Flashes of yesterday’s garden,
deep green under a gray sky--
I step into the canvas, moving
slowly, regretful and watchful,
with the weight of past light.

So many colored years,
some bright, some somber,
and you, the voice that ripened
youth, the accented syllables
opening the hours between
cliffs and sky, your presnce
re-appearing in soft explosions
of living, so painful to let go.

I pray for change, impermanence,
for last year’s dust to settle to
acceptance, to turn over the pages
of the past and to forgive everything.

I've played cards with Plato
Dined with Edgar Alan Poe
I lived in places of pain ,
Places of sorrow
I shared a cell
With men nobody wants to know
I've seen the writing on the wall
The epitaph of fools
I've seen history made
I've seen history fall
I've heard old men beg for youth
And youth beg for the grave
And somewhere in-between
The thunder calls

I've been up on the plateau
Where wise men talk with the wind
I've seen the fading light of God
Heard the tales of children
Around the campfires at night
Stories of monsters
Darkness and light
I've watched the flames dance
A dance of memories and rage
And somewhere in-between
The thunder calls

I've ridden' your wild horses
From the concrete jungle
To the wild wild wilderness
I've turned to see your beauty
Echo in some strangers eye
Then fade with age
I've heard the old woman say
To late is the day you die
And somewhere in-between
The thunder calls

I'll drown my sorrows
In this cup of poison
Stand and howl at the moon
Beg for your forgiveness
And I'll crawl for you
Across broken glass and bones
And I'll crawl for you
Like only a man can crawl..

And somewhere in-between
The thunder calls...

Gypsy

~For Ayesha~

for simply put,
or
simply taken,
they’re a disguise...

eternal guards on duty,
alphabet soldiers that
grow more vigilant

standing reef,
a barrier,

a thousand years to erosion complete.

this is the right poem, but the wrong words. Mystified me, how
can this be? such a young person, whose words speak to me?

If we are not our words, what will we become?

Each had somehow been there before
vowed invariably never ever to return
bewilderment all written on their face
they labelled it the 'darkest continent'

symbols, images, silhouettes marked
the scene--  beyond words was the experience
the self felt it was cast into purgatory
but from its own mind couldn't find deliverance.

In soft light,
Veiled by the air itself
Sits turquoise waters,
Emitting an aged gray
Towards distant eyes.

A soundless world,
Save the bubbles of noise
Which harbor life as we know ir.

The water’s gentle gale
Pushing lopsided blades
Towards a clashing sea;
Tossing them around the current.

I've been running from a heavy sky.
The clouds are black and round,
and in this chaos I'll lose my

drive to ever cry.
I watched the clouds as they dripped and frowned.
I've been running from a heavy sky.

I guess I'll just repeat myself, and fry
the parts I love of my life, black edg'd around,
and in this chaos I'll lose my

will to ever try,
I can feel it as I sit on the ground,
I've been running from a heavy sky.

It sits inside my mind's eye.
Like the worst syndrome of the pound,
and in this chaos I'll lose my

thoughts as they say "bye";
leave me to the lapsing howl of my brain as I walk. Oh! Spellbound,
I've been running from a heavy sky.
And in this chaos I'll lose my-

I am like a soggy leaf
Flapping haphazardly
In a wet winding wind
That may occasionally
Kiss you wetly, gently
Upon your cheek
You will then
Tear me off
And cast me asunder
As i fall
Crunched, and crumbling
To the moist wet earth below
Then trodden underfoot
With only the imprint
Of your size sixes
Left embedded in my wrinkled memories.
Or would you,
Keep me, and take me home?
Forever to remember
That wet kiss, on that stormy day
With fondness, and fun
Dry me out
Then press me
Buried inside
Then under
A few volumnous
Tomes?
I would be very impressed!
by Jemia