us with  its green eyes of evil while its flowing  hair of snakes shines at our clouded minds of terror.

The golden goddess speaks out towards a smiling one eyed captain before being ******* with rope on a ships pole.  We be the captain for mercy but he's monster pull out two golden warriors and makes them stand near the long plank of wood.

One of the golden warriors is forced to walk the long dark plank while others look on in terror and suspense. The horses try and break free from their handcuffs but get beat down by  the evil pirate creatures of horror

A scared and  terrified warrior stands in the middle of the plank until a giant black figure emerges from the deep red river. The figure a shark with five heads and axe tail jumps at the golden warrior leaving a big deep cut on his forehead with golden blood flowing out everywhere.

I hold a terrified luitent megs tight while his head ***** open in the cold dark night of spike city.  The horses hold onto a shaking white tiger while the creature dives back in the deep red water.

The shark  monster  then jumps again but this time cutting the warriors head off while making the golden blood pour over the dark plank of wood.  The golden goddess begs for mercy until the pirates surround the fighting body of torture with eyes transfixed on her large ******* with glee.

We tell the pirates to keep of her  until  a black pirate with one arm begins to unbutton  her golden  blouse with ease.  The other creatures get closer towards her blushing red cheeks while the dark pirate begins to release the red buttons and exposing her large  ******* to cheers from the ***** pirates  creatures.

After getting  touched and explored by all the evil pirates a crying golden goddess is carried towards spike city drinking saloon along with the other golden warriors. We are  made  to follow behind a guard of pirates while the horses and white tiger  are chained up in the cages of hell.

Once in the drinking den of horror we are made to sit on big long stool while the pirates  strip a red faced golden goddess naked  while the captain watches with a barrel of ***.  we are then taken back towards the dark cage in spike city and locked up with the horses and white tiger.

We look over at the  other big cage from hell and see the army of golden warriors laid down  from the fight on hell.  The horses tend to to a distraught golden goddess with their warm fur of hope and look for a way to escape this hell hole.

written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler

The torture on the golden ship of evil horrors part 3

After a long night of drinking and laughing the dark pirates settle down under a mist of red sky of horrors.  We sit alone in our  cold dark cage until the  purple light of sunlight shines though the next morning.

The pirate creature wake and walk around the dark spike city of horror until another ship sails in under a tunnel of torture towards the dark city's lights.  A scared golden goddess looks out and sees another pirate ship with orange sails come into spike  harbour.

We cringe with horror when the dark pirates cheer the ship while an orange pirate with six arms stands on its deck.  The  big green and blue ship then settles in harbour while the six armed orange creatures jump out and walk around the scared golden warriors cage.

A sadistic dark pirate captain  then unlocks the cage and drags out tow more golden warriors screaming and kicking for survival. The disgusting black captain then throws one of our heroes to the  orange horrors of lust.

The horses bang and shout at the dark pirate captain  until the orange creatures carry  the golden warrior woman towards a cold dark table of hate.  we listen to her screams while the pirates begin to cut open her golden uniform from to to bottom.

An angry golden goddess screams with anger when the creatures mange to prize open her golden bra  and ripping it off with loud screams of joy  from the other drunken pirates.  She blushes  red with horror when the  creatures  slip down her golden thong causing the  pirates to go wild with excitement.

We sit and watch with anger when the pirates begin  to touch her naked body all over while he screams in anger and hatred. The  creatures then carry her naked body towards the  creatures drinking saloon  of evil.

I hold and comfort luitent megs while the cheer's get higher and higher  followed by a dull silence. All of a sudden two evil  orange pirates  bring out her golden head before sticking in on a long pole near the river.

The golden goddess screams and kicks with anger at the glowing guards while  the other golden warrior is dragged inside the saloon of horror.  We then suddenly hear high pitched screams coming from the warrior inside until a pirate shouts yes in a loud clear voice.

Another  four pirates of evil walk out holding various  parts of the mans body in their glowing  hands of golden blood. The horses bury their heads in the  cage corner whilst the  creatures throw s his head and legs inside a big dark plastic bag of evil.

We all sit alone in the dark  cage of evil  while the orange and black  creatures toast and dance in the  cold evil  saloon of hatred.  The golden goddess and horses look around the dark cage wondering how to escape from the torture of the creatures hands.

written by wayne mockler
ownership and copyright wayne mockler

Once it started opening up,
Like a wound, the pearl sheen of skin
deepening into a red
As rare as the perfect rose
And just as treasured.

Bones dense around my heart
And lock themselves in place.
Stifling the voice - two beats -
The third one silent.

The fourth,
The fifth,
The third.

You are my arms outreached but selfish,
Hands open but stiff,
Palms red.

Vespertine, fatal dream
Mistress conjuring shapes of night
Seventeen little fiends
Elegy for a demon’s plight


Alone in my study, sitting
before a roaring fire
Visions so ******
they churn desire

With the dead of night
summoning hellish zest
They come to incinerate
my corrosive flesh

The hymns of *St. Lazarus beckon solace
from the cathedral outside
But I linger here in the bowels,
where my ancestral sins reside

Animistic stares gazing through
these dead-soul dreams
Where another horror story is not
always what it seems

Portraits of deceased queens
looked down at me with blackened eyes
Layers of muffled screams
festered while judging my vacant lies

Years before, my grandmother watched
over me as a boy in his bed;
Endless, ambiguous rhymes of prayer
are what she often said.

She promised to ban the spirits
that steadily linger
But dark twisting hands
outreached and took her

The monsters and invisible abominations
have always been here
Following my whereabouts,
watching me year after year

Subtle ghosts keeping my heart
and house cold
I sat and waited for what my
icy breath foretold

The dreams, the demons, the ghosts
all that severed me
From experiencing the love of flesh
I so forever longed to see


Came the hour the church bells rang and tolled


The dread of things to come
The moans and cries had begun

From lissome shadows and corridors
Like Charon beating souls with oars


Creeping evil fled
to the refuge of my home
To reap the sins
that my family had sewn

The rippling, screeching strings
of a malevolent orchestra
Scored and produced themes
worthy of infernal Sumatra

The flames in the fireplace
surged a green incendiary wall
From the hell mouth jaw emerged
a dark figure I saw.

Mother Mephistopheles,
            clad in silvery pieces with a pale face
            Manifesting atrocities, her emerald eyes
            welcoming our embrace

I backed away from the sights in,
my trance lost in her glimmer
But the noises and choir peaked
in a swarming fit for a sinner

In a gush of surrounding ash, Father Selaphiel materialized
The otherworld lovers reunited,
their bond revitalized.

“We come unto thee, Son of Faust, heir to Blake.”
They said in unison like a choral demon snake

“Create a fleshling worthy of a child, of many in one
So the deeds of your family’s sins can be undone.”

I stared at the figures with execrable bewilderment
Fearing my sanity had seeped through my temperament

They threaten my eternal existence with continued torment
A living anguish that would solidify my hell-bound descent

“What must be done?” I asked these surrogate advisers

And they instructed
A body made from flesh and metal
Of dead and living components
Blessed and cursed
From God and Satan
Men and creature
Using their collected powers
to merge with the night
I swept across the villages
and cities to obtain the materials
Now all these years, I’ve wondered
Why my medical expertise had been put to waste
“Did the demons prevent me?” I pondered
“Or did they aid me?” I concluded in my haste

Innocent or not, I claimed what I needed
To rid myself of the terrors deep-seated.

A steel-woven chest piece
and half-incinerated cadaver
Twenty feet of large intestines;
boys, girls didn’t matter

Shelled-out cranial cavity
with cerebral cortex to match
Mixing bladders and gallbladders
worth its catch

Punctured spleens and insolent creams
Circulatory, digestive, endocrine,

Iron bones, infused tendons mount
Smells and rancid odors spilling out

Guts, pus, worms and maggoty brains
Boiling in holy water with dried remains

Sacks of chain mail and velveteen potions
Seething concoctions conflate emotions

Patches of caustic skin made like adamant leather
Bolted with steel fingered brutally severed

Into gauntlet armor, this mechanized abomination
Personifying my sickened, wailing degradation

I showed Father and Mother my life’s work and creation
A flesh-iron shell waiting, they stood with appreciation

“Vespertine…” they called to the collage of my work
They petted its face while the shadows continued to lurk

Seventeen little fiends and creatures
appeared and surround
The moon shined through the glass
and the room around

The Seventeen shadow children became smoke and entered the monster
Now a being both ethereal and corporeal

My sins and demons locked in my own creation
Mother Mephistopheles and Father Selaphiel
Left Vespertine in my care

All that plagued me
All that haunted me

Personified, solidified
And barely alive.

My half-dead servant.

and Halloween child

You are like a
cool gentle breeze in the trees
whistling your sweet tune
and dancing your fingers through
my hair
like a silver stream of moonlight
on patches of silky worn grass
my feet run across
to get to your outreached
arms of pale morning sunlight
that make the sky
blush into cool shades
of rose, jade, lilac,
and peach
your laugh gushes
like a waterfall blue and white
spraying across
the rocks and evergreen I come
to perch on
when all inspiration for ideas
have dried into
strips of sour plums
and I am left feeling
a crazed thirst for the energy drained away
you are as light as a Cloud
white, often times stained
sunset pink and orange
so filling yet so translucent
in that my ideas
pass right through you
and become forever lost
like airplanes with blinking lights
and no destinations
flying across your endless horizon
of thoughtful evening stars
every time I close my eyes
and breathe
you are there fluttering underneath
my eyelids
smoothing my creased forehead
pulling my mouth up into an
upturned crescent moon
placing your palms
against mine
just to let me know
you are there
though only a fragment of
my imagination
you are simply
the stillness in every moment
encapturing a person's presence
to be carried in
the winds of change
yet brought back time and again
when hope has stilled
and home seems like a desert
that you bring
rain to.

They walked in together with flushed faces and cold ears, after walking for what seemed like minutes in the coniferous forest surrounding the cedar cabin. Those minutes were actually hours, but when they were out here time did a funny thing and sometimes stopped all together. He hung their coats in the closet as she stripped herself of boots and socks, with bare cold feet she walked across the patterned carpet feeling its fibres between her toes. She  perched herself on the couch in her favourite reading spot. He then too assumed his position on the couch allowing a space inside his outreached arm to be filled by her appreciative body. As she blankly gazed at the green life out the window, he gazed at her. Memorizing the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the way she puckered her lips without noticing. Absorbing all of her for a keepsake in case she decided to disappear as fast as she had come. This girl, he thought, is the most beautiful combination of genes and timing I have encountered in my life. But he didn’t mean physically, he meant her laugh and her stubbornness and how she believed she was spontaneous but every moment of her life was  planned. It scared him how much and how detailed he saw his future, and how she was undoubtedly in it as far as he was concerned. Sometimes he wished he didn’t feel so much for her, for them. He had been hurt before and he grew accustomed to the calluses around his heart.

She breathed it all in, slowly but thoroughly. She breathed in the warmth of the burning furnace, the smell of wood that was still alive. She breathed in his sent of musk, soap, and mint. She breathed in his delicious smell of love, his pheromones. This place was exactly what they needed, some time in a surreal place to remember each other and how well they used to fit. How well they do fit. The stress and distractions of everyday life were tugging at the strings that kept them woven together. All they needed was time to be silent together, time to think together about different things. She knew that their hands and souls would fit together again like they always had, if they just gave it a chance. And now, here they were in their own made happiness. Sitting  here as one piece of human, making love in the most innocent of ways.

A storm is coming,
Its coming in the form of a man,
He comes to disrupt,
Whatever peace I have left.

But I will fight this man,
Only because,
This peace I have,
I worked to attain.

But this storm of a man,
Comes in beauty,
He comes with delightful looks,
And he plans to rip away the peace in my heart.

This man,
This strong man,
When he smiles at me,
I melt away in his arms.

But the storm is strong,
And it covers me,
And I am lost again,
The peace I have slowly disappears.

But I scream NO!
I will not lose the peace,
A peace which I have come to love,
Which I have become accustomed to.

This man shakes my love,
This storm shakes my beliefs,
This man has his arm around me,
And I am at peace again.

But what do I tell the peace I already have?
Do I leave it?

This storm in the form of a man,
Has caused me to question my peace.

The sophisticated and beautiful storm.

I am at a crossroads.

On my left is the storm that will take me into new realms,
And in that storm, an unknown man stands,
His hands outreached to receive me,
Behind him is the unknown.

On my right is peace and love,
Amongst all that peace and love is warmth,
A man stands there as well, but a man with a familiar face,
He smiles and ushers me come to him.

So I stand at the crossroad,
Thinking,
Pondering,
Wondering,
Screaming.

The pain is terrible,
The feeling is disgraceful.

But I know I have to choose.
But what will I choose?

So I choose the road ahead of me,
Neither left nor right,
I stumble onto a new road,
And I look on at it,
And I am happy with what I have chosen,
I will create peace and love there,
Wherever this road leads me,
I will begin a storm for myself.

And the two men are no more.

She came to the farm a shy stray,
hid in the woodshed for days.
Food and water we left for her
kept her alive. In time though
very nervous, little by little
keeping some distance, upon
the porch she climbed.

After a month she ascended
a chair next to mine, where
in the spring sunshine we two
set side by side. Not touching
or speaking just biding our time.

One day she reached out a paw
placing it on my knee, politely
asking permission to step onto
my lap.  Her fear overridden
by the need for companionship.

She prefers to remain mostly
outside, but everyday she comes
to my door and with outreached
front paws she frantically scratches
up and down on the glass begging
to come inside.
I feed her then feeling safe she sleeps
awhile on the back of the couch,
eventually seeking gentle
permission to sit upon my lap,
on a soft blanket kept just for her.

She purrs with contentment while,
taking cat naps now and then, as I
stroke and caress her head and chin,
occasionally opening her sparkling grey
eyes to study my face, as if to be reassured
it's me touching her and that I'm still there.

In her eyes if that is not devoted love  
and gratitude I see looking back at me,
I don't know what else it could possibly be.

cease awhile
and hold commune
with his fabrication
and admire
every cordant note
of a symphony yet unwritten.

t’was a nymph
saw i a-Maying
her comeliness
beggared the reach of art
outreached my arms
to touch her tidy traces
alack, gone she
in the mists of morn.

the moon-kissed bed
was light and life
with verdant dewy leaves
astride the speechless
mountain tops
a journey was begun
to rain again
his darts of gold
to every waiting one.
the blanket of
the skies was azure blue
on limpid waters seen
along her hurried way
she dropped those
gaudy flowrets beam.
saw i her locks
in every nodding palm
‘neath the tropic sun.
t’was birds do counterfeit
her melody the
rustling bamboo stole.

they utter now
sweet words of love
as winds doth
beat and blow
the roar and rush
of the swollen river asks:
what is it to you?

sprightly now
the winged ones
from bud to bud alight.
athirst, searching for that
self-same delight.
the crown of earth’s
flowing seas of grass
its mighty arms apart
attentive to the
incoherent whispers of
the breeze that chances by.

what now
messengers of the skies?
what saw you beyond
the floating clouds?
what find you at the
end of the rainbow?
what secrets lie hid
in yonder hills?
pray tell this
to the hurling spar
of the ever-running brook
for down and down and down
she goes to her anxious
ocean-brother.

could she have paced
the grotesque shore
to appease the bleating sea?
now she laps up
the sand-white beach
now she beats
the rock-bound shore with
shrill indignant murmur.

the shore and plain
nod assent
nay, my search is done.
twelve knotty hours
of day are gone and still
my find is none
to tease the gloomy
brow of night
aflame is all the west
in its expiring redolence
my happy nymph adieu.

Hot & high in summer. Sleeping in am empty house full of strangers. I don’t remember eating anything the whole time I was there. We had a fish tank, all full of Siamese fighting fish, fighting each other to death every night in the neon-glow of blood & algae. We used to bet on them. Money was a rarity- what ever we had: Match sticks, cigarettes, tooth-picks, anything you can find in the bottom of your pockets. On more than one occasion the winner of the bet was permitted to eat the losing fish for sustenance. The winner would devour the poor frail, flailing body raw, with his nose pushed right up against the glass of the tank to let the winner know, if he did not continue to win, this too would be his unfortunate fate & the demise of his, lets face it, already sorry existence. The death-tank. The blood bowl & the lobster boat.
There was a dog living in the house, a black eyed, black furred mangy thing. Nothing to look at, but he was loyal & cared for us all as much as we him. Some days we would go without, so to not see him hungry. A hungry man is a sad sight to behold, but a poor dog with his rib cage showing through matted fur is too much for any man with a heart still beating to bare on his conscience. One time, an unknown,uninvited, unwelcome ****-bag of a man kicked him in the belly & few of the rough old boys dragged him outside & ''took care of him'' we asked no more questions on the subject, but safe to say, we never saw that man again & people knew not to mess with our dog. Given the chance, & not being taken by surprise like he was, we knew the mutt could take care of himself, he was a mean ol' thing if need be. He was a growling old junk-yard pooch, a real mean machine. The dog was known as The Colonel, I never thought to ask why, but in a strange sort of way, it seemed to make sense. The dog, & indeed none of us knew it, but looking back, he was running the ship. Our fearless leader, ready to starve, **** or be killed.
One cool, grey evening, The Colonel ran away. A bunch of people were sitting around in the big main room we called the hull, the mess hall, the control centre. A few chairs, a table for playing cards, a radio & a window at the back with black bags taped over it to keep out the sun. Most of us had no sleeping patterns to speak of, we just passed out where ever and whenever we felt the need to, so it was agreed that the sun being let inside our scruffy fortress was nothing but a nuisance. We were all sat around talking the usual babble & waiting for sleep to come-a-knocking.The sand man. I was lying on the carpet with my legs elevated up the wall, barefoot & hungry. ''Where's The Colonel?''
''oh ****, somebody left the gate open''
I slid off of the wall & up to my feet & ran out of the front door(which was also left open)looked in the front garden, nothing. The garden was so full of broken/useless crap that there really wasn't space for a dog anyway. Piles of black bags that never made it to the tip, the stench was enough to make your eyes water. Wine bottles, whisky bottles, beer cans & cheap white cider bottles flickered wonderful cosmic colours like the northern lights of Finland. Old bicycles, a whole mountain of them left to turn orange as a rusted door hinge. As far as we useless lay-abouts were concerned, once a bike got a flat tire it was as good as dead & left to rust, bicycles are really just a communal mode of transport, like a bus or train, the only fee is not getting caught, & we never did; breaking a lock is no problem with right applied pressure at the right angle of the frame & after some practice a combination lock really poses no problem either: simply pull the lock at both ends, spin the dial & all will fall in to place. Voilà!
I walked out to the front gate & peered down the street. The sun was coming down at the end of our little road where the cats prowled with their heads held high. Especially the king cat, the big cheese, big kahuna, top cat, hep-cat. He was bigger than all the other moggies, toms & tabbies. A big proud smoke coloured thing that prowled like a panther, battle scarred & mean looking. All of the other cats moved out of the way when he slid down the street. Twinkle-toes. He was the king. Sheba.
And through the orange peel sun glow & the rose tinted, airline-smear sky, at the end of the road I saw a crowd moving towards me. I squinted & held my hand to my brow like a sailor eyeing the horizon. When the black figures had come into focus I saw that running along side them was The Colonel. I'd know him anywhere.
The old dog charged the street like a battalion & pounced on me. Caught his front paws over my shoulder & took me to the ground with him. He was glad to see me. Friendship is a funny thing... he could tear me to shreds, but we were friends, I trusted him.
I rolled out from under the dumb playful mutt, wiped his slobbering welcome off of my face with my sleeve & when I looked up I saw an outreached hand & a smile, I took firm grip & pulled myself to my feet. It was Marie.

Shivering in the wet air,
Grasping to the last of the pink, fragrant
     petals for whatever warmth
     they may provide –
Rain runs over the soft, moistened bark
And falls off in sheets.
The wind tousles outreached branches,
And sighing, it waits
For the sun to bring warmth once more.

I just wish that my heart wasn't a star
Still shining bright to those that see it
But dead millions of years ago
Something to be wisheded upon
In the careless, childish folly of daily life

Such as making wishes
Pointless beacons of unrequited hope
That drives us as souls to the brink of sanity
And for some, such as the wanderer that I am
It drives us over that invisible boundary
And banishes us to an unfathomable pit

This pit, generalized as depression, insanity
Is seen with similarity amongst pits
Yet no pit is equal to another
Each is unique, special to and hated by its owner
Yet it is seemingly inescapable
And thus loved from necessity

And those who pass us by want to help
Offer a hand to pull us from the pit
But every outreached hand reaches a little deeper
And the abyss of life likewise deepens
Until you have no choice but to fill it

And filling such a whole is no simple task
First a pail of confidence is added
And then several more of momentum
As the hole begins to fill a hunger to heal forms
Where you overemphasize the process
And forget the reason

Thus the devilish being opens its jaws
And swallows every pail you have placed upon it
And mistakes your action for hope
And once more deepens exponentially

So here I lay, contemplating the treachery
That my life has slowly devolved into
And I have to question to myself
Do the stars in the sky hang so low
Because they feel the death of their brother inside me?

A  night time blue
Playing tricks on my tongue
With the raspy echo
of breath,
Turning with my cheek and into
It's nose again.


A shallow hymn of loneliness
Satisfies my heavy head.


Heavy with a day's desire
Giving triumph to the night
For in the night,
I die again.

I close my eyes
My heavy eyes
Right to the end of time. But
As any time
It's time again
For might to open wide.

As each lash upon each lid
Had swollen arms
Outreached for decay,
A brightened abyss
Of rightfulness
Leaks forward to the day.

Red dot adjacent the center star
Accelerating towards my hands
Outreached as if expecting rainfall
To be decorated in charred debris
As consciousness ascends somewhere

Cradled in slumbers warm embrace
Blowing kisses unto my face
Visions of a dim lit peaceful place
Where I did once forget my grace
But took it back with a hasty pace

In time to witness obliteration
As that dot did decimate
Crashing into the blue and green
Orbiting rock around the center star
Now finding himself much more lonesome

Beguiling

Would you like to know the picture God carries of you first fired in his imagination then bathed in light
And the final element water I know the power fire has to loosen the quiet tongue the flame dances and

Leaps your mind and imagination falls in step recall marches in with abundant expansive dialogue the
More you talk the more thoughts rush in as where the final viewing is in the clearest pure water at first

You don’t expect your change of mood when you approach any size of water it can be just a pool or a
Tremendous lake and more favorable is the small setting with water present a peace will descend like

Misty silk it bellows out and gently descends engulfing you through this silky sheen you are the supreme
Vision of loveliness the male is never more handsome the woman is never more beautiful can it be any

Different to look upon a face through green sea colors that occur when the sun shines through the
Rolling wave’s silkiness is nothing but the master’s delightful touch God sees his

Daughters as true princesses of the mysterious desert and there was a reason that Valentino played
Sheiks of the mysterious desert land it made him incomparable and the women stood on equal footing

In character and looks spellbinding that is what you look like to God we love with all of our heart but his
Capacity is so far greater than ours every church around the globe would be busting at the seams and

More being constructed if people really knew God and his love that is the greatest cry of the human
Heart is to be loved it took a master deceiver and the greatest hater of mankind to wreck the havoc that

He has accomplished well why doesn’t God do more the artist sized it up when a broken bloodied savior
Was shown on Calvary with his arms outreached with the underlining words he loved you this much

You’re the whole of his existence there is master piece after master piece that hang in museums but
They pale and are considered inferior botched art next to his longing pleading eyes that say come unto

Me my treasure and know everlasting pleasure come and be seated around my throne your rightful
Place that was always my plan for you only death and sorrow awaits those that turn a deaf ear to
Perfect love

amusement park rides are safe
the sheer force keeps you from falling out
roller coasters tilting you side to side
not quite upsidedown
but almost

I'm trying ******* a playground swing
to go over the top
but just keep falling back to earth
******* gravity

in between the trip and the crash
is the fall
That's when I think of you
when my hands are outreached
My feet are skidding
I'm trying not to eat ****
but there's no guarantee
because clumsy people fall a lot

Maybe I haven't landed in love
but I sure am falling

I'm not just someone who time-after-time ***** things up.
I honestly believe I wrote the book on it.

And my book is filled with stories of how I, no one else, single-handedly messed up everything I could have had.
I've messed a whole lot of things up in my life.
And I regret it all.

And lately, I've been thinking,
About all that I've done wrong.

It's been weighing on my mind like an anvil.
And also on my heart.

I've done myself wrong,
I've done school wrong,
But most importantly,
I've done others wrong.

I've neglected outreached hands that could have been my lifelines.
I've missed opportunities that could have been my successes.
I've thrown away friends that could have been my family.
But above all else, I've missed the chances to have the things I want most in my life, and I have no one to blame but myself.

And honestly, I have no idea why.
I've had everything that I have ever wanted right in the palm of my hand.
Everything I ever wanted was reaching its hand out to me...

And I ****** it up.

And now, here I am writing another poem about the things I could've had,
Instead of enjoying them myself.

If I could just have one wish in life,
One more opportunity,

I would want to go back and fix it all,

Go back to those moments,
Go back to those days,
Go back to the hospitals,
Go back to the parks,
Go back to the rehab centers,
Go back to those precious moments,
And not **** things up.

Because if only I could just go back,

Maybe I'd have better stories to tell.

Rich Grief, as Gold, a priceless weight.
Your love has reached the Pearly Gate.

The Lords forgiving, outreached hand,
Guides her to the promised land.

This broken heart, that haunts your soul,
That keeps your "Self" from being whole,

Will surely never mend complete.
Yet, you should not concede defeat,

For in Gods ***** rests relief.
Your souls touched love, however brief.

The fleeting moments were well spent.
Your time together heaven sent.

Let go the guilt, release the tears.
The days will fly, as will the years.

Then once again the joy will be
The driving force that sets you free.

JMA

The cape hung over
A patriotic Dover
Red and white,
Blue lit might.
Quite the sight
When taking to flight

Confined to the prison
Of limitless vision
A witness to distant lands
Military stands
Saw outreached hands
And all their demands

Late one day
Came heavy dismay
A man found finality
Another, reality
Beyond speech
Things out of his reach

The feeding lines hung
From chorus’ sung
Distant hope transgressed
Faded dismay repressed
Luxury had seeped in
Through sun-spotted skin

Morality appeared
Though initially revered
Some cheered
Others sneered
Seemed to be feared
How horribly weird

Slowly,
Shaky on my feet, like a child
I was practically a child,
When you found me.
Shaped me, molded me as clay
Your fingerprints, careful, intentional
Slowly,
They made my masterpiece,
My words, my life, my soul
Yours.
But here I am alone,
Knocky knees, pale cheeks,
Chapped lips and aching ribs
What am I to do with this control?
Slowly,
The world turns, still.
My own is shattered.
It lies on the glittering pavement
Where I fall to my knees,
With handfuls of my hair and racketing sobs,
Screaming with the anger, the hurt, the ache
Drawing all the attention I wished I'd drawn before
A cry for help, an outreached, black-veined hand
Though all in my mind,
Because I walk past, on the pavement,
And I walk home.
Slowly,
I breathe.
I blink, my eyes dry.
I've cried every tear I can cry
For you, or really,
For myself.
What's left is a battered, brittle, brackish soul
And a body in upset.

I was doing so well!
That's what the screams in my head screeched as I wept.
I have been honest and open
regardless of my demons that crept.
I've bargained and plead with great courage and might,
to accept loving allies and friends in my fight.
I have held it together, striking fears in the face,
Stood tall with arms outreached though I felt running in place.
It took one head-on heartfelt conversation,
for my triumphant steps forward morphed to tormented contemplation.
Thousands of words streamed into my head,
I need to release the storms brewing or my soul be dead.
I sat at my piano, eyes closed letting my flow take flight,
I can't go another day with the hauntings of sleepless night...
I played, and cried, as slowly the voices subside...
And it hit me...
**** this, grab a spoon, where's the nutella?!
...And to all a good night!

Dams give way,
and women drown.
If you’re going to fall
then make it count.
Don’t just slip
but dive deep down,
into the depths of hell,
where hollow truth is found.


You should have seen me then
   when my hair was brushing the sky.
Lesser men strained their necks
   just trying to see that high.
So I made them medicine
    because I was that kind of guy.
Yes, I slept soundly
    in my nightly bed of lies

I broke bread with the poor
   and took drinks with the rich.
Some said I gave too much
   but I could never resist
an outreached hand
    and the implications in it.
Little did I know
   how palm can grow to fist

Then it started to change;
   that god forsaken splash,
too late, too cold,
   I froze and turned my back.
Mirrors haunted my head
   long after the fact,
and the trumpets that praised me
   changed keys to laughs

So I tried to plug my gaps
   like a doomed sailor fighting the sea,
with women and with whiskey
   then **** and ecstasy.
I filled those women’s hearts
    and left them empty,
but that’s of no concern
   when I live for only me.

I tried to burn the town
   with my wicked words and ways,
but I was still given praise
   for my false yesterdays.
Sticking to the straight and arrow
   had led me astray.
So I set sail for better shores
   where all life is grey.

So now I haunt this bar
   the Pope of Little Mexico.
I make rain with my tongue
   just to make the Nausea grow.
I flew with the Eagles
   now I’ve fallen down so low.
Things have never been better
   I have found my heart’s true home


Dams give way,
and women drown.
If you’re going to fall
then make it count.
Don’t just slip
but dive deep down,
into the depths of hell,
where hollow truth is found.

Lungs outlined with blue feathers
Ready to take off and fly
My fingertips like silk
Are incapable of holding on to anything
For too long

What can you hold against me?
Ghost stories I should've never shared?
Or that every time I dream out loud
I always seem to miss your outreached hand

What can you hold against me?
Besides this ache in every bone
That whispers to my soul
To let go for once, and try flying alone

hidden in every dream
dipped in every breath
a symptom of your being
reaches every step

steps which surely lead
away from sheltered past
to stranger shores indeed
into your soul at last

below the gloomy skies
or stormy seas you go
remember in dark nights
from shadows does sprout hope

with every gust of wind
free yourself away
set sail with all your might
to a better day

on brink of what shall be
the turning of a page
with slender arms outreached
come take the leap of faith

Lost and screaming,
I gaze at the young child as it pulls on its mothers arms,
She who is tired and weary attempts to calm the child,
Heroic... but futile. The child wants a new lego set, and by the look on his mothers face it seems like he might get it.

He knows not of the pain she felt when she brought him into this world.
He knows not of the sacrifices,
Nor the hardships.

When he is older perhaps he will feel guilt. Or remorse.
For now, he knows joy.
Joy as his mother lifts down the set into his outreached arms like deliverance its self.

I chuckle to myself, and sip my drink.
Out of the corner of my eye I see another small child,
Standing alone amongst a sea of strangers.

She is looking around, confused at first,
Then her gaze grows more frantic as the moments pass.
Her lip begins to quiver, and a small diamond falls down her cheek.
She does not cry.
She does not move.

Of course she is not aware that her mother is merely feet away browsing the aisles,
but to her... to her she is lost.
Lost to all those around her.
Invisible and alone.

Of course this only lasts for a few moments until her mother returns with open arms and and a warm smile.

I pay for my drink and stand up to leave.
In many ways I relate to the children.
Constantly grasping for something new. Unheard of, exciting.
Seeking guidance and protection, Respite from the flow of life.

bruises like clouds after sunset,
heart like ice after it's been counter set,
fingers like branches in a hurricane,
eyes like condensing windows in the rain.

one beat, two beat, two beat, two beat,
can't count to three,
my mouth is weak.
can't stop shivering,
trying to speak.

my head is screaming,
and my arms are outreached,
but my voice has broken,
and their palms are in fists.

(NJ2014) All Rights Reserved.

Love is a mending of two hearts
I am a forest fire,
a rickety fan that will never run quite right,
a cup of coffee that warms your soul.

I burn too bright, but fade too fast.
I crave a different tune to which nobody knows.

I want,
No I need,
a steady hum to learn to beat next to,
to walk side by side as equals.

I want to burn in passion, but I need
to breath slowly as we lay in a sheet of knowledge.

I want an outreached arm, but I need
a mountain of freedom to climb.
I want to fit perfectly, but I need
to fit as crookedly as bent spoons.

Give me strength but don’t take away my essence.
Let me be free, but be free with me.
Find my heart but only touch it.

my feet have known the streets each long hot mile
the greyish dust has sunk into each toe
there's not a corner that i did not know
but i have not been back there a long while
i've not forgotten places on the isle
where in my youth i used to have to go
in a warm time when life was soft and slow
and what concerned us most were form and style
so much recalled yet so much that must count
in a new age when time has outreached rope
so that we find our feet have travelled far
from where each started on that rural mount
in a bright year when everyone had hope
unto this time beneath a troubled star

~January
Time for resolutions,  opportunities. and changes. All I would think was, “Did I just blow open wide my world”. I’ve had enough of the disrespect, lack of appreciation and consideration. I lost 10 pounds within two weeks of saving myself. I felt the weight of my decision on my shoulders. But as I return the keys, returned the ring, took all my things and locked the door… a new person walked alongside me.
                                                    ~February
Romance, love, roses and celebration. I surrounded myself with friends and family. Old childhood friends, new forged friendships and kindness and patience. With truth, reveals secrets and deep thoughts that plagued myself and others, set free for healing to slip in. But I laugh again, I sing again. And all the while, that new person seems more familiar with each day.
                                                     ~March
­Luck, abundance and new beginnings. I noticed I think of you less, I think of me and my future more. I grieved the past, that present and the future I was looking forward to. However that future was bleak, filled with disappointment and tears. I now feel purposeful, proud, encouraged with the road my life has taken; as I look at this familiar person and say “hello again.”
                                                     ~ April
Renewal, resurrection, and blessings. Although at our anniversary and I could not be alone, I felt more seen and heard in this time than I had in the years I’ve been with you. I think of you in passing and the pain doesn’t sting as it use to. I feel sorry for that woman who held on for so long that she no longer has tears to cry. I shed that skin and can see how that familiar person alongside her as me. We are so alike now, she is so proud of her new and familiar skin and I am proud that I never lost her.
                                                      ~  May
I don't know what's in store. The ripples of my life have outreached my view but holding my own hand, nothing will hold me back. "Hello again" indeed.

I sit in a web of intrigue
Involved and yet inviolate,
Not touched by others sorrows yet
Feeling every lonely cry,

I tug the webs of life
In which we all are struggling
And help others make a little progress
Or ease their situation

So many know me
Yet but few have any
True sense of me and what
I am or do

Many blunder passed
While some pause reflective
And a few see something which
Registers briefly before the stupor

Washes in to take them down
But life is for those very few who
Grasp my outreached hand
And cast aside the unseen net

That binds them to a pointless
Obedient existance and those
Few those Happy few
Live with passion and with joy

He found her body in the lattice of jet-streams
That had carried her away from herself
At the bottom of an ocean she dug herself
Fingers broken, palms dry
With dirt lodged under her fingernails
And blood tucked into the back of her mouth

He found her tongue in cheek
Sloppy print scribbled across the receipt in her pocket
Advil, number two pencils, and peppermints
He found her on the horizon already out of reach
Something blue already springing up from the soil beneath her

He found her after she’d showed herself the way out
No lock on the door, no warmth left in her touch
She left with an apology for ever being there at all
And a hand outreached for someone to take her
Anywhere where she could grow

He found her on a Sunday night right before the day reset itself
Put her in his arms, tucked her apology into his lungs
And left her in the soil

And he reset himself again

In me you will find no sympathy.
No outreached hand, no empathy.
No ear for one who lost by own hand.
Not even an interest to understand.

That your life is not going so well,
How many sad stories you have to tell,
How misfortune crept into your life,
You want help with all your strife?

Sorry friend, but don't look here.
I have heartbreak of my own to cheer.
Sad stories of my own I hide,
Past mistakes of my own inside.

And you will not hear ME ask for aid.
For this is my bed - that I have made.
As you made yours' , it's on YOUR chest.
Sweet dreams, my friend, enjoy your rest!

I am lying
Below this tree
On my back with the bats
I see it rising like a mushroom cloud
Bellowing upwards to cover me
Glowing in the moonlight; moonlit
A river flows beside it

While tufts of grass reach
Over its banks
Like peasants at golden gates
With arms outreached
Pleading
To satisfy their thirst
In the stream of life
Unaware of the soft dew
Upon them

In the dark
The solitary streetlight
Reflects upon the water
Under
The blackout skies
A horde of medieval torches
Dances
Like dragonflies
Like fairies in little ships
Their ceremony
Continues

I am an outreached palm
and a blank page,
waiting to be written.
I have offered you pens
and my pages,
and even my heart
mixed in with a plate
of your grandmothers homemade cookies.
I have even cut off my back
to keep me from turning on you,
and my heart may be the old motel
your mother warned you
to stay away from,
but the second it saw you
i knew to turn on the lights and
fold the sheets to make room
for someone new,
and i apologize for these sheets
have frayed and the shutters
might creak in the storms,
but i have bid you my all
in a risky gamble of love
and i will continue to do so
in hopes that i might win a place
in your heart,
like you have
in mine

November 18 - Tuesday

Wasted

I know it's true

you are in that place

between time and space

and it scares me to know

i can't reach you there

now that you've gone.

"she's gone gone gone"...

another moment,

stolen.

another moment,

taken.

and another chance thrown down

"Drink a little more, chug another down

till this pain you feel drowns"

(halting she whispers in the thin air )

and i just want something permanent something secure...

and each drop

is just another step

on a one way street , and i dead end alley

step.step.

drip.drip.

it becomes the same.

married in unison to the pain

you continue on getting so far away

arms outreached you walk with a vengeance against you

drip. drip.

unreachable things become just another unspeakable

i may never say this and you remember it

You are so focused on the WASTING

and i yell to you as you walk this one way street alone

(whispering she says) but i love you please please

make it home .



* *the empty bottle you climbed into isn't the place you belong though it's familiar it's wrong

Calmer skies are coming
Through nimbus and cumulus
From cirrus to alto
They are coming

Calmer words are coming
From rhetoric to echo chamber
From missile attack to mortal danger
They are coming

Kinder people are coming
From torrid social media to ignorant stand
From punch to outreached hand
They are coming