If life were a cigar…
I’ve taken many slow drags,
Inhaled the sweet, smoky, earthy scent,
Held its warmth in my lungs,
Exhaled its smooth burn,
Watched the smoke leech through my skin,
Felt the cancer spread through,
At the cap it releases the soul left in me.
If life were a cigar…
It’s certainly going to be the death of me.

A House of Stones,
Built to last till time grows old,
To protect these bones,
Guarded by a sentinel who is alone.

These words trickle,
Through the stones,
Growing moss in the cracks,
Of this old home.

I wish I could go home,
An ache that is deeper now.
Strange as it sounds,
My places of stones is my only home.

All around me are strange sounds,
Smiling faces that surround,
All met with stoney calm
And the sentinel.

The hearth cradles my heart,
Though winter has been long,
It still warms the house.
However the entry is still incomplete.

The lock is complex and I’ve lost the key.
Forgive me,
All seeking entry,
The stones are not for you to see.

It’s a place of sanctuary and grief,
Set upon understanding,
At the roads of vigilance and fatigue.

Like honey on the lips
A sweet taste of what was,
And will be.
The shadows dancing,
Whispering their thoughts

Does this life within know,
What it has begun?
The veil lifts, Ever briefly
Seeing beyond,
Only a glimpse

Will it live to breathe for a first time?
As the shadows dance,
Life of mine,
Not mine to find,
A lost soul, not this time

A pendulum that started,
Before I knew it swung
The momentum of life,
Runs away
And is starting again

Sweet sickle by my side,
Cleaving golden eyes.
My little drop of sunshine,
I’ve forgotten so much,
Forgive me.

I came with a restless gaze,
And a stormy light.
My decisions aren’t always right,
And I worry I lack the strength for life,
But I know this time,
It was made long before I breathed my first cry.

Home is a storm
Raging winds whipping life in,
Electricity crackling just to be alive,
Gentle rain starting off light
Until it remembers its torrential might
Breathing was never easier,
Than in a sky that’s alive
A heavily released sigh
Perfect Chaos
The heavens aren’t angelic sent,
But raw power with its teeth on edge,
Rage and creativity breaking its cage,
Where the ancients create,
And darkness plays with the wind

Home is a storm
Only for those who grin like a kid,
When the warmth goes,
The shelters close,
The precipice beckons,
And the storm begins.

It’s starting new,
Or so I hope.
What made me bleed,
Broke me in two,
Crept inside and stole my warmth,
I sincerely hope has gone away.
My mind was taken prisoner,
Left to rot,
In a place it never wanted to be,
Now this pit I must ascend,
If I am to reach the person I intend.
I’ve forgotten what it means,
Life is nothing to me,
Only a responsibility,
A duty to those around me
And the shell of who I used to be.
Now at this starting place,
An end and a beginning,
I wonder if I have it in me,
I’m not as fresh as I used to be,
And I’ve remembered what haunts me.
Here I start and here I die,
What remains is inside,
Potential
Do I get up and climb,
Or seek wisdom in stride?