i tire of the dense, wretched grip of the night
dry the **** of boredom from my skin
**** in the glow of the moon
and walk to the edge
where I am swallowed by the black
i peel back the stark
where the true light burns
where the breath of forced solace
is at least
visible

and when the last of the shadows climbed into his bucket
the little boy that no-one knew
whispered something to them and carried the bucket to the ocean's edge
he was seen by several setting the bucket in the water as a wave approached
then turning towards the other children along the beach
and motioning them to come
which they did, some 60 or 70 of them
suddenly drawn to this boy that no-one knew
he looked back to the sea
at the crest of the horizon
a dome shaped craft that dwarfed any vessel known to man
emerged from beneath the waves
suddenly hovered silently above the beach
darkening the skies
it was there but a moment
and was gone
when the astonished crowd turned their gaze towards the young boy
he was gone
as was their own
December 22nd, 2112
seventeen minutes and 21 seconds before the Sun died

Time, ever present
Fleeting ghost
Like a dream it will send you drifting
Floating like a whisper
Through a sky of echoes
Drowning like a thought
In seas of color
Adrift in sleepy detachment
Like an infant
Fixated on a clown mobile
Dangling above it's crib
Until a memory grabs you
Perhaps the smell of vanilla
Or the barely heard barking
Of a distant, restless dog
As you lay in the quiet moments before sleep
And you are back in the warmth, the comfort
The shadow
That is yours alone

Lips move silent to treated voice
technically altered in a vacant room
smiling clueless to clueless drones
their thoughts suppressed since mother's womb
manufactured superstars
dressed and fed by faceless greed
their lives a myth
a stagnant dream
without a truth on which to feed
resist with me
this vacuous realm
lifeless words and endless trite
follow closer to the heart
on vapor trails of tear's twilight

I have found my place
where I wish to return
again
and again
where the wind dances along the swells
then lands upon you with the gentle
yet powerful crash of the wave
again
and again
where the Sun says so much more upon it's departure

God knew that this is where we would come
to see him
to know him
to understand that beauty like this was intended
I am lost in my awakened dream
these outer thoughts
these outer visions
these Outer Banks

sharp as a razors edge
your tongue slices hearts and souls alike
I dare you to speak

when the fires truly begin
will you find yourself hesitant to depart
to begin anew...spirit cleansed

in the company of these
chosen ones
I felt the weight of cold stares
rein down like led sleet
tearing me away bit by bit
without a word spoken
their eyes
their hawkish eyes
and subtle feigns

in her company
I am transparent
an equal in her eyes
where all truth resides
where all that matters lives
and truth be known
they are beneath us

I see the varying yellows and reds
of leaves dancing to the ground
after a slight wind
I see bluejays, cardinals and robins
jockeying for position on the birdfeeder's step
I see deer walk across the field
as I peer from the kitchen window
they seem at home in their freedom
I see the distant mountaintops fading as the Sun yields
to the approaching night
I see the emerging stars and the glow of the moon
as it begins it's nightly watch
then I see you
secure in the maple frame
I gaze endless
until the call of sleep awakens me
my home is wrapped in beauty
but all the beauty I see
begins in this frame
in this face
so far away

on a clear cold night
came a streak of warm blue light
I awoke under the Sun

a fly landed on my shoulder and says;
'say Bro! put a spoonful of that mint chocolate-chip ice cream
to the side and I'll just chill and let you enjoy the rest of your bowl.
whattya say, my man?'
I pondered the offer for a minute
but flies ain't my favorite creature
so I smacked his *** and he did a tumble on the coffee table,
brushed off his wings and said;
'big mistake my man
big mistake!
I wanted to be friends but you gotta go bein' an ***-hole!
well, you'll regret the rejection of my offered friendship
and with that he buzzed off
that night at 3am I woke up and the fly was sittin' on my nose
'WAKE UP *****!
guess what! I just spent 20 minutes rollin' around in fresh dog dootie
and now I'm tap dancin' on your nose...ya like that!?
I think I'll spend some time in your fat neighbor's arm pit
before I say hello tomorrow night
okay...now you go back to sleep so I can wake you up'
and he woke me up 4 more times that night
he came the next night and did it all over again
he did this for weeks until I was on the verge of losing my job
and my sanity from lack of sleep
then one night he woke me up and said;
'Well, have you learned your lesson, ****** bag?
when someone offers their friendship for very little in return,
accept it with open arms and not a closed heart'
He was right
I admitted that I was wrong and shouldn't have rejected him
just because he was a fly
'Alright....now, you got any of that mint chocolate-chip ice cream?'
I'm afraid not little dude
'No problem...tell ya what...next time ya drop a deuce,
don't bother to flush'
and we laughed until the Sun came up.

when snow has settled
and Sun is high
when dark gives way
to familiar sky
centuries have passed
since the final cry
fell silent on deaf ears

life begins anew

it is only a poem to her I say
this young child's query who exhibits dismay
but daddy it's so sad
I don't like it this way
let me fix it to make you smile
to make you happy for just a while
you'll like it better
you'll like my style
I'll change dark to light and shadows to Sun
it will be much better by the time I'm done
you'll see daddy
I'll make it fun
you can read it when you're all alone
when the Sun has gone
and I have grown
then call me on the telephone
to tell me you love me
and I'll say
it's only a poem daddy

the essence of you remains
in thought
but you are fading from vibrant color
to etched gray lines
who I am now is measured by your time
away from me
the efforts of others now fruitless
and unrequitted
perhaps it is a slight to the giver of life
but I cannot stay here without at least
the whisper of you
and should I not find you
beyond my last breath
then I shall die with you
in my final thought

gracious green rolls over me
like wind over smooth rock
relenting to the eastern shore
and vast sea

my window
to endless flickers
orbs from eons past
speak to me as if time
were a minor,
perhaps non existent entity

whisper to me once more
those words you spoke
the first time we set eyes upon the night
together

if only you could lay here
breathe in the air of forever
and view in wonder
our souls chasing the stars

There are times in our lives when challenges may come
in the form of phenomenon
a remarkable word
for in definition it is; 'something that can be observed or perceived; a rare occurrence'
I believe most of us experience at least one phenomenon in our lifetime
It can be a life altering event or it can be immediately forgotten
as phenomenon raises questions, and questions raise inquiry and inquiry takes time
and most are simply too busy to delegate time to such frivolous things
I have lived a very mundane and ordinary life
yet I have witnessed more than my share of phenomenon
as a child I watched what I first believed to be a blimp
glide across the night sky without a sound
a strange light pulsating from within
it reached its closest point to me
then disappeared from my sight within seconds
in the blink of an eye
more recently I experienced a visitor in my home
for several weeks I could not see or speak to this visitor
but I knew the day he arrived and the night he left,
the most frightening night of my life
I've seen phenomenon in the form of coincidence that defy logic
not once but many times
and I watched a person who had passed to the other side
return to life

When it appears before you...embrace it
absorb and remember it
for it is real

here
cloaked within the desolate,
merciless shadows of time
i cling to that which has held me
when the dark becomes darker
and the hours become longer
i clutch the only hope remotely viable
in this wretched isolation that follows me
not like a curse
but more a tortured friend
i dream in the pleasure of sleep
and scorn my first waking thought
encircle me now
your shade is my only salvation
here

here lay the bones that dry
in the desert Sun
alongside those of the turkey vulture
that devoured the skin
before it rotted
here lay the shoes
that dropped as she run
screams that ran along the sand
until an iguana
heard a faint sigh
here lay the rusted remnants
of his 56 Ford
only 6 miles away
and 12 miles beyond
lay the bones of this sick *****
who in his frenzy to ****
forgot to stop for gas

fragmented truths split the porcelain dolls posing in the next room
forever waiting on the badly impersonated wood shelves
for someone to break them
to save them from this torture
and they begin their well rehearsed lines this night
that will lead to raised voices and vile threats
that will lead to loss of control
loss of dignity
and something will get thrown
a glass, a spoon, a plate of salsa and chips
she will work her way to the bottom of the stairs
and allow herself one final scream before ascending
to her room
she will contemplate the porcelain dolls
as she catches a glimpse of them within arms reach
and they secretly plea for her to do it
but in their simple quiet beauty
they hold the only bit of sanity she can still touch
her only reason to cry

In light of day
I feel no more
I work I play
I shut the door
to feelings only night does hold
feelings deep within the cold
the cold and icy wall that shields
that which burns
that which yields
to secrets no-one shall discover
to dreams left vacant for my lover
questions too come with the night
to play the game or bare the light
this light that shines its brightest when
the Sun has gone
the dark descends
but why the thought so quickly gone
when day arrives
when rays of dawn
pour through the window
upon the wall
into thought
erasing all
I felt with night
I thought with light
that burns within

they search for the innocence in us
the naivety
the untriggered thought
when knowledge now comes in such small increments
as to be insignificant
life falters
you cannot create emotion, elation
sadness
when you have lived long enough
to rise above such mundane,
humane feelings
it is the curse of near perfection
I pity you
searching those empty, dark eyes
I sense how you long to be
human
again

there is little light as i review
the empty pages i have filled
barren back roads map the years
stepping back
out of the Sun
the voices spoke
it is safe down here
it is quiet
what light remains
flickers weak
like wick submerged in melted wax
shadows dance
the voices speak
it is safe down here
it is quiet

i am unprotected
at the mercy of
in the grip of
these most vile tormentors
they visit when i am most distraught
and play for me my most delicate dreams
the precious moments i have lost
that lead to solace i'll never know
outside these lucid scenes

demons of a tortured mind
the life i've missed
played before me these eternal nights
the lost dreams of a fool

they have arrived
the little girl in her pretty Sunday dress
and hat with red ribbon
laughs in delight as her new puppy jumps
pretending to nip at her hand
and the parents smile from the park bench
as a breeze whipped in Summer smells
and a far off awakening storm brings a coolness to their skin
the tops of the trees look like waves of blending greens
from above
and the sensing of change awakens the resting birds
they join others in flight to the south
and from a higher view the shadow is seen
like a moving wall
making it's way down the coast
the Sun disappears
mile after mile
inquisitive heads turn to the darkening skies
and one by one discover this is no storm
not shadows cast by clouds
but of something else
they have arrived
and they have sealed off the Sun
twenty eight thousand years would pass
before their return
to claim this prize for themselves
the lifting of the seal
they inspect their new home with anticipation
and fascination
a little one runs past a park bench
two frozen sculptures are huddled together
and two more appear to be playing
in timeless wonder
the little one turns to it's elders
hoping to gain approval
to pick up the pretty hat with red ribbon

I believed she had fallen
into the dark of her mind
to forever languish in a sea of shadows
but she had only toyed with her thoughts
walking the edge of the abyss
she kept one thought alive
and here
now
in the life giving light of the Sun
she passes unknowing
that in one moment
long ago
our lives had crossed
and somewhere within that instant
in the whole of time
one life was returned
and another began

demons took you
haunted by your innocence
and the power of your convictions
I am saddened by this life
unfulfilled
I mourn for what we lost
perhaps a Saint to be
a reflection of God's will
your light shone bright
through the cracks of hell
I trust you reside in the purest of light
that your soul shines in another
and that I shall again witness
the beautiful smile of Anneliese

and as I face the fires of a new day
I place my truth in a jar
like an old man's teeth
twisted, honest smile
waiting for me
and the hours burn
the shore more distant
the eye less clear
yet I make my way
and undo the lid
hoping, searching I return
to me

....and so they swam together
the Bluegill and the Sunfish
respectful of one another
surviving each other
sharing the moths and flies and grasshoppers
that i provided them
taking turns snatching each from the surface
in their 10 gallon pond
that sits on a table in the corner,
serene
one day I mistakenly added a 3rd
and together the Bluegill and the Sunfish attacked,
plucking one eye of the stunned little Perch
'If you wish to view us swimming together
whilst you contemplate another pathetic poem,
do not add a 3rd to our happy little pond
unless you plan on getting a larger pond!'
it was difficult to understand them through the bubbles,
but I got the message
I had no room for a bigger pond
so I let them be
I took One-Eye Perch back to the big Pond and released him
I hope he's still not swimming in circles
for many months they gave me much pleasure
I'd watch them chase each other through the sunken tugboats
and fake sea plants
seeing their surprised, then angry looks
when they'd bite down on a rubber worm I'd toss in their pond
only to eventually laugh about it
very often they'd come to the corner closest to the tv
and watch 'The Simpsons' with me
One day I realized that they had grown too big for their little home
and I sadly faced the fact that they must be returned to their birthplace;
the Hill High Pond
the next morning I gathered up Bluegill and Sunfish in a small bowl while they slept
I paddled a canoe to the middle of the Pond at daybreak and awoke my friends
at first they seemed confused, but it quickly dawned on them where they were and what my plan was
I gently lay them one by one into the clear, calm water
as they swam away slowly
turning to wave their little fins in both goodbye and thanks
a Carp the size of Moby **** appeared from below and made a quick snack of them both
a tear welled in my eye as I stare dumbfounded at the unsettled water
a Catfish that looked remarkably like Fred Sanford
stuck his head and whiskers out of the pond just long enough to say;
" Ain't that a *****!?"
I paddled reluctantly back to shore
where I spotted an old man fishing from the edge
apparently he had witnessed the entire episode
"Years ago I got friendly with a tuna I'd caught in the Black Sea
came home one day just in time to see his tail hangin' outta my cat Charlie's mouth
first rule of the Sea, son
Never get attached
they'll just break your heart"
...and so goes my tale of Bluegill and Sunfish
a tail of two fishes

In the back of Brewsters
where I always sit
watching the ladies dance
weaving their way through the gray cigarette smoke
clicking curves as the strobe light dances with them
Gloria serves up the intoxicating mixes
and teases the ***** hopefuls
who know they haven't a 'snowball in hell's' chance
the music thumps as Manny pummels
another joker who had a bit too much
as the hour of closing draws near
she slides by my table and smiles an invitation
I've been noticing her noticing me
as her 3rd partner heads to the head
leaving an opening for a 4th
not one to pass up an opportunity
I move onto the floor and quickly
work up a sweat that blends
with the rising inferno
'Smooth Operator' ends the chaos
and our bodies are now one
speaking in sighs and moans
of what is now obvious
this dance will not end at the end of this song
Gloria winks again as I grab my jacket
from the back of the chair
the smoke parts as we make our escape

pause
if for a moment
let your life force
melt into the energy that surrounds us
from battles fought within this
and alongside those occurring centuries past
from the first innocent child to see the Sun
we are the sum of these energies burned
we are the children of what came before
ever changing from ingredients
added to evolution's melting ***
from sea to cave to moon
and beyond
perhaps a home reflected
in the eye of the Hubble
energies link will lead us there
our beginning

A ghost is at my window
her eyes a demon red
she waits in patient silence
then moves upon my bed
she bends my dreams to please her whim
she steals my lover's sleep
unfolds her lust to pull me in
my soul now hers to reap
until the Sun creeps in to free
my heart in day's return
a ghost waits at my window
her kiss again shall burn

I walk in dreams of faint vanilla
left to tease my senses after you have gone
that smell
long ago forgotten
I run through snow-covered fields
jumping to touch your smile
that floats just out of reach
that smile
long ago forgotten
we dance in rooms of endless halls
and whisper love's mystic words
that gently echo into forever
those words
long ago forgotten
we fold into each other
turned liquid by the thousand candles
that surround us
we touch that realm made possible
only by our love
a realm
long ago forgotten
in my waking world

In shallow pools of reflected thought
a child's face
sad and transparent
floats above a wheatfield
thick in bright yellow
amidst a flock of still crow

a shadow dressed in tattered pants
and a paint-stained shirt
brings a smile of recognition
to this lost child
then fades with a sudden gust of wind
the crow take flight
the wheat bend and sway into consciousness
our hearts are numb with the beauty of his pain

lost in the hum of indifference
is the whimper of fading love
held captive and suppressed in false contentment
is the cry of a beaten soul
shackled by the devouring wind of illusion
this wounded heart beats
yet bleeds
of insignificance

Winter wind makes it's way down this Virginia mountainside
creating the hum of bending trees
dogs bark at moving deer
light slowly leaves
as it nears closing time at this country store
wood burning stoves are stoked
and the small mountain town of Pine Grove
settles in for a cold night

One last visitor arrives
his quiet stride moves with the wind
I'm greeted with that childish grin
that never leaves the Birdman
he is James Dean cool
John Wayne tough
and Jimmy Stewart kind
his visits are like a good bottle of wine
always ending too soon

He winks and says; 'Goodnight brother'
then walks into the darkness
the Birdman left us this night
riding the wind to the kingdom he knew awaited him

It is not the secrets that we should fear
but rather, that which is known

The savage cold
the howling wind and blinding snow
the unforgiving heart of Mother Russia's Winter
this is what we endure
lest we shall never be called the best

Today we have drifted slightly off course
and must pitch our tent on this mountain side
so as not to surrender valuable distance
in the tent we warm ourselves
with our bodies and small heater
we tell stories of our childhood, our families
and our sweethearts
these are the moments most cherished
moments that we take home with us
that remain forever

Just as the swirling winds are about to send us to dream,
flashes of light, the scream of some unholy machine
and the shadows of terror thrash about like demons from our worst nightmares
someone grabs the ax and begins to rip the tent
from the inside out and we run for our lives
barefoot and frightened beyond all comprehension,
beyond all logic
we run as fast we can into bitter cold and biting wind

Four were ravaged while the others were separated
and they watched us until we froze,
too panic stricken to move toward the tent where warmth awaited
perhaps the thought of an even more unbearable death
kept us there
where we were found

this is our story
known as Dyatlov Pass,
named after our leader
and harboring nine souls
who never crossed
the mountain of the dead
February 2nd, 1959

It is not the secrets that we should fear
but rather, that which is known

curious child
peering from the bedroom door
half open
standing in the shadows
i watched him
he sat in his easy chair
right elbow propped
cigarette placed between index and *******
light from the tv flickering off the walls
smoke snaking its way to the ceiling

my Father
in his sixties then
lost in the vapid juvenility of Hee Haw
my Father
whose poetry i had discovered
tucked away
out of sight
out of mind
this little black book where he kept his soul
waiting
if he ever decided to find himself again
or perhaps to just remind himself

in the early stages of alzheimers
i saw him cry for the first time
wondering aloud
why after struggling for so many years
he was rewarded with a failing mind
and the loss of a friend
a friend left behind in a black book
a friend i never knew

we are but dreamers
you and I
we search for love
yet turn an eye
away from lovers
kind of heart
it is our fear
to play the part
our souls burn bright
yet we are cold
the more we love
the less our hold
on those equipped
to share our tears
yet bring to life
our deepest fears

find me while you sleep tonight
imagine one who sees your light
believe it true
you'll know I'm there
bring me to the dream we share

voice calls gently in the night
dreams awaken lucid flight
gazing from Orion's shore
Angels open Heaven's door
shadows cross the face of Mars
lovers count the falling stars
Sun evokes a gentle breath
to mark another twilight's death
awaken dreamer to morning's light
dreams rest silent til birth of night

Dreary eyed old man dreams of days past
his youth
he looks with a distant sadness through the window
perhaps to a spot where he once played as a child
a spot now made of concrete and steel
perhaps to a tree no longer there
under which he first kissed his lady
his only lady
who left him suddenly so many years ago
perhaps to a field now littered with progress
a field he worked for thirty years
he can almost taste the sweat on his lips
'Oh, to be young again' he thought

'Here's your change, Pops!'
said the purple haired, nose ring clad cashier,
unwittingly
'Perhaps not' the old man muttered to himself
as he shuffled into the Sunlight

Some say I reflect only shadows
only darkness
only fear
am I to be negated for this
perhaps
accurate observation?
did Poe write of whimsical romps
through flower gardens?
did VanGogh paint in colors of glee?

balance
the dusk
the dawn
the unwitting pawn
the king who holds court
the peasant who merely survives

view from my pulpit before you judge
stand in my shadow before you declare
that I am without light

you wear that cape of innocence so well
smiling, blinking, glancing
deception wreaks from you
draw them in
like a spider flashing diamond eyes
upon its back
only to turn and bite
when they are near
but I am not fooled
your web cannot reach here
your eyes turn cold when you look my way
for you know
that I see beyond those eyes
beyond the reach of your victims
you have given of yourself to me
and my soul remains undamaged
bitter loss my sweet
weave your web from my view
for I am unmoved
I add nothing to your insatiable demand
for power

the thought of death is an uneasy thought
in my case it's a ****** nightmare

on the 16th day of May, 1967, Mr Youngblood took his 6th grade class to the playground as he always does, every Tuesday after lunch. The kids spread out to their usual positions. Some played catch with Mr Youngblood. A few, like Roger and me went to the basketball net and several played on the monkey bars, both of which were part of the big asphalt square. Just opposite this area was the soccer field and then some good distance between that and the Middle School. Lots of open space for a bunch of suburban kids to have fun. The Sun was bright and the wind was light and the temperature was right around perfect. We had been playing for 10 minutes or so when the wind picked up and clouds seemed to move in out of nowhere. We all thought it must be a storm coming...and it was. A distant laugh froze everyone. At first no-one saw him, but then we all saw him at once. He was walking across the soccer field towards us, long deliberate strides. Where he came from is a mystery as there was nothing but open land behind him for several hundred yards. He was tall and lanky and as he approached us, I noticed that his face was contorted and discolored...a pale, almost painted white and he had jet black hair combed back, long and greasy. His lips were thin and black and his eyes bloodshot and almond shaped. He wore a black suit, a black shirt and candy apple red tie. He looked like a mosh-up of Curry's Pennywise and Ledger's Joker, only I would have traded for either one of those ******* right now over this guy, ten to one. He came to the edge of the concrete square. Johnny ****** his pants and Charlene fell from the monkey bars, landing on her left side and causing a compound fracture, her radius protruding from her skin leaving her hand dangling like a dead fish. She did not scream either because she was scared it might draw his attention or she was going into shock...or maybe both. He took two more steps forward and then began laughing as if he'd just heard the funniest joke he'd ever been told. His teeth looked as if they'd been replaced with shark's teeth. I swear there were rows of them and his mouth stretched inhumanly wide. His laugh slowly winded down to a snarl, and he gave a long look to each one of us, as if he was burning the faces to memory. And then he spoke..."You children just go on having lots of fun! Well, except for you Johnny...didn't your Mom just rip you a new *** for ******* your pants at Grandma's? shame, shame!" And Johnny was off...tripping twice before he got his feet under him. "You run home and ...Ha Ha Ha...oh my...change your pants, you pathetic little ****!" Mr Youngblood picked up Charlene and started to carry her inside. By this time her pretty pink dress was soaked in blood. The freak addressed him. "Nice man...but you can't save them. In a few days they will all be mine." He laughed again and every kid ran for their lives back to the school. I was the only one who stayed. To this day I'm not sure why. He turned and walked towards me slowly. "What have we here? The little man isn't running with the others. Are you not afraid Billy boy? Afraid for your life?"...and he leaned in close...close enough that I smelled a foulness that cannot be described. "Because that is what I'm here for...your life!" "Who are you, I asked" and with that his dark black and pointed eyebrows raised and he straightened up. "Who am I...Who am I? My, my the boy has a backbone. The nerve to question while others lose control of their bladders. Well, I'll tell you who I am, child. I am God's worst nightmare. I am every ***** little secret thought you've ever had. I am evil in all it's forms wrapped up in one little package and sent to collect the souls of the innocent. All of you here today will be mine tomorrow. Roger will fall down the stairs off of his front porch and break his neck. Charlene will die from infection due to that nasty little accident and Becky will be hit by the school bus Thursday morning. That will be most nasty! Almost a decapitation. I won't bore you with the rest, but they will all die. Hmmm...you know what Billy... I like you, so I'm thinking, perhaps...yes, I'm going to make a special offer to my new special friend. I won't take your soul until you die from natural causes. What do you think of that idea? At that moment, when your family is gathered round your bedside after suffering that...well, maybe you don't want to know the details... you will see a bright light...but you won't be going towards the light Billy...at that moment I will place my hand on your shoulder and that light will slowly fade into darkness and we will meet again, and you will become my apprentice. So, what do you think of that, Billy? Do you want to be my apprentice, or do I **** you now? Come, come...I haven't much time!" I tried to answer, but my mouth was as dry as cardboard and I could only manage a weak gasp. That laugh again and he turned and walked away in the same direction..."I'll take that as a yes. Remember, you are mine upon your death, Billy boy!" The wind died and the Sun appeared again.
By the end of the week, every child on the playground that day had died...exactly as he stated they would.

And now you know why, even in my darkest days, I never, ever contemplate suicide.

I have fallen to one knee
as I turn to see your shadow,
just in time to prepare for the second blow
in these final seconds before,
the state between death and the dying thought
one's life does play out
in a wave of weaving shadows
on a pillow of blinding white light
my last conscious thought
of your eyes,
the day you looked at me from across the room,
from across the universe
in death one can hear,
for you repeat as you look upon my bloodied body;
"cheater! cheater!"
I can only summize you refer to the lipstick on my collar
put there by your mother
who I happened upon at the grocery store
while picking up your favorite yogurt
you always were the jealous and suspicious one,
but I love you just the same

the rain beats endlessly
upon the ears
it snakes it's way inside this house
wrapping itself around the grief
and drenches us with sadness
the Sun resides in a far off place
where smiles await
where joy finds refuge
in time
the storm will remain here
will darken these rooms
and blur the days ahead
what light finds it's way
will only serve to cast shadows
i will understand her grief
i will wait beside her for the cloud to unwrap itself
for she is her father's daughter
and i know so well
this storm

As the Winter storm approaches
to cover my world in white
a blanket pure as fresh picked cotton
endless in my sight

I shall sit outside my mountain home
and watch it all unfold
a foot or more would warm my heart
if this old man's truth be told

See and hear the softest noise
in each flake's slow descent
a beautiful word
a symphony heard
inspiring event

I will close my eyes in prayer
as the final flakes are falling
and will be at rest
when the white is gone
for this day
is my calling

Through the walls of narrow minds
walk the paths they guide
within these walls
the sparrow finds
a nest to feed it's pride
burdens drag as dusk descends
sleep may hold the key
for in the dark
the bravest bend
the weak a chance to see
follow that which follows you
pull the deepest root
dilemma soon must leave the nest
to bear forbidden fruit

I find myself in a colder place
growing older, not wiser it seems
the light has subsided from my face
fixed in the stare of old dreams
a simple life I once desired
a partner and children to love
a haven from those who relent
who are mired
in the madness a few rise above
I grow slowly and silently into this place
of solitude and fear
that I am drifting too calmly
that I am hiding too well
for another to find me here