What is the shape of your Love?
Where are its boundaries?
Where does the space of your Love
occupy the memories
the edges
the points of tension
enmeshed in the masterpiece
of you?

I just want to be held
To be loved
And cherished
I just don't want to be alone anymore

They say the pen is mightier than the sword
So I’ll use my pen to write these words.
I’ll load each word with emotion
until they are full
Full of smiles and tears and laughs
So full they explode
Off the page
As if fired from a gun
The same gun I use
To fire my words.
For so long you were
A victim
To a gun
That fired words that caused damage.
I pray the words fired
From my gun
Do no such damage.
I pray they
Fall softly upon your ears
Like soft rain drops of a spring shower
I pray that you
Never again
Feel the need to bite the bullet
And swallow your words
That are filled with your feelings
For no matter what they hold
I will want to know
What you feel and what fills you.

Sometimes, I feel too old and cynical to appreciate the beauty of anything anymore, and it's times like these I'm tempted to walk around at night with headphones on and listen to that one song from Blonde Redhead with the heavy piano and ah's as the only lyrics.

There is agony in my ecstacy
Pain beneath the scab
I place my dreams on "holding"
as I face the winter's drab

My Earthly loss is settled
My Heavenly gains abound
I'm tempestuous in my room alone
justifying time above the ground


I gift a deadly raptor
The chains have held me blind
I whisper please Lord don't forsake me
Remember me when it comes my time

Poets become a person
no  longer bound by words of deeds
They crumple up the paper
As they cast away the weeds

The words run cold as crystals
forming outside the frozen glass
I still away the moments
like they be unto my last

The blue sky no longer enthralls me
Neither does the night
What used to be so enticing
no longer seems so right

I say , I don't know
way too often now it seems
When sparrows flutter all about
Are they living out their dreams