Lonely.

a cold slab of granite hovers
permanently there, dedicated to
sunken souls peering up and out.
whetting a whistle to shiver
withering trunks of naked trees
with roots unknown, bare to
accept the abuse of
years of
grief

icy tears lost to eternity, a
black and gaping pit from which
none a grim grin is gleaned, but
the rigid temple of a person past.
human ivory left to ponder a
buried future and a risen past.
with neighbor sharing soil,
sharing nightmares and other
creatures of the night. lost and
alone, none can fathom the
time left to ponder the
unknown,
uncertain,
undetermined,
indefinitely.

alone.


unrealized potential

An understanding eye caught gazing,
wondering if: wishing for wanting.
Glimpse of dreams too amazing:
unspoken knowledge of one thing.

Double take of flutter pulsing:
second guess for second rate.
Long ways off mind, emulsing
us in reality's mate.

fantasy.

It won't always never will,
inside the dream. For when
dream-weavers till,

what might have been?


A Personal Discovery of Truth

To be or not to be
is certainly the question.
For others and myself
at yet another level.

Is Being false with others,
being true to myself?
Or is it something more?
A deficit: less than my best.
What is "all that i can be?"
Nobler in the mind.


contradiction of perception

missing messes
n' skipping stress is
wonderful to be,

but missing you
n' lonliness is
ever worse for me.

solitude is what i
seek when ev'rything
goes wrong,

but the ride's not
half the fun wi'
'thout you taggin' 'long


Commuter

free tickets to
one way streets.
round-trip relationships
arrive on schedule.
checking departures for
breakdowns and delays
unseen.

traffic clouds and clogs
vision and distorts
reports of congestion.
sight-seeing distracts
from shortest route.
nobody ever sees it
coming.


and Jazz

Smooth
and
Rhythmic,

Inspired
and
Driven.

Ivory dances
and
Brass declares.

Sultry Strings caress
and
Demanding Drums pound.

Feel the sound
and
Hear the emotion.

Simmer Down
and
Turn it Up.

Tune In
and
Zone Out.


A Captive Heart

They said no idea
more elaborate than beauty
will compel people to think
how this is only real,
here, for so little a time,
momentarily.
It's a strangely translucent vision
before a bleeding reality.

But break this silence
composed with the music of
my desire for you. It's a perfect
rhythm in my heart, strumming
it's strings as the mandolin by day,
bowing them as the cello by night.

Don't leave me to howl
at He who lights the night,
searching to quench my heart's
thirst for that which will wrench
boy from man
leaving his soul void of want.
Let end this quest for love.

And confess every line
as the Gospel Truth, with
obsession and a new life,
compelled as if nothing else
could be certain as this.
Spur my ache to dream.

For I too drink of it,
the fermented dreams of times
passed. Beneath an ever conscious
attic, filled with the forgotten
antiques of yesteryear. Above the
wrong from between fire
and inspiration lies an orchestration
too pure for ears, and
too loud for one heart, but
written by one whose soul is the ghost
haunting these words, the invisible
spark giving birth to
the flame behind your eyes.