Poetry by Franklin Kielar

The Coming of a Storm

2009-05-16T08:47:00.000-04:00

There is a silence emanating from my open window
No breeze or whistle of commotion
Just the echo of a dream withered by emotion
As I long for a cobblestone path to change

Granite and lime stone laden earth
Scattered with bits of bone and splinters,
Only carrion devourers find merit
As I long for lush grasses to tread

Upon a rotten log of demise
A cowardly raven lurks blinking
Every move of mine watched
Eyes piercing my silent trek

Even as he hops and flutters
No sound he makes
No whisper ground
And I tap

I tap

Each tap, a crack in the silence
Each tap, a stutter of light
Each tap, breaking a jarring silence
Each tap, a lightning strike

I tap

Such a simple sound
As I walk and wander aground
Almost as a thunder may applaud
I find clouds looming and growing broad

Raven blinks uncontrolled anger and fear
The silence so sound, entirely broken
He scrambles and takes flight with a caw
And my clothing flaps with a new found breeze

Eyes shine and lids cower no more
The stones snap, creak, and grown
Twigs pull from earth and sod alive
Growths of fevered groans long forgotten

Cold aged granite sprouts green life
Bones and splinters cower beneath shadow
As a symphonic rain pours emotional energy
The window shatters unable to close any more.

Frustrations of Mediocrity

2008-12-07T02:32:00.000-05:00

Frustrations of Mediocrity

The man sits looking at his hands.
They dance upon an illuminated board
Painting emotions upon a glowing screen
Laughing at their intent of emotion.

Once these digits were young
Once they painted images for you
Once they cared nothing of themselves
Once these digits were young

Now they wonder where they’ve been
Where have their thoughts gone
Their wishes and dreams
Their feelings and ambitions.

Lingering between ages alone
No longer young, nor old
Indecisive in impressions
Unsure of past and future

They no longer dance
No longer paint
Only fail at their farce
Limited visionary

A Timeless Rave

2008-12-01T23:46:00.001-05:00

Where have you been?
Who did you go with?
Did you sleep with them?
Keep your polite questions away from my window
And whistle them to your mother and father.
There is no lantern here for you to twist
Shedding light about my private chamber.
These are timeless waves and timeless patterns
Betroth not my brother and sister
Dare not to sneer at my friends at the table
Your lies fool only demons with laden eyes
Hoping to spread misery through relentless raves.
There are times of pleasure, times of loyalty;
Times without games or indecency.
But where are you as I lament
And a fever grows within my ulcered gut?
These are timeless waves and timeless patterns
When was the last time you heard an infant cry
Wondering not when they'd be quiet,
But a thought of concern over their wellness,
Hoping they're met with some compassion?
How long has it been since you were hugged
And didn't wonder at the authenticity,
Looking for that stamp of credibility,
And hoping it won't cost you later on?
Timeless raves and patterns flow about the waves...
I am no wiseman from the grave
Feeling no better than those I know
No higher or lower, obtuse or acute,
I only feel as I feel...
None can take your mentality
Humanity can be born annew
I whisper my concerns and opinions,
Ideas and observations to a deaf wind
If only timeless raves could sing of patterns in the waves
Where did you go?
Please ask with concern
Who did you go with?
Maybe tinted with curiosity
Who did you sleep with?
Hopefully in comfort from the demons of the night.

Is There A Way?

2008-12-01T23:44:00.000-05:00

Each glare is a bullet riddling my chest
Holes pour blood and thoughts
Drowning my thirsty boots of old.
My chests are all unlocked and open
No buried treasure maps remain
As I flirt with new beginnings.
No plate holds my food
No cup carries any design
And I have no leather chair.
Faces and hands sweep by
Tossing each other about
And I see no end to the street.
Walking, no world turns
Turning, no path is there
Fearsome cliffs of irony.
Standing, the scenes spin
Dripping letters from pens
And I'm blinded by reason.
Perhaps I need the blood…
Maybe the chests should close…
Faces may lead the way…
One flower sits upon my table
Blooming she sings
Perhaps, that is the answer.

Deception

2008-12-01T23:43:00.000-05:00

Such lives intertwine
Feelings, folly, friendships, false
What is it that drives?
How is it, they turn?
Backs shown
Tails are grown
All of them shriek
"Not my fault."
What is it shown?
Such lives intertwine.

The Humble Stump

2008-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

Humble Stump

The weathered tree stump beckons to me once more this time of year.

Sunken one more inch below the earth, frozen water beneath its bark gives the stump a slightly bloated look; yet the sun sparkles along its rim as I ponder sitting upon that cold surface once more. I walk endlessly with eyes open most times, although whispers and passings have been missed with the blink of an eye. Warm embraces are shoved off with the turn of a head without even knowing it was offered. Friends and family swim within my head as a mobile just out of reach of the campfire's flame. But smiling faces appear amidst despair. Good times float about as snowflakes and dreams. And the stump has a grin that I can't deny, as I turn to place my seat upon its face. Sure... the stump is cold and cracked as I look around this fevered space. The trees are only half there, as the times have withered away many of their brothers. Somehow this path I have tread repeats and always winds up back within the same sunny glade, and I'm offered a rebirth of sorts, as my coat flaps in the wind. The breeze isn't chill this day however, and I embrace the movements unseen. Decades pass and although this life has yet to bring me my desserts, I have tasted the bread of humanity. Every year brings a new notion of how little I know and how little I've seen. The stump reminds me although alone, I can see clearly and be part of something. The bark lying on the ground reminds me of wasted time with effortless thoughts. But regret is a demon that hops along beside me here and there. Angered when I stop to feel the soft caress of a flower, it edges me into the thickets with thorns and wolves. But the few flowers make the travels worth it once more when I find the humble stump once more. Snow now begins to fall, as it always does this time upon the stump. No longer cold, the surface frees me to move once more. I give a sincere smile and wave before pulling my coat tighter, for the wind has all of the sudden become cold once more. There's a dark trail leading away, and my only hope is that the stump smiles and grants me its blessing along my journey. Then in a circle wipe fade, the scene closes behind me as I walk once more away from this glade.

Determination

2007-07-11T17:54:00.001-04:00

Amidst the sea of futility
Our engrossed traveler fares
Dripping sea-spray from his brow
Tugging at his bending oars
Drenched hairs whip his cheeks
As winds burn with taunting words
And a snarl twitches at his lips
Whilst the weather tears his threads
“Behold!” he cries
“My ears and eyes are clear,”
“My mind races and muscles ache,”
“I see no land, and hear no life,”
“I feel pain and know no calm,”
“Who are you to challenge me?”
“Who are you to beguile my fate?”
“I have my own boat and oars.”
Fevered and grinning now is he
Pulling ferociously upon each wave
One spark shines now and then
Within each eye with intent
Circling his boat is the blackest black
And the waves foam the whitest white
Such contrast blinds the weak
Yet he bares his teeth once more in flight
Now and then he mumbles again
“I have a way, and my way is my own,”
“Through the storm, my future I’ll form.”

Hundreds of Benches

2007-02-17T00:49:00.000-05:00

I sit thinking upon this lonely bench
What about my brothers abroad?
What about my sisters in arms?
What about the children I don’t know
And the people we don’t understand?
We claim to be of the people by the people
And yet we misrepresent our people.
Truth, honesty, and integrity I thought
Was a way of loyalty and devotion
Patriotism falters from media tampering
Journalistic character became caricature
I know not all the facts
No one is telling anything but opinions
Webs upon webs spun from guns
Smoke clouds their lenses and I ask
Where were they when that was taken?
Why weren’t they helping the soldier there?
Why did they watch the child cry all alone?
How dare some say they support our troops
When the same breath preaches no remorse.
Does anyone remember anything of reason?
Where were they, you, or me?
Was anyone saying anything really?
All I see now is a hundred benches in a line
Each with only one or two people there.
Some praying, some cursing
Some standing and flaunting their fists
Others cheering and loving all of this.
And here I sit in the middle thinking
What about my brothers abroad?
What about my sisters in arms?
What about the children I don’t know
And the people we don’t understand?
Looking around here I realize
Even here at home, I don’t understand.
One day they’ll be home and perhaps
We’ll all sit upon the same bench.

Pacing

2007-02-16T00:52:00.000-05:00

There is a whisper in the decadent air as I pace round a silent chessboard. A feather of a thought floats along with me oddly never touching the ground. Instead it meanders in and out of each air current, light, friendly, happy. I feel as a ghost upon this board with no hand driving my play. My hands hold my robe transparent as I wring absent moisture from the frills. Silently sitting within my pacing is a solitary statue poised in such a way as to be listening. I have tried to wail, speak, breath, even cry; and how can a ghost do anything but moan as it withers through the ether. Rain passes each kiss of clothing till it crashes upon the white and black squares, revealing a glossy surface refusing to reflect my impression. I see no path before me and the wet surface shows no footsteps from whence I came; oh if only I could burst forth a sigh of my frustration. And the feather breezes past my cheek leaving the slightest impression of warmth as it impacts a raindrop in an exchange of kinetic energy, twisting aloft faster as the drop falls in withdrawal. I long for that slightest touch again but such a feather is beyond my reach. Lunging for the statue I find a solid handshake this time without the transparencies of before. The chessboard grins as I fall expecting to devour my knee and now it frowns awaiting another call. Amazing how such a touch of warmth and solid handshake give this ghost matter with which to catch just a bit of rain. Although cold, it reminds of what warmth one floating feather can bring as I continue to pace again. The statue continues to listen as I watch the feather aloft, thankfully never falling completely to the ground. So peacefully it sails this way and that as I begin to lose my solid nature again and the rain penetrates as before. My reflection upon the chessboard now fades without my attention and the rain continues to penetrate directly to the ground without interruption. Only the slightest thought of warmth carried by this feather is enough to keep me pacing on.

Breaking a Stone

2007-01-14T00:51:00.000-05:00

I broke a stone today

Forgot how it was done

I remember it whole

And something begun

But what happened was

Not quite natural

It was seemingly

Rather UN natural

It was whole at first

Then I kicked it once

It skittered and jarred

But stayed together

I kicked it again

And it hit the wall

Dropped to the floor

Nothing broke

Nothing at all

So I picked it up

And whipped it around

It flew fast forward

Hitting someone I knew

Then it settled softly down

Upon their unconscious body

I chuckled a bit

For if it hit their head

It would’ve broken true

Broken to bits

So I rescued the rock

Placed it in a bag

Till I arrived back home

And found it in half

Puzzling this was to me

I don’t understand

All I can say is this

I broke a stone today

Forgot how it was done

I remember it whole

But now its in two

That Tearing Thought Unknown

2007-01-10T00:53:00.000-05:00

The wind’s whistle relentless
Tasking my ears painfully shrill
Tearing neurons beyond soul’s control
As fingers fondle brain cells futile
Chunks of skull aside coagulate boots
Eyes shown lidless as moon above bright
Silence unfound as source unknown
And I cannot sense a reason within
No thought to repair senseless tear
Slump and settle once more remorse
And silence finally, the whistle ebbs

One Tear

2007-01-10T00:52:00.000-05:00

I am silently bleeding
No, no blood… don’t be absurd
I am silently bleeding tears
As a tiny cut bleeds
I shed a tear slowly
Only one

Only one tear with every stressful tug
I am silently bleeding
Tear of absurd devotion
I shed but one
Only one

The cut won’t heal
And I sit without a wail
For any emotion I have
Only one

Till I find a cure
Simple devotion I feel
Only one

Tears could subside I think
For only one

One tear

Woe

2006-12-31T01:18:00.000-05:00

Empty barrels floating about without purpose, holding dark mildew and undead bones; creak and waver with the tides and winds as moonlit gardens fall adrift upon an eyeless maiden’s shoulders. My eyes sway back and forth as a mast in hurricane winds fleeing open waters searching for the cooler northern winds. Mountains may break my ascent beyond the sight of drifting barrels that taunt me so. I can do no more harm to those barrels as my eyes dart back and forth over plains and fields and trees of forests. Hollow eyes drench me in darkness beyond that of night. Tearing my heart from my chest becomes less difficult than eyeing the darkness, thus I light the organ on fire and look all about. Such a sincere torch is all I can trust within this whirlwind of woe I find myself. Breathing is fevered and my heart of course now on fire, feels nothing of the chills that rack the remainder of my body. I am alone. All I see is the ribs of the empty carcass I now reside within. I no longer have the strength to crawl back through those eyes and embrace the storms about the hair so silver and free. And thus I sit and dwell upon the sternum waiting for some tissues to grow and bring life once more, to this empty shell.

Around the block

2006-12-31T01:15:00.000-05:00

Darkness wept as I walked into the cold wet November NY air. The moon may have been full if it weren't for the clouds clinging to the stars as an old hermit to her shawl. A few tears hit my cheek from aloft as I strode beyond the buildings to the coffee shop. Bright and cheery it would be if it weren't for the lazy student patrons loitering about with only empty cups to keep them company. A hard cup of burnt water would warm my bitter soul I thought as I turned the corner leaving the cafe door closed and cold. Hugging each step, the sidewalk seemed an old friend from a warmer time in a southern land. It did not sneer at my look, did not wince at each step, and didn't wink a fake longing as I turned the corner. Past the third house on the right I thought of the leaves in the right light as I had seen a month past. Throwing both images together in my mind created a brewed image as crisp as a good cabernet. The few leaves remaining on those trees sheltered none of the worries from the darkness as they continued to wave to all passer-bys. I waved to no one. Two more blocks came and went as I climbed my front steps ever so energetically. No mail. No calls. No one. With a brief sigh, my blank paper before me grew and grew swallowing me whole; twisting a fresh realm of pencil and pen into view. Thirteen hours then became a 14 by 17 intriguing thought. Only this time, you can see. And the darkness then gave up a chirp, and a single star can be seen through a gap amidst the clouds.

Take the Twilight Road

2006-09-03T01:17:00.000-04:00

No light below
Only gravel as I walk
Toes kiss the ground
As I feel my way forward
The gravel begins to grind
As barbed wire underfoot
Picking at my soles’ flesh
Like piranha upon a carcass

Bones flirt with pavement
Scraping by, yard by yard
Almost a gleaming white
Can be seen behind me
As forward I push the black wall
Forcing a future perhaps
No light ahead
Only iradecent white beneath

Soft as a crow’s wing
The darkness teases me
Embracing a sweet sleep
It purrs into my darkest wish
Touching my inner emotion
I can almost see with eyes closed
Yet my feet scream to let it go
And away the crow flies.

Long, the way winds round
Sometimes, brushed by leaves
Soft hands of foliage flow
Warming my arms caressed
Memories of loving tenderness
All at once, imagined apparition
Longings forgotten behind me
And in a splash awakened.

Right foot found water loud
Eyes peeled sharp catch my visage
In ripples lit by rising horizon
A grizzled face tossed aloof
Appears in orange and pink hue
My breathing has stopped
Such a puddle of mud soothes so
My identity remains in question.

A rising sun
An inquisitive expression
My bones aching
The road never quaking
Shivering cold arms
Hunger awakened
A silent shore ahead
Soft beach beckons

My toes hug the sand
I follow the flow of waves
Feeling a rising sun’s warmth
Sparkles of light bounce about
Much like baby’s birthday tears
All at once no walls surround
Forever seems the day today
Tomorrow no longer a worry

My Last Rose

2006-09-03T01:16:00.000-04:00

Have you seen my rose? Upon the breath of a young man’s wish, I dropped a rose by your door. Each thorn held a gumdrop, and a wreath of ribbon adorned. The red was a slight touch of sunshine reflected with autumn leaves. The stem bent slightly to the right, but so cute once rotated slowly. Only such a rose could hold a scent so soft and bright, it flowed easily about, hinting of full gardens of delight. Have you seen my rose? The green leaves issued a sense of peace and longevity. The petals numbered an odd number, not too many, nor too few. While looking at it so, I felt only a child’s joyful tears should feed it. Please… have you seen my rose? The velvet-feel pales only to a mother’s whisper upon an infant’s cheek. Or the dying last “I love you” from an ageless lover. Have you seen my rose? No… I guess you haven’t. My rose would be hard to miss. After all, it was my last rose to give.

An Evening Stroll

2006-09-03T01:14:00.000-04:00

Falling leaves remind of days
When I had nowhere to go.
Time meaningless whilst I walk;
Following veins of gavel and rock.

Sometimes the moon aloft,
Often the sun in bright smile,
Yet even when gloom rose
Clouds would not dismiss my purpose.

From here to there alone
Sometimes bitter awakenings
Flew about a painted mural
Along my path.

Birds might call now and then
Breathing flowers of song
About a wreath of emotion
To warm my soul.

A breeze here and there
With scents of growth
Aromas of serenity
A sea through which I tread.

And all at once time starts
That fateful ticking and tocking
Pushing me this way and that
As my walk ends.

I sit down within my room
My eyes dart from clock to window
I can’t quite regain the emotion
Of where I just went for a stroll.

VS

2006-05-06T01:18:00.000-04:00

An ocean wave rushes over me
Salty spray layering
Half naked body swimming
Till I find the sand solid
All the world seems an illusion.
The sun is a breath of heaven
The wind is a kiss
The blues and greens of life
All afloat within my reach
Beyond thought of Them.
They scratch at my feet
Trying to tear my nails out
Reaching beyond graves
To take all I care for
They search for a wound
A crack to crawl into
Any opening to tear
My bleeding heart through
And I might scream
I might give in to theirs
And let a howling call
Befit their wretched ears
And yet, a silence floats
And no crying is heard
My arms and legs apart
Upon a bead of sinew
Yet no wails sail high
And no evil thoughts remain
My heart is at peace
For I knew my way before them
And all is now as should be
While I unleash my heaven.

Meant to be

2006-03-05T01:16:00.000-05:00

Bring sense into this world
Care for a crying baby
Hold his hand in your’s
And a world revolves so openly

Time has a trace of fertility
It slides past the world feverishly
Till you notice a world far beyond
All that holds your soul

A sense of truth
As his eyes meet yours
And you drop your cigarette
Letting your lungs breath

His love fills your heart
With a bright new day
Pulling those needles away
And you have no reason to flee

Time has a sense to it
There’s a reason to the world
Life has heartbeat and pulse
Beyond that reverbing drum

Now you want his love
Now you have meaning to your life
Now, and only now, do you know
You are everything to him

Happiness resolves itself
In the view from his eyes
Reflecting a family
Is all life was meant to be.

The Naive Feather

2005-09-29T00:47:00.000-04:00

Peaceful properties embark on a mission
Off into the distance they flow
Into a void to swirl and sail
As a feather floating high
Upon the breath of a child
Who in youth’s exuberance
Finds this a day of rapture.

Darkness and decay fail to grow
In a void suffering only a void
Of evil intentions of cruelty,
Ideas never to be imparted
Upon the mind of innocence
That sails on that pleasant air
As the high floating feather.

Yet the dark amoebae stretches
To devour all in its path,
Even the peaceful essence
That made such a void for youth
And protected such innocence
As a floating feather aloft a breath
Of a child’s content happiness.

And as a fatal final call
The peaceful properties float
From the gaping dry mouth
Of a trauma filled old man
Giving way to those evil intentions
Yet, only to flow into an empty space
Once content with a naive youth.

Keep On My Friend

2005-09-29T00:44:00.000-04:00

I hear a whining call
A friend’s last whisper
A shifting table leg
The clicking sound
As if clipping fingernails
And I drop my revolver
And hold my head in my hands.

The world is in revolution
My father no longer in devotion
The time is dry as a barrel
And I hold the last rotten apple
My fears hold nothing
As the curtains drift
Tied, yet… free on a breeze.

“Trapped,” I tell my mother
Proud is she, and sad.
There is so much more to be
And we both lack a windowsill.
That sweet vision open
As the spring lit morning reflection
Beyond my pain of glass.

Now I wonder to another,
To a friend in our world tied
Tried we are, as trying to proceed
We lack a sense perhaps
Of society’s reality.
Girls disgrace our hearts
And success lingers so close…

My table creaks oddly now
The only thing that makes sense
Reality slamming against the wall
Shattering in a cloud of powder
Taking my thoughts away
Leaving just the dust and shards
As I get up and go out the door once more.

Glimpses of Beauty - Edited

2005-05-29T23:59:00.000-04:00

Trees form a canopy, green leaves, shadows;
Falling from the sky, an umbrella of silken linens.
Shadows casting eerie lights about blowing breeze,
And falling, sun dips, dawn slips in, and begins;

To form a face around a tree.
A silhouette staring at me.
And gone in a flash
My heart feels some odd blast.

Rushing, running, wishing to find the vision.
Was it some ghost, apparition, being fair. . .?
Batting tree branches aside, in flight all stressed,
I ran, wishing to discover fine maiden, yet my mind said beware.

The brush spreads evenly, waiting... My breathing
Hard and sweating now, wondering, why be wary?
Turning left, back right again scouting.
A step forward through brush, it is starry.

A dark incandescent form I implore to see
For myself, the face of beauty steals me away so;
And gone again, I rush from tree to tree.
Exhausted already, seeing times of ages ago...

I see face after face, I let go of in past,
Times, and neglected regrets hit my soul.
That blast changes cold in my heart fast.
Even a crushing blow.

Why is this happening? I can not tell.
Seeing those dead and living still, am I merely
losing my place? No where to run, there I fall
Groping at chest and head to think clearly.

Darkness sinks, an evil hand of contempt, sighing,
Looking about, sweat on cold clammy brow.
Is it done, what has gone by? I was not dying
No, but maybe I should have in that shadow;

Of my terrible past under dark canopy.
One of trees from which a face emerges
Even smiling at me, elven now, could it be?
Silken, fair, winds help its visage form.

Shows its very nature, slowly, I stand on guard.
Examining half face from fairly around large tree
It hides her form, yet an image is there I discover,
By shadow lit by a light heavenly.

Then, in poof of smoke, even a mist
No longer there. Is she
Just some gist?
Or is it just me?

Falling to ground as moonlight shines
Darkness gets lit with heavenly light
As trees and bushes turn soft, and undermines
The somber mood, an evil hand descending tonight.

Tearing, my eyes serenely sulk silken
As something comes from darkness.
Not seen by me, crying, I try to deny
My mood all silly, my head raises...

Nothing there.
No being caressing my arm.
Nothing fair, it is not fair!
Doubting, I take alarm.

Yet scared from this sight
All dark lit with this stimulating light,
Why is this so, this particular night;
Sitting, calmly thinking, which is my right.

Sighing, crying, even laughing, am I mad?
Staring into distance, past trees and fowl
To a lake shimmering, streaming, sinking a tad.
I stand to walk there, a lake no more, is it thou?

Streaming hair, shimmering eyes, a look so sullen;
Yet relaxing, that I blink, a lake again.
I had that image, a visage of an angel fallen,
But now another of mother nature’s wake begins.

Screaming, where is it? the lake now gone, slipping.
The image never stays, slips, I can not ignore.
These scenes I see this night are draining, am I dreaming?
I think not of images, whirling I fall to the shore..

Sigh, says I, and then gasp, there she is!
Taken aback I am, I do not stare, but look away.
She stays there as I do not see, and blows a kiss
To me, yet, I do not see, gone, “not there,” I say.

Image of beauty slips down from moon aloft
Sinking to earth very soft so I may see
Her in gown of vines, twigs, dust, I cough.
Mist swirls a heavenly shine, she glitters serenely.

Oh, how beautiful the image, visage so sweet,
I still do not look, only know she is there,
For only allowed glimpses of her, am I to see
This peacefull being finaly?

The wind licks my cheek and swirling, sweeps through my hair.
Listening to cool sounds of a purring nature, I hear,
But my eyes close to it all completely, for she is too fair
For me to see, and where to go? I sit, not moving anywhere.

Then, quick as it came, heart asunder and floating with thunder
The thought of beauty next to me, the wretched one.
Gone again, as before, I knew coming under
Her spell, that moment stays forever, even though she is gone.

A sigh as eyes open tonight
For those glimpses of beauty
That I did see with my sight;
Are mother nature’s mystery.

Drowned

2005-05-18T00:42:00.000-04:00

I sought someone through the storm
Crashing waves of water thrown
To her hand I fought the lightning
Only seeing flashes of her face
Crystal eyes pleading for me
Such smooth features to entice
And in an instant, all chaos dispersed
Silence reigned, my troubles fled
Strength regained, I flew ahead
Rain and wind returned, tearing at my efforts
Till her coat I reached alone, torn
And downcast from this awful storm
Mere ripples were all that remained
As I crumpled to the sand
Slipping away into the sea.

Blind Man

2005-04-20T22:58:00.000-04:00

A man sits quietly
In shadows of thought.
He wonders quietly
In shadows of thought.

What he thinks is his own.
What others think, he has grown.
Shadows dart through his head.
Old romances never dead,
New romances drowned out instead.
He will not let any light shine.
He must think in his shadow.
He will wait biding his time,
Till one day he opens leaden eyes
To a light far too long neglected
And sees truth as it is;
That all has gone and left him.

Drifting Friendship

2005-04-20T00:41:00.000-04:00

I remember a time behind me
With so many images and feelings
Left in the dust of memory

The friends I thought I knew
Who chose me to not know
And so I had to choose a way my own

Faces and voices twist with sounds and images
As I bury my feelings behind clenched lids
Words reflect idle banter from ear to ear
As I sit remembering them from yonder years

I took my mind and flew
Sought a dream and a wish
Surpassing all I knew

With my heart and soul in hand
Emotions cast a sewn canvas
Stretched upon a mast of my frustrations

Blood dripping through clenched fingers
My mind and being laid before scrutiny
All I am and was, and will be
Became the focus of the majority

Rushing winds and waves flowed about
Canters and jeers pulled me afloat
Upon a simple raft of self sincerity

I know not which way to sail
But with my heart and soul in hand
Honestly, how can I fail?

Years pass leaving more dust
And reveals a once familiar rut
A place where smiles were reflected from face to face
Much unlike this place of loneliness

Yet as time wages war with personal ties
A vacant shadow where I once stood
Disappears, swept up with that dust
Drowning that old worn rut I once knew

Now I sit wondering where we’ve all gone
I wonder where we’ll all be
When we remember our fond idle banter

Then turning to our newly found friends
We’ll in unison say
I remember a time behind me…

Moving On

2005-03-16T00:25:00.000-05:00

Crossing the lands of lost realms
The traveler breathes the air
Of all he has seen and heard.

Walking so slow with the sound of dust
Crawling over his shoes, he watches
As the clouds curl and float above.

Vultures circle overhead
Rain and thunder fall
Over the mountains, he holds a silver ball.

Rolling a silver ball around his fingers
The lightning flashes against its luster
Creating the gleam in his clear gray eyes.

Wondering of all the hidden evil
And maybe of the little good understood,
He tilts his hat against the cutting wind.

Crossing the lands of lost realms
The traveler breathes the air
Of all he has seen and heard.

Walking through the rain and wind
Past all the dark caverns within
Those mountains to remain in memory.

He sees the vulture’s shadow
But that is all
He clenches his fist around the silver ball.

Rolling his tongue over clenched teeth
As the lightning shows them each
The silver ball gleams beyond reach.

Wondering of the bird’s decent
Or maybe graceful accent.
He tilts his hat against the cutting wind.

Crossing the lands of lost realms
The traveler breathes the air
Of all he has seen and heard.

Walking with strength and sureness
Without fear, remorse, or bewilderment,
He crosses all that he sees.

even the vulture circling, ebbs him not
For tis his fate
For him and the silver ball.

Rolling his eyes into the rain
As the lightning reveals skeleton beneath
The silver ball let loose, starts to fall

Wondering of its harsh impact
Or cushioned imprint
He tilts his hat against the cutting wind.

Crossing the lands of lost realms
The traveler breathes the air
And Strides into the unknown.

(That Old Dirt Road)

2005-01-18T00:49:00.000-05:00

The old dirt of this road
Is as memories confused
In my humble mind and soul.
Strewn thickly about carelessly.
As upon walked and traveled
We kick them into the winds
And around the air they fly
Floating on breezes within
Our minds and emotions.

My mind sees a dust storm and whirlwind.
It sees seas and craters all around.
It sees fires and rains, darkened stains,
Of blood left to dry for far too long.

Your mind may see different.
Maybe fields and flowers,
Medieval walls, or maybe towers.
Individuality is always there.

My mind can see beds of roses
And my pasts like castles.
The winds and seas above which
Floats the gulls of happiness.

The dirt then slowly falls so somber
With the dying winds of memory
And I see nothing for the moment
Like the feeling of perfect sanity.
Quaint tranquillity is all about
On this road we call life.
This road of old dirt and strife.

Down on one rugged knee
My weight rests so thoughtfully,
While grasped in hand is some sand
Left to drop so slowly from my palm.
But caught in between two fingers
Is a curious shard of shale.

Reflecting the sunlight so saintly so
I pocket the trinket and laugh;
Laugh in spite of myself and curiosity.
Maybe it is pure idiocy, but I laugh
As individually, my thoughts float.

Floating as each grain of dirt on that road.
Each individual and unique unto itself.
My thoughts sacred.
Thoughts are never dead.
Just as the dirt on this road remains
Always upon this Earth for you to see
Maybe one day, you’ll take one with you
Along your journey... maybe today.

Artistic Impressions

2005-01-18T00:37:00.000-05:00

Across the Florida ocean, there’s a place of inspiration.
Where the waves flow freely without hindering ropes.
No sails are needed to prevent drowning hopes
We’re free in our world of artistic impressions.

The visions float, as lovers walk the weary sands
They hold their hands, yet feel nothing grand.
Then swept in undying emotion
The painter’s brush wipes away inhibitions.

Our minds freely sail with our thoughts
In a hateless mirth that we’ve felt from birth
The seas hold music, the clouds hold our hearts
As we watch the world, and try to interpret.

Nothing compares, as our visions fill
With these impressions untamed
And visions sometimes insane,
Our artistic desires burn from our soul
In a flurry, then revealed to all.

A baby’s cry becomes a symphony
An effortless song of his humanity.
With a mother’s whisper and hand
The wails lighten to a nightly ballad.

Finery can be found, in the simplest avenue.
From the falling leaf, or growing mildew;
To the dark alley, Or your simple smile;
As the winds carry your heart on for miles.

Most watch with lidded eyes
Blinded by infatuations.
People forget simple worlds
And simple words.

From such a thing as beauty,
To an emotion of love
Everything dwells in a fog of uncertainty.
Save impressions from an artist’s scrutiny

The Fallacy

2004-10-14T00:49:00.000-04:00

The times don’t even matter
When the world is spinning faster
Closer to the sun each evening
Into the dawn we’ll start burning
If these times don’t even matter
And we can’t find ourselves sooner
The road will become barren
The dust storms will be our children

Every mountain has been climbed
Every plain and ditch mined
Oceans swept and silent slept
While we remain quite inept
Nature purrs as we grind
Leaving all natural order behind
Where is there to go now
But into a distant black hole

Children learn of worldly hate
While leaders just sit and wait
Letting educators lose hope
All easy prey left for dope
Love and religion may be lost
If our idols are teenage stars
And reality is televised idiocy
Begging us to be left free.

Finding a stable path is fraud
For life is precarious at best
Marshes are vast and perilous
Heights upon heights ominous
As climbing requires fallacy
Falsifying our own identities
To become what should be
The very fabric of popularity.

Then upon a precipice we stand
Seeing what can be called human
A world devoured of decency
Living in a fevered fallacy
A deception of perfection
Could there be some redemption?
Only the winds of change know
If there is any future for us now

Floating Puddles

2004-10-14T00:42:00.000-04:00

Puddles floating absent mindedly
Mindful ripples, tears descend
Upon gloss and murk alike
The faces of my strife.

Grinning taunting pantomime
Mimicing my thoughts sublime
All I fear and wish
Floating as dead silver fish

Unfolding upon itself
Unfloating, yet sailing so
As their bones begin to show
And eyes across the puddle roll.

Peeling skin then taut and tied
Forming a tent to cover eyes
One blinking this way and that
The second dead, and that is that.

A seer is it? seeing so
Maybe some feeble fool
One eye lacking spectacle
So unclearly we now go.

Into the future fast and furious
From puddle to puddle
Murk, gloss, murk, gloss
No reflections, no ripples.

Eluding a clear visage
Sewage a grim message
And eerie as loc ness
Is each puddle I witness.

Till awakened from my dream
Puddles away fade away
Yet that fishy eye remains
In the back of my mind anyway.

Till briefly shined and clean
The spectacle shows a scene
Real as day, in his eye
Hovers a puddle with my sigh.

The Burden of Birth - Edited

2004-10-14T00:37:00.000-04:00

Fruitless endeavors of creation
Breathless cadavers in syncopation;
All heaped, almost heaving
These abominations I’m growing.
Almost a breathing entity as opens an eye
All commotion flips then with a lie.
Choked and crowded is the feeling
Unrealized wheezing lost within darkened chambers
It sits and breaths for a brief moment, inhaled instantly
Held tight, hard, wielding a sight.
The creative birth of artistic wisdom
True emotion and all the light
Flops down then dead and silent
As a tiny tear slips past my nose.
So sad that the breath is but one
And the life is never really begun,
For all my emotion born creations
Only in death do they receive recognition.

Beside a Road

2003-07-03T22:58:00.000-04:00

An old man sitting alone
Beside a signless road,
Chuckles quietly to himself
Beside his sanity.
A young child dirtily clad
Approaches the old man,
Curious of his odd expression;
Curious of his solitude.

Upon laying his small paw
Against the shoulder of the old man’s shawl,
The chuckling expression fell
Dropping to a remorseful, regretful grin.
“What are you doing?”
Inquires the child dirtily clad
As he sways side to side
With youth’s exuberance.

“I am sitting,” chuckles the old man
“Waiting for my bus.” Says he.
“Why,” asks the child to him
“Do you sit alone?” Still swaying.
And then with tear filled eyes and a smile
The old man seems tired and drained
Replying so quietly and solemn,
“I don’t know young child.”

“Where are you going?”
The child asks innocently clear
Giving the old man no rest.
“Somewhere else!” the man replies,
Hardly politely, but rudely spoken.
“Somewhere else.” He repeats,
This time looking at the child
Somewhat in bewilderment, a mystery.

And then, the old man asks,
“Why are you here my young lad
All dirtily clad beside this signless road?”
And joy as a bluebird in flight shines
Across the child’s face as he speaks,
“Why... to talk to you.”
And startled and curious, the old man slumps
Back down to look down the road again.

Leaves Under Water

2003-07-03T00:13:00.000-04:00

Leaves under water
As infants tears
Under mother's wings.

Sincere feelings
Of youth raised
In nature's care.

Weathered beaten
Young, down trodden
Unsightly, forgotten.

Leaves under water
As infants tears
Or forgotten rags.

Hurt and crying
Dreadfully implying
Pain and suffering.

As leaves under water
Washing under cold waves
To finally, drown in their grave.

Leaves under water
As infants tears
Are mother’s worst fear.

A Man’s Last Mutterings

2002-11-22T00:25:00.000-05:00

Dark winds do beseech us
Musty stench, to quelch our hearts
Evil mutton to burn our throats
And those damn rain drops to sear.

We're dieing my friends, comrades
The weather is fierce
Freaking fine and dandy I admire
But my leg is stiff in demeanor

All, harsh is this time of dread
Death’s head does hover aloft
Bloody fine and well to do
He well take us all, our souls soon

Yes, dark winds and rain tonight
My friends, you gave a good fight
But alas, this battle can’t be won
Not by us, or any bloody one.

Pain, and blood, wounds galore
Battle fought, and words we swore
“DEATH TO THE FIENDS”
Ah yes, death to them, that is us.

God damn men, for men die
Die die, they do, as you and I
And we cry for our hearts and soul
For now we see what troubles we sew.

Poor me, I do wish for all
None to feel this burden of mine
A hurtful soul of deep fevered sorrow
That lays pleading to a dead God for morrow

For the morrow that I will be laid
In that villainous earth so cold
Till the worms lick my swollen sores
Then left to reek and rot, forever more

Why must I die lord, tonight
I see your eyes, glowing with might
God, I mustn’t leave this time
No, no, Tis not just’n or right

Time isn’t right, time, isn’t right
Our battle, our fight, or terror and trivialities
When I see into the creatures reared head
That will take me to the devil’s lair

No, time isn’t right, shouldn’t be
Not me tonight, mustn’t let me
Me oh my, I cry like a whipped lad
As I die tonight, under wind and rain

We leave this hurtful earth comrades
For the light of careful love possibly
Or a demons wrath and fury
For our bloody sins and cruelty.

Damn this life and loveless strife
All is damned, as I lay dead
And life leaves me, as who led me here
And time declares, be gone, my dear.

A Man In Memory

2002-11-22T00:19:00.000-05:00

Tall, prominent
A man, not dominant
Calm and refreshing
A man of self confessing
A man of caring
A man we will be missing

Soft calm words
From kind caring soul
Floating from soul of woods
Enlightening those he could.
Teaching those fresh minds
With great knowledge of all kinds.

SO with heaving heavy hearts
Sorrow filled thoughts
Grieving his graceful passing
Leading saintly soul to heaven
One we fondly miss
May we wish him peaceful bliss.

A Tree's Swing

2002-04-06T22:25:00.000-05:00

There once was a lake
With a happy smiling tree
With a single swing
What would sway in the breeze

A simplicity to happiness
And legacy to love
The swing would hold strongly
Every pull and tug.

How hard it must have been
For the limb of that tree
To hold such a burden
So very thoughtfully

But it flew, surely strong
From the apex, and summit
Through the depression swung
To the highest rung in succession.

The wind would caress that swing
From the beginning motion
Through the breeze singing
To the very end .

And then it would sway and stop
Eventually ending completely
And the lake would wink
To that sturdily standing tree.

As the love and happiness left
And headed towards the lake
Leaving a swing dangling
Still hanging for their sake.

And into the shimmering waters
With some wonderful memories
Two images left as lovers
In this story told for centuries.

Grievances

2002-04-02T00:00:00.000-05:00

Grievances float about the twisted vines
Swirling in a mist of misgivings.
Fireflies burn and stab my eyes
While the tears land with sparks upon iron.

Drop your hammer, undead misdemeanor
And grasp that anvil solid held
Pulling your face in fearsome symphony
Upon that iron surface, a cacophony.

Raining red fluid flung
Teeth streaming to the ground
Mush sinking upon your face
Into a skull battered song.

Hair in sparkling contrast
To the gleam of the anvil drowned
In softly dripping harmony
A face rises no longer grave.

You smile now, in no pain.
Those felt feelings dropped
No more awful disdain
For grievances of life’s faults.

Fairness Found

2000-10-18T23:52:00.000-05:00

From upon the muddy ground
I glance a fairness in the surround...

Across a lake into the trees
I see a carefree figure
Dancing perhaps, across the scene.

I tilt my head in curiosity
Wondering of this being I see
Dancing across that log.

But with the shadows
The glimpse is but a glimpse
As the trees hide this creature from me.

Then I tire of this game
And I lift myself aloft
To follow thee.

Past the stump
Where a foot did fall
Into a tree that held a warmth.

Then over a cliff
Into a river
To float over to a shadow.

I knelt there breathing
Wondering where it went
When I heard a voice.

“Come sing with me
This simple lullaby
Sweet silence soft.

Whistle note
Twist it into soft
Sweet silence we sing.”

And as if the crystal river
Had bent its serene voice
For only me to hear

I turned and sang
Into the shadow
Unknowing really, why.

And with a soft snap
Into view emerged
A soft foot sole.

Ankle followed
Adorned by a wreath
Gleaming a light to a face.

Eyes reflecting
An emerald glow
Seemed to hold me still.

The figure flowed
In silence soft
To the earthen floor.

Upon the muddy ground
I glance a fairness in the surround.

Drifting Away

2000-09-12T23:50:00.000-05:00

Twilight slides
Beyond one cloud white
From a whisper of a sun
The evening, now begun.

A jazzy interlude sings
Past the stars of my mind
Into the memory of a cloud
Now pink, red, loud.

Dancing, its life erratic
Almost smoke drifting
Above some ancient explosion,
Yet beautiful in her emotion

Subsiding slowly down
The color of cloud calms
As she sails beyond the night
And into her recess, out of sight.

Table Top

2000-09-12T00:48:00.000-05:00

Mirrored on the floor underglow
A table top above holds
Trinkets and knickknacks
Of careless positions intact.

Confusion he holds
For still and sound he stands
“Why do I hold these insipid thoughts?”
Asks soundly our table top.

One may sympathize
Yet care we not
For who really ever notices
Our helpful table top.

Wind Swept Sands

2000-02-09T01:10:00.000-06:00

In a silent world, of whispering winds
And streams of sand, that never end;
Things remind, the immortal mind
Of days and times, that don’t rewind.

The world revolves, in pantomime
An emotional sea, that calls to me.

In an single breath of essence preserved
By such a mortal world as this one absurd,
We stumble and fall, longing for more
Till the day we die, withering upon a shore.

19 Years

1999-12-04T22:09:00.000-06:00

19 years, and no trails
18 years, time gone
17 years, where am I
16 years, down a hole
15 years, what a song
14 years, down a hole
13 years, not a goal
12 years, fun galore
11 years, what else
10 years, time won
9 years, nothing lost
8 years, everything found
7 years, what more
6 years, health and cheers
5 years, nothing done
4 years, what a sight
3 years, love and bears
2 years, lovely, who cares
1 year, what a delight
And before...Just one.

Unknown Emotion

1999-09-28T01:02:00.000-05:00

Tip toeing across a silver stream of wonders
A caressing glimpse is obscured with tenderness.
Its fingers drift from shoulder to shoulder
With a slight chill of a reflection in morning’s frost.
A wraith of inhibitions it tis, sinking as the dawn,
Yet soundly silent, it is a wonderful sensation.
Not quite as warm as a lover’s breath,
And not as cold as the grief of the dead;
Tis an emotion unknown by a single name,
Although felt by each and everyone just the same.

Can’t Help the Loss

1999-09-01T23:05:00.000-05:00

In a breath of the morning sea
Her hair flowed softly across her face.
As the spring leaves sprout softly serene
Her dress shifted in emotional embrace.
So simple and fair
Yet incredibly sincere,
Movement so graceful
I would wipe away tears.

I can’t help the loss
The feelings that flow
Everlasting seas
Of emotions unwept
Contained internally
In a regretful hope.

As the winter winds and graceful sands
Blow across the dunes and drifts
Her gaze would fall upon my face
Warming and cooling my sensations.
Every word treasured
Each phrase a psalm
Her thoughts so kind
How was I so blind.

I can’t help the loss
The feelings that blow
Across the draining seas
That flow with my tears
As I said my goodbye
To her that cold night.

Now the sun has set with her eyes
That seemed to be my sun each night
That I beheld her gaze and smile
As a child in his mother’s care.
Sweet as nectar
An odor of beauty
Fragrance untamed
I’ll never smell again...

I can’t help the loss
The feelings that flow
Across the ocean blue
Of my tears I cried
That fateful night
That I had to say goodbye.

The Magic Kingdom

1999-09-01T00:20:00.000-05:00

Groups of waves
Flooding the streets
Streets of glory
Happiness caves
For the children
Are all seen
Running in the open
Joy is this scene
Parents groping
Holding energy back
Defeated alas ending
They victim, they crack
Energy doubles, fly
Sky is bright
Not as high as their eyes
But together they shine
Never letting a sigh
Hinder their energetic joy
Smiles gleefully glow
Glowing Gleefully slow
And as fast begun
They find no end of fun
Till down sets that sun
And frowns begin to grow
And energy flies
They decide
Stay till sun rises
And watching glory
The fireworks fly
As a sun would rise
The colors glide.
And smiles arise
In array, around the crowds
As streets still flooded
Even full of children
Mostly of soul
They stare in awe
Breathing in it all
Before taking the sleeping
Picking the youthful asleep
Atop their shoulders slow
And regretfully leaving
Slow and sure
For the gates before
They had so eagerly entered
With anticipation galore
Now little ones snore
and little at heart sore
With heart aflutter
Remembering, memories
Of memories, remembered
A magical transformation
Realizing...
Youth, never dies.

Walking By

1999-08-23T01:06:00.000-05:00

Can you hear the whisper
On the breath of a lifeless leaf
Floating softly to the withered ground
To sit upon the mud, soft and sound?

Can you see the transparent vision
In the moonlit puddle on the windless night
Shinning back at your sight so silently
As a carefree image of beauty?

When did you last stop
Breath, listen, and see
All that maybe could be
In your perceptions?

And in a turn we leave
And head for the future
In a past means of expression
To discover the above mentioned.

Only the moon sails below the horizon
As we walk through the puddle
Into the muffled society
And drowned out reality.

One More Moment

1999-08-23T00:01:00.000-05:00

In her walk, wings seemed to flow
As an angel lost in a thought of old.
From her eyes dreams would unfold
As in memories and thoughts of gold.
Ribbons of hair flow so softly
An image of a kitten’s tail
On silken linen on a sunlit morn
Appears in my remembered vision.
How often her gaze consoled my remission
Of pent up feelings and frustration,
Relieving all doubts and inhibitions
In a moment of carefree friendship
Without the troubles of prejudged ignorance.
Even her scent and aroma
Simple demeanor and cantor
Lead my heart asunder
In her memory
I could only wish
It were a moment longer.

Artistic Impressions

1999-07-13T22:20:00.000-05:00

Across the Florida ocean, there’s a place of inspiration.
Where the waves flow freely without hindering ropes.
No sails are needed to prevent drowning hopes
We’re free in our world of artistic impressions.

The visions float, as lovers walk the weary sands
They hold their hands, yet feel nothing grand.
Then swept in undying emotion
The painter’s brush wipes away inhibitions.

Our minds freely sail with our thoughts
In a hateless mirth that we’ve felt from birth
The seas hold music, the clouds hold our hearts
As we watch the world, and try to interpret.
Nothing compares, as our visions fill
With these impressions untamed
And visions sometimes insane,
Our artistic desires burn from our soul
In a flurry, then revealed to all.

A baby’s cry becomes a symphony
An effortless song of his humanity.
With a mother’s whisper and hand
The wails lighten to a nightly ballad.

Finery can be found, in the simplest avenue.
From the falling leaf, or growing mildew;
To the dark alley, Or your simple smile;
As the winds carry your heart for miles.

Most are blinded
By blinding infatuations
Listless wonders
Drowned in societal blunders.
People forget simple worlds
And the simple words.
From such a thing as beauty
To an emotion of love
Everything dwells in a fog of uncertainty.

Silently So

1999-07-03T00:33:00.000-05:00

With all the beauty in the world;
With all the love that The Lord has bestowed;
Why do I sit so silently so?

With great friends and family;
With wonderful living reality;
Why do I sit so silently so?

When all my troubles are idle:
When my hunger is easily remedied;
Why do I sit so silently so?

Without real hindrances or inhibitions;
Without incarceration or prejudices;
Why do I sit so silently so?

With a mother’s love and brotherly trust;
With personal sanity and self sincerity;
Why do I sit so silently so?

Maybe without love or happiness;
Maybe at times in the shadowed clouds;
Why do I sit so silently so?

But graced with all around me in awe;
Gifted by God’s love and enthralled;
Why do I sit so silently so?

Living as me in a mistful mirth and mindful spirit;
Giving what I may in a wishful tide of compassion;
Why do I sit so silently so?

Onward and forward I flow;
I will sit no more in shadowed thralls;
Why do I sit so silently so?

The Walking Dead

1999-05-10T01:06:00.000-05:00

Skeleton’s comb the Earth
Draped in ragged tissue
And old garments dragged
Across the earthen ground.

Their sockets stare forward
Unblinking with their motion
And cracked expressions
Or wretched depressions.

They hobble and fall
Caring nothing at all
Of Feelings unfelt
In their coldness breathed.

The bones of refuse
Or careless fellows
Walking the barren Earth
As dead skeletons and gore.

A march of cold corpses
Dripping sinew a bit
Scraping the ground
Their dead hearts pumping no more.

Description of Emotion

1999-04-30T23:45:00.000-05:00

Sifting hay through fingers
Feeling the roughness together
Under each nail
And against the skin,
Across the cheek,
Down the back,
Only to lay upon the ground.

Following fluid motion
A small commotion follows
As a skin felt murmur
A disquieting sensation
As an itch of frustration
By the hay’s irritation
To the skins emotion.

The Proposal

1999-04-30T00:09:00.000-05:00

I raised her head with a mere finger
So softly felt, twould be a mere illusion
If it weren’t for recognition in her expression.
In those soft green somber eyes
Calling to the leaves and evergreens
In a spring of New England,
Saying give me forever
And A tear of sincerity would grow
In a heart felt message of integrity.

She would smile so softly
With a surreal vision undeniably
Sweet and kindly sincere
As the trustful spring rains
That feed the tender daffodils.
Her heart’s emotions wept
The feelings same as mine,
A beautiful mutual expression
Lit in a golden spark sublime.

The Wishful Winds

1999-02-20T01:11:00.000-06:00

Faery’s know
A road to the winds
They tell only few
Which way to go

Past the river flow
They say to you
Into the sun
Is the path begun

Through a needle’s eye
Past a crooked nose
Into a sacred hearth
Is the way to fly.

Underneath the back stair
Into my mind’s eye
That stares into the future
And begins to wonder

The Faerys say
This is where most falter
For into our minds
We begin to wander

Instead of sinking
In that wishful sea
That breathes our soul
As winds of Faerys.

And by this sea
With the Faerys
And wishful winds
Reside future memories.

Sheep on a Shelf

1999-02-04T00:27:00.000-06:00

My sheep fell off the shelf.
They fell and bounced twice
But one landed by itself
Embraced by some mice
Where they tore and peeled
And searched and squealed
And my poor helpless sheep
That I bent over to keep.

Picking the poor creature safely
From the dirty ground below
I petted its head softly
And let our love, once more grow.
She bah-ed for me, and licked my hand
And then, nothing more
She lay still, nothing more to demand.

So I cradled the fair creature so fine
And wondered why she did die
But thought of nothing of mine
Only of what she did sigh.
Till I witness the other sheep in a line
Carrying themselves back to the shelf
I thought, how could this be
That they carried so strongly themselves
Back to that shelf under which, sat me.

This poor creature in my hand dead
And every other one living well
Why couldn’t one of them die instead
Than this one she, that bah-ed for me
Well, me’s thinking it be rough
And I sit hardly on lonely sheets
Thinking of my mind so tough
Not looking forward to future weeks.

Then an itch, carefree warmth
Simple heat, on reproach
as a breath felt by myself
The breath of my sheep approach
And in my hand she did move
and I cried my tears of love
For such a strong sheep she was
That even death, couldn’t contain her above

My Friend

1999-02-04T00:26:00.000-06:00

A friend he was
Yes, a true friend
Casual and relaxed
Social genius at best.

Talked with everyone
With a drink he conversed
Letting the smoke slide
Till his hand was immersed.

He cared too much
For me he vouched
To me he offered
Some from his pouch.

One line in a hit
He said would be sweet
All I needed, tried
That was it.

A friend he was
Yes, a true friend
Casual and relaxed I am
Now that I am literally dead.

Season Thoughts

1999-02-04T00:25:00.000-06:00

Horses rush through the snow
With happy sleight in tow.
Boughs of snow jump from it’s wake
Landing on my shoes of fine make.

A sparkling shine the sun does ring
With the songs that the children sing.
Melodies sweet as the apple pie
And bright as the glimmer in your eye.

What a blessed time we seem to forget
Until we see all our candles lit,
With their flames warming joined faces
Brought together despite previous places.

Ah, how happy the scenery can be
Without gloomy tragedy,
But caring harmony
Bright as the glowing Christmas tree.

Look at the streets and strings of lights.
See the sounds that ring each night.
Breath the cool air, fresh and pure
With the holiday scents this time of year.

What peace it does bring
To our hearts . .
Let the season ring,
Perhaps, till spring.

Repressed Insanity

1999-02-04T00:18:00.000-06:00

What a night
It is tonight,
As the stars whirl overhead
And thoughts fall to the earth.

Seemingly rain-
Long dripping drain,
Of those flowing fluid thoughts
That fall to the cold dark earth.

Such wonderment
Wishes of endearment,
Are the raining stars above
That are falling as simple drops.

Ideas to taunt
Maybe haunt,
My hard itching brain
With their cantering decent.

As a cold ghost
With me the host
To the screams and cries
Of the banshee’s wail.

Cruelty
Sodomy
Trips to the ground
From warm perch above.

This my trip
Of thoughts that drip
From above to earth
My Repressed insanity.

Remember the Youth, Young and Old.

1999-02-04T00:17:00.000-06:00

Childs of our age
They cry and laugh
Joyful
They see and know
Fearful
Of our villainous ways.

They think without knowing
Yet know more than seeing
Seerful
They seem to know
Fearful
We try to ignore.

Children our age
They hold and listen
Meaningful
They, heart and soul
Fearful
That time will toll.

This of all things
We must never ignore
Truthful
They are us and more
Fearful
That they will not be forever.

Remember?

1999-02-04T00:14:00.001-06:00

Sometimes, a wish so pure
Sparkles from me to you.

Sometimes, a dream so dear
Lives, from year to year.

The heartfelt passions
And fantasies unforgotten;
Glorious wonders,
Magnificent treasures;
All living soundly
In our mentality.

Sometimes, they come true
Not only for me, but for you.

Sometimes, they are forgotten
Sadly, left old and rotten.

Those pretty scenes of grasses
And the fields with castles,
Ballrooms with gowns and dresses
Even white perfumes and tresses,
That we long for
Forever more.

Sometimes, we dream of such fantasy
Yet, why is it lost with reality?

Reflected Flame

1999-02-04T00:14:00.000-06:00

Glossy Glass surface
Floating flows caress
Icy smooth vision
Enticing elegant confusion
Wondrous wisdom
A firelight’s reflection.

Rape

1999-02-04T00:13:00.000-06:00

Thinking, relying
The darkness shrinking.
The light everlasting
Is the side of the sky.

That guy, lifting breaking
Thrusting member.
Strikes the victim
And renders her weakling.

This happens, happened whore,
Not good girl no more.
The virgin lays dropped
All grace stripped,

Laying on the ground
Cold wet and bound;
Is this victim unwound
Spralled upon this ground.

Tears stain her cheeks,
Blood encrusted for weeks
Under her nails from him,
The one who left the film.

That sticky mess, never.
Could not remove forever.
She tried, yet it stayed
And washing, she cried.

Never, did she permit.
Never, was she lit.
A candle now engulfed
Is all that’s left dead.

An Old Girl’s Passing

1999-02-04T00:10:00.001-06:00

18 hours had flown by
On the cold winter’s night.
Too long for a young boy...
Too long, to cry just right.
The old girl had left,
And none remained
By her coffin
In the cruel rain.

Purple Clouds

1999-02-04T00:10:00.000-06:00

Clouds, hinting purple
Striking winds sail
Tinting clouds magenta
Simple hues entail
Slipping across air
Making thoughts clear

I look into that mist
Into hues and tints
Thinking of thoughts enlit
Happy scenes, they do hint
Hopefully something true
Some how, to lead you

The soft winds touch
Slightly felt by me
Could it be same with you?
Looking at clouds to see
Someone else out there
As I do so here.

Pipe On The Wall

1999-02-04T00:08:00.000-06:00

Discussions do fall
Upon the pipe on the wall
Painted pale peach
Held by random clamps
Chipped and scarred
Around it does reach
Seen and touched by all
Upon the pipe, many hands fall
When emotions and ideals shoot
None see simplicity behind
Simple steel cast mentality
Wisdom beyond unknown entities.

Our Glass

1999-02-04T00:05:00.000-06:00

Time slipping across my hands
As a stream trickling
Through this hourglass of sands
This timeless time
This hourly rhyme
As hands unclench
Clenched again
With thoughts of glass
Our glass of wine.
Clenched, grasped in grip
Shattering, birth to shards
Blood spilt on carpet, velvet
Soaked as if water on sand
On shore of ocean grand
Blue seas shining red
This carpet brewing, bled
Memories often rhymed
With thoughtful rhythm sublime
Sung at timeless scenery
And fragrant imagery
From flowers and crystal
To my mistral visage
Reflected upon shards, mental
Giving time, Rhyme's passage
And I sitting, wondering, thinking
Even grasping, empty glass.
Hourglass half sunk, draining.
Of timeless Rhymes
Rhythm again
Crying games and ties
To sunken fluid, therein lies
Memories of awful crimes.
Water slipping, and flowing
Through tunnels of sand
Velvet warmth glowing
As descendants reprimand
Blood caressed stains
Feelings forever remain
As film of wine on glass
Still on shards once cast
In velvet rug and hands
Even blood, on all lasts
While our glass gone
Hourglass’s song
Rhyming with time of mind
As the last grain silently falls
Settling, it calls to me
And my soul it does find
My hands clasped, clenched
Fiercely holding fine grain
Crying, to stay and stay
When rhythm flows to form
Another glass in my hand.
An upturned hour glass
Hourly rhymes
Rhythms sublime
Time’s passage and pressure
Of reflection on glass
Reflecting visage, a face
One once fallen from grace
Takes glass upheld in toast
To our glass in place
Over warm mantle piece
Peace in heart, a hearth
Of sacred birth, and being
Under standing on shore is me
Waves over sea to thee
A beautiful warm timely breeze.

I Once Was Home

1999-02-04T00:01:00.000-06:00

I once was home
Alone with myself
Thinking to me
This is all right.
I needed none
As none needed me.
Till I left and realized
What it was I hadn’t seen.
A spark lit, friendship cast
Forged fast, cured last
While home and happy
I was living finally
Till I left again.
Loneliness again began
But misguided truth was lost
Vulnerable I became
And knowing, I was never to be the same.

I once was home again
Shortly, a time so sweet
Furnace rekindled, only to cool.
Once again I left
To a new home alone
With only sparks of memory
To remember friendships grown.

Blooming Beauty

1999-01-29T23:01:00.000-06:00

A flower’s fragrance
Lifts up into the air
And settles very soft
Upon her emerald hair.

Happy within its warmth
She sits outside of time,
To think of nothing more
Than simple thoughts sublime.

Those thoughts then entice
To bring unknown reality
From incandescent form
Into current harmony.

And as a flower’s life
That ideal can then grow
To become everything
Withheld by only you.

Lost Rungs

1999-01-28T00:14:00.000-06:00

Aloft I stand
Looking down
Back to the ground
Where I once stood.

From this perch
I see my ladder’s rungs
From my first step
To the last.

However some gaps
Appear here and there
And I wonder
Who put those there.

And then I think
Or perhaps remember
They are lost rungs,
Events forgotten.

I know they were there
For they lead me up
To where I stand here
Looking down to them.

So I let them slide
Into my abyss
For I learned their lesson
Lost rungs forgotten.

A Single Thread

1999-01-13T22:23:00.000-06:00

A Single Thread

Gleaming in the morning sun
Shines this glowing thread.

It mimics a hair I once held
In my hand, twas enthralled.

And as a hair it swayed
With my breath I breathed.

In and out, it danced
My heart ensued a trance.

Like the thread did burst
A ray of hope at worst.

Spun of a lively linen
Reminded me of a woman.

Till time came to pass
Then as a thread it fell.

My last thread of hope
Spun heavily to the ground.

Hidden Bushes

1998-12-15T00:04:00.000-06:00

Leaves entwined in merciless agony
Wired around twigs and scerenity,
Twisted of deposits from nature
And from weather it endures.
Stinking of simplicity and degradation
As cuddled humbly in habitation,
Feathered fowl sit settled silently
Avoiding thorns of protective potency
And watch with smooth glossy eyes
Awaiting food, even hungry, never cries.

When...

From a threatening distance heard
Come sounds of murder endured
As creaking and groaning crawls,
Tracks and claws, booming it bawls,
Spouting fumes, blackness curls,
And stripped leaves on treds are twirled
And hidden bushes growing true,
Scraped from earth and dirt too;
Under twenty tons of dredging hardware
Stares a tiny morsal of fowl unaware.

Season Celestial

1998-12-14T23:16:00.000-06:00

One day of yearly occasion
Comes forth with heavenly warmth
To embrace a world harsh and vulgar
Within its hug of the good Lord’s love.

And within such a glow
The world seems less shallow
As ripples form within the light
And mankind sees wondrous delight.

One day of yearly celebration
Presents to us a greater feeling
Unsurpassed in its Peaceful nature,
We celebrate this celestial season.

Communication

1998-10-10T23:24:00.000-05:00

Strength of words
I permit
Harsh of hand
Twill resist
Accusations
May be true
Old frustrations
Haven’t a clue
But retribution
Not revenge
Through conversation
Makes amends.

Sitting Boy

1998-10-10T00:36:00.000-05:00

With the whistling winds in a tunnel’s bend
A boy sits and stares at a timeless end.
Backed into the corner he frowns
Holding back the flow of tears.

Nothing is clear from behind his eyes
Thinking of nothing, but windy skies
Into which he must eventually venture
To pursue his life’s relentless horrors.

Nothing is bright as that shinny diamond.
Everything is cold, or black as coal.
Nothing fits like a ring of endearment.
Everything falls into the infernal pit of hell.

So the boy sits and closes his eyes
To dream of all the better times.
Maybe a dream of the warm sunshine
When everything will be well.

Silver Dagger

1998-10-10T00:35:00.000-05:00

A silver dagger
Held aloft
Over a pillow
Quilted soft
Threatening dream
The thought surreal
Bone curdling scream
How do we deal?

A silver ax
The dagger becomes
Held upon high
Troubled apex
To plummet with sigh
Deep through thorax
To death a lie
Deadly relapse.

A silver ball
Swinging side to side
Above the head
In-between and fast
Sickness in bed
Dark black silk
Nothing, instead
Live long guilt.

Outside of Me

1998-10-10T00:05:00.000-05:00

When you hear my name,
What do you see
Internally?

When you see my face,
What do you feel
That may appeal?

When you hold my hand,
What thoughts transpire
Or may retire?

When I speak my mind,
What judgment calls
From silent pause?

When I leave you there,
What do you think
As time does sink?

When I hear you sigh,
What do I see
Outside of me?

The Empty Seat

1998-05-29T00:30:00.000-05:00

Empty and cold
Dark in shadow
Is that seat
Ahead of me
Is it alone?
Or maybe not.
Maybe wanting?
Without a doubt.
But empty it is
And with beckoning cry
It asks for one
Such as I.

Unfaithful

1998-05-29T00:29:00.001-05:00

Wretched ties
Spread forward and out
From heart’s lies
Pumping trust apart.

Startled and confused
The veins and nerves
Of both me and you,
We get what one deserves.

Knight’s Gaze

1998-05-29T00:29:00.000-05:00

Under corroded plates
And stained metal,
Stares the knight’s
Gaze terminal.

Islands of Mystery

1998-05-29T00:07:00.000-05:00

From the rolling plains
The man can see
As you or I
But won’t believe.
He traverses
Past the fields,
Entering forests
Covered in shadows.
Till the traveler,
Breathing heavy
Breaks through the barriers
Revealing mountain terrain.
Climbing the cliffs
Covered with copses
And withered and deteriorating
The traveler climbs
Till breathing heavier,
Summit is achieved
But in the distance
Our traveler sees
Some speckled islands
And he is wondering...
“What is there to see,
On those islands of mystery?”

Can You See

1998-05-26T23:07:00.000-05:00

Can you see beyond the doorway
To the island in the sea?
Or through the window and sunbeam
To the floating leaves?

Maybe you see the sun
Or the clouds or fog.
If you’re lucky
You’ll see all the ordinary.

But if you are favorable,
And maybe a bit crazy,
The world shall open up to thee
Showing you infinite beauty.

Mother Nature

1998-05-26T00:21:00.000-05:00

The silent winds through a willow tree
Form a shape so very simply.

It twists and twirls with a mother’s hand
As she combs and shapes her infant’s sand.

A creatures head emerges from the pile
Floating in the air, forming for a while.

Till softly a fawn floats to the grass
And walks clean as crystal glass.

The mother smiles with a wishful sigh
And turns to watch father time nigh.

I dreamt

1998-05-26T00:06:00.000-05:00

I took a walk
Like several I knew,
Past an orchid and field,
Through the grass to you.

You held me surely
As a withered vine,
Grasping the dead tree
Your hands and mine.

But more appropriately,
A ribbon so fine
Within my menagerie
Were we entwined.

And then I awoke
This night so blue
After the walk I took
Like several I knew.

House on the Hill

1998-05-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

An old open house
On an old dry hill.
Sits calmly still
With rotting window sills.

Rats and mice infest
While ghosts do the rest
To keep the curious at bay
With fear of such pests.

Inside lays a world unseen
As the door reveals all
Sitting on the clouded walls,
Dry wall quite ready to fall.

Old chairs on the dusty floor
Giving texture, emotionaly ample:
Are cobwebs and soot galore
To adorn the table and mantle.

Candle lit by aparition bright
Lights portrait of mystery,
Or a sight of poetry
In his wrinkled ancestry.

Lines of age, and happiness.
Signs of his long gone past
Like his lasting craziness
Lit by an impressionist.

Till resting soundly on a heap
In the corner seemingly asleep,
The ghost in hidsight glows
Revealing what the portrait shows.

And as the light goes out
Over his withered remains,
So do the long cast shadows
From an old open house.

Daughters

1998-03-17T23:26:00.000-06:00

My daughter
Laura
My daughter
Sings her songs
Laughs so long
Cries so hard
Feels so heavy
My daughter
Sarah
My Daughter
Invaded privacy
Unburdened lay
Lifeless on the hay
Body in decay
My daughter
Terra
My daughter
Happy soulless
Fingerless
And tearless
I see her less
My daughter
Her name here
Of your’s
Your daughter
Care for her.

Kindness Cries

1998-03-08T00:11:00.000-06:00

Twisted winds encircling hands
Of green wisps and fleshy tones
Forms a figure and graceful shadow.

An image of purple tints aglow
Forms from the lights entoned
To the figure of sights seen alone.

Impressions of slow illusions
Forming from the wreckage
Seen only as time’s relentless wages.

The translucent image wavering
With tears dripping across her visage
As a child young sitting so soundly still.

A choking sob or weak gasp
Echoes across the silent hills
Through the canyons of wars.

Drips with salt onto crayon lines
Drawn across will and testament
Of an age’s remorseless cares.

Her cartoon image is cold and worn
By the running of tearful strains
As off the image, they drip when lifted.

Once in air, burned and charred
By the fires of hell storm’s hands
As weapons and the fury of man.

She cries for her beauty glowing
Blown into the air a floating cloud
Of smoke burnt to a cinder crisp.

Dumped

1998-03-07T23:51:00.000-06:00

One fine day
A laughing child lay
On the cool grass.

One cool night
He thought he might
Just court a lass.

One awful dawn
Found on the lawn
Was his rejected ass.

Breath

1998-03-07T23:02:00.000-06:00

Breath
You may need the air
As dark shadows crawl
And blood stains the soul.
Breath
For the time may come
When intake of air
Will not be available.
Breath
For a vacuum is at hand
As a whirlwind blowing
Clear across this desolate land.
Breath
For you never know
When your last breath
Will come to call. So...
Breath

Search For A Poet

1998-03-06T00:46:00.000-06:00

How does one say so much
As the humble poet?

With but one word,
He shows pain.
One phrase
And a world of disdain.
Love
Beauty
Even a life’s
Whole terrain.
Who else can make
A warm vision of rain,
But the humble poet
Sitting in the shade.

Someone tell me,
Where is this poet
That can say such things?
For I wish to meet him
But one fine day.

Stories Told

1998-02-24T00:47:00.000-06:00

The man down the street walks
And sits with and unending smile.
He remarks of the winds and trails
That he encountered along his many miles.

The stories grown from wisdom
And a transgression of time shown
Are his fables and myths
Of odd realism and sincerity.

They touch the soul
Though we doubt his truths told
And disregard his funny smile
Until one day we have grown old.

Chicken Chasing Goat

1998-02-21T23:18:00.000-06:00

A young goat banters and bays
To the chickens passing by,
The rocks and twigs
Creaking by his side.

Pawing at the ground impatient
Our goat leaps to the road
To play with the chickens
On the other side beside the toad.

When a vehicle slams his head
Rending our goat quite dead
As the frog croaks a croak
For the silly chicken chasing goat.

Unos

1998-02-21T01:03:00.000-06:00

Eyes of grain
Shining so surreal
Under curtains,
Golden brown hair,
Billowing with motion
Of her form
Graceful commotion
Across the floor.

Fairness unmarred
Glowing bright
Emotions lit
Soaring in heights
Past star from her eyes;
So surreal her gaze
Like a river’s choice
Through mountain’s course.

As a brilliant sunrise
Proud and true
Her river flows
Through me and you
To hearts warmed
By the rising sun
As stones once cold
Now a golden tone.

Running Girl

1998-02-21T00:21:00.000-06:00

Run little girl
Run little girl
Run around the cabin store
To find your candy bar.
Race to the door little girl
Past the man with dark hair
Run little girl
Run little girl
Run around the Eiffel tower
Past the Seine and de jour
To the river and Cafe L’amour
Run little girl
Run little girl
The men are all waiting
Race little girl
Your heartbeats are racing
Fly little girl
You’re the one they’re chasing
Run little girl
Run little girl
Around your padded cell
Calm down little girl
You’ll tire yourself to death.

Dead Fall

1998-02-11T23:43:00.000-06:00

A shadow falls sufficiently grand
Past the hour hand of grandfather clock.
Twirling mustache as the snow is curled
Above his lips so soft and surreal
His eyes glint with the embers, soft,
Glowing, incredulous light of wisdom.

The power of his shadow so strong
Grasps a heart long left hollow
In a fever of devotion and wanting
Asks for the shadow to choke the heart.

Grasping, panting, tightening, gasping
The air flow slows as the darkness closes
And the clock’s final tick so grand
Sounds to end a life in the slow falling snow.

A Piece of Bark

1998-02-11T00:07:00.000-06:00

My piece of bark
Riveted with rocks
Pounded by feet
From the withered path
Of forest of insanity.

Stained with my blood and tears
Cradled under my arm
Loosely roughing my side
Clinging to tattered clothing
The bark of my mentality.

Then into the fire it goes
Tossed carelessly away
To the heated wind of hate
As I throw my past away
To renew my personality.

Humble Bench

1998-02-11T00:06:00.000-06:00

I sit upon
This humble bench
Hard with splinters
A picnic table
Carved engraved
Stained everyday
Memories today
Yesterday’s histories
And tomorrow’s mysteries.

Sands of Time

1998-02-06T00:43:00.000-06:00

When times wear thin
And feelings grow
One questions themselves within.

When feelings grow
And blow with the winds
One questions why they think so.

When minds are grown
And flow over the sands
One questions where they go once thrown.

When sands are sent
And the hourglass lays silent
One questions where all that time went.

Dreams and a Wish.

1998-01-24T23:47:00.000-06:00

I see a flower pedal
Of shades of sunlight
Glancing her face;
Image in twilight
As the moon rising
To the night stars,
Like pedals of dreams
Floating as a feather.

Wondrous motion
A notion of love.
Thoughts cradled kindly
In arms thought of,
And laughed at longingly;
A simple dream,
A mans idiocy
Like a wind’s transparency.

I see an open hand
Where two should be.
Alone there I stand
Before the blue sea
That reflects the moon,
Stars, sunlight, twilight,
And facial tenderness
Like a pedals open bloom.

Our Flow

1998-01-16T00:22:00.000-06:00

A river’s smooth caressing flow
Soothes the river’s tow regressing
Past memories of golden snow
That fall slowly transcending...

Growing no more a flow
Than slowly flowing goes
As the white snow flying
Past the winds never dying.

Such a sight to see
Me and you and thee,
Around this river three
Encircling this ivy tree.

The waves weaving
About ankles and toes
Us three in repose watching
How this river flows.

The waves of emotion and tones
Set small pebbles and stones in motion
Round the whirlwinds of water
That whisk away to each other.

And together alone
Like a cyclone of snow
That falls and grows
Just as this river flows.

Flowing as a memory in repose
To stop and go with the winds
And even friends I suppose
Like a river’s caressing flow.

Childish Ordeal

1997-12-21T23:19:00.000-06:00

The sad Child sat there
Sulking in the sun beam.
Tears no longer strained
From hurting eyes.

Only muddy streaks remained
On his poor sullen face
As the sun dried
Each and every disgrace.

His mother wailed in the background
Until daddy halted mother’s face,
Shadowing the sun for a mere instant
With an eclipse of utter hate

Daddy’s smug tight beard
And mother’s tangled locks,
Never touched his cheek;
Prevented he must.

Sanity rekindled
As pain flared, till terminated...
The child reborn
No longer cared.

Future was born, with silver sheen
And creeping insanely
The crimson screen
Tore with flavor melancholy.

Drips of gore in the sunshine
With the rays of delight
That shone from his twinkling eyes,
A boy with freedom in sight.

THE WICKED CALL

1997-12-15T00:52:00.000-06:00

Late at night.
The wicked call.

Something slight.
And something calm.

A whispering squall
The catering keeper
Laughing his fill
Filling your glass.
Humble host
Or cursed ghost?

Midnight bells
Ring their call.

Silent movements
Rendered sensational.

Flickering candles
Haunted halls
Laughing echoes
About the walls
Jingling your glass
Shaky and scared.

Oh the fear
Grateful song

Lay down my dear
This won’t take long.

Sleep, sleep
Drop off into our...
Netherworld
Sleep, sleep
Dream and wonder
Set your soul asunder.

Late at night
Hear the wicked

Midnight bells
Calling to you.