am i worthy of such a love
this simple man, this fool
whose darkness shines in dead of day
the night is where i dwell
only howls in the distance
and the silent call of the lost
spark my soul to move

am i worthy of such a love
whose light burns like a thousand Suns
illuminating the same darkness i call home

there is beauty in this world
beyond the desolate thoughts
beyond the pitch black that i see
beyond the colorless landscape where i dream
She resides there
this endless field of light and hope
this world i long to touch
am i worthy

Spoiled centerpiece at table's edge
red apples turned a dull brown
grapes withered and wrinkled
like the hand that lay motionless
sprinkled with drywall dust
tv screams in neutral static
the only surviving kitten suckles it's lifeless mother's ****** in vain
the burning corn fields crackle and snap
the skies turn a smokey haze
before the Sun disappears on schedule
somewhere along the road
Grandpop and Joe are in the truck
with melted ice cream
they were bringing back from town

In the fragile hands of my little girl
who knows not the agony of my years
nor realizes the joy she provides
the balance her innocence brings
she holds a picture
framed in red oak
figures in black and white
posing beneath a gray tree
which no longer provides shade
on a hill no longer there
she talks to them in almost silent whispers
those who were gone before knowing her first breath
those I miss so desperately
she sets the picture back in it's place
and for a moment looks achingly sad
'tell me about them Daddy'
she says

I am very tired
yet I have much work to do
I have yet to write of the child in me
that kept you close and made you smile
I have yet to write of the terror in me
that held life and death on a precariously short leash
I have yet to write of my love for you
though draining and awkward
was the love meant for this soul

Take me to where the light follows the waves to my feet
as she settles
behind the horizon
and I will write my final words
in the hours that remain
in the moments I have saved
in the grace of the setting Sun

I remember a line from a movie long ago;
'There's a hole in my heart that cannot be filled'

It was five years ago I had first heard of him.
'Hayden sat next to me at lunch, Daddy,' she would sigh,
and we would tease her,
her older brother, sister and I.
'Well, you need to talk to him, tell him that you like him'
'I can't do that, the kids would make fun of me. Besides, I'm only six!'
From kindergarten through 4th grade,
this modern day Tom Sawyer had captured my little girl's heart.

We sat in the back of the church,
Hayden's Father is saying goodbye to his son.
She rests her head on my shoulder,
her strength deeper than my own.
I came to know him this day,
this beautiful child who brought a light to my own.
His huge, brown eyes reflecting love of youth
and the joy that resides in innocence.
Those moments so pure,
her thoughts of Hayden will no longer grace our lives.
How wonderful they were.
There's a hole in my heart that cannot be filled,
and the light of childhood has been dimmed.
The balance of joy and pain has come much too soon
to one so young, my little girl.

Hold fast the crescent moon
stay the edge til the orb be full
time and spirit will arch your view
crack the void with specks of light
breathe deep in a pause of hope
step away from a second lost
freeze the spiral pattern laid
blank the screen of thought
succumb not to the tide that pounds
your bleeding heart like a thousand drums
deny the ocean another soul
turn
and feel the Sun

she walks at the edge of my sanity
and knows she can cross the line
where reason becomes a distant thought process
where anger engages fear
and control is hers
where the power she feels
excuses her brief, uncontrolled period
of love

and in the final hour of destiny's call
she turned and ran like a scared child
I watched her golden hair
bounce and fall about her face
her eyes, her beauty intact
she looked back before turning a corner of pure light
that blazed me blind
only the negative image remained
for a few sweet moments
then burned away
into eyes that were raining
behind the deafening silence of the Sun

I will find
in the remnants of a lost love's thought
some semblance of warmth
some piece of a dream past
some hope that it may rise again
from the embers
of a once blazing heart

In silent, moving pictures
brilliant flashes of horrific red
shrugs of shoulders when told to stay
turning of heads toward the grassy knoll

in silent, moving pictures
it screams to us
'A ****** hidden in the wood'
vision from the past of this fallen Hero
yet missed this day
and taken away
all but one

the vast universe is within our grasp
galaxies crystal clear, though light years away
yet what is viewed in front of us
we cannot decipher

in silent, moving pictures
the killer is killed
no words are revealed or ever written
those who spoke, forever hushed

in silent, moving pictures
it screams to us
but the screams become faint
and what is known by few
will pass to no-one

Ghosts of bitter sorrow reign
within my somber, dark domain
tears of Angels streak my walls
cast aside, they walk these halls

voices echo in the night
whispers of their lonely plight
lost souls searching, drawn to me
window to the living sea

I am haven for their grief
once the king of disbelief
hidden here like tears in rain
they find solace in my pain

the grass has covered your stone
such a sad thing to be hidden
though just a name
it has rained for several days
and the nights stay warm
others are here
and they too mourn
silently
on bent knee
to tend to theirs

I want to tell them about you
I want them to see your name
once again unveiled
such a sad thing to be hidden
one as beautiful as you
quiet heart
in a loud world

the Sun now hides
as dark clouds open
tears and drops of rain
fall as one
the wind stirs
and I see you in my thoughts
you are not forgotten

Memories of a life are blurred
dreams entrusted
now only dreams
thoughts turn into hollow words
endless seas
now shallow streams

Share with me your life content
so I may know that sacred place
where those whose futile life is spent
not stumbling through an empty space

I once knew a time when golden light shone
where two in love could make a stand
against the world we stood like stone
unfazed, unbeaten
an imagined land

Then time unseen
like a stalking beast
hid in shadows
silent
still
dimmed the golden light of love
pictures scattered
of a life to fill

I was feeling pretty good after a few ***** tonics,
to the point where I felt comfortable enough to converse
with this vaguely familiar, lovely lady sitting next to me at the bar.
I leaned over and quite brazenly asked;
" Do you like ghost stories?"
" I happen to love ghost stories" she replied.
I began by telling her about the ghost that tried to suffocate me
by burying my face in a pillow at exactly 3 am
the night after I saw my name appear in large black letters
on the television screen while watching a movie.
She ordered a double and asked me to continue.
I told her about the lady I work with who advised me to answer the phone
because it might be my Mother, knowing all the while that my Mother
was deceased.
Well, the lady on the phone just happened to have the same last name
as my Mother's maiden name; Joy. Not Smith or Jones...Joy.
Her husband's name was Edwin which just happened to be my Dad's name.
Then I told her about the time my sisters and I were visiting the grave site of my parents.
We were in the wrong area and searching when I stumbled across a section of headstones with the family last name but no relation as far as we could tell.
There she lay....Mary E. Owens...deceased 1951, the same year and day my sister; Mary E. Owens was born.
I must say she was a bit startled when she came over to have a look.
"Shall I continue?" I asked.
Without hesitation the pretty lady replied; "By all means, continue."
"Okay, this is the kicker. I attended a VanGogh exhibit a few years ago.
I was compelled it seems by unknown forces to his work,
but had never viewed it in person.
On the day of the final viewing I knew I had to go.
I was sick with fever from an active kidney stone
but decided to take the trip downtown by subway.
When I arrived there was a very long line. Tickets were free, but limited.
A man approached me trying to scalp tickets he had obtained.
I declined, placing my faith in destiny.
I got my ticket as did 3 or 4 people behind me and that was it.
Hundreds were turned away.
The viewing of VanGogh's work was a moving experience.
I was exhausted by the end and my fever had risen.
It was all I could do to remain standing.
While I viewed the final piece of the exhibit; 'Wheatfields Under Threatening skies',
someone spoke to me from just behind my right shoulder.
" I want to thank you for coming my good man. It means a great deal to me."
I turned to answer, but before I could reply I was stunned to see that the likeness
between this man and VanGogh himself was astounding.
I turned to look at a self portrait on a wall nearby and back to the gentleman again but he was gone.
Hallucination due to my fever...perhaps, but I'll never believe that.
"That is quite the story and you are quite the storyteller.
Now it is my turn to tell you a story before I go.
Do you see that lady in the mirror next to you?
The one captivated by your lust for life?
Look real hard, then slowly close your eyes and slowly open them again."
When I did, she was gone, but in a brief instant it was as if the entire room went quiet
and I heard a whisper that echoed as if it were inside a church,
"I loved posing for you, Vincent."

Author's note: This is a 'Ghost Story' I wrote which is a bit unusual in that it contains actual events wrapped in a ficticiuos setting (the bar). I wrote an article for the on-line publication; 'Wordcatalystmagazine' detailing my run-in with the ghost at 3 am. It's called 'Ghost Story' and it's in the Dec.2007 issue.

Dare I enter this darkness once again
listen to whispers of the dead
taste the tears that drip unknown
into hell's rage
**** this blight
this cancer of the human soul
to which I return unconsciously
unwittingly
pathetically unflinching
what evil did I inflict in a past life
that has sentenced me to this eternal nightmare
what spirit invades my thoughts
and pulls me deep
into this place of damnation,
my soul captivated by the fires of Ork
my heart blinded to the wonders of light

I watch through a sliding glass door
she sits in her wicker chair
in the yard
with clouds unrelenting
there's a chill pushed by a strong breeze
yet she reads
I had hoped against odds
to find her here
inside
a smile waiting before I leave
a kiss to linger in the hours apart

our lives
our love
slip silent into these empty moments
of realization
fade deeper and closer
to a time when I will stare
into an empty yard

In the finer lines of my Mother's eyes
where backroads lead to secret tears
much is spoken when one explores
the map that etches those many years

expressed in smiles and subtle stares
when the world is harsh and cruel
calm washes through your tested soul
that stings of ridicule

in the finer lines of my Mother's eyes
life's riches are retained
and the wells that feed her loving child
through those eyes are sustained

and should this night find you alone
staring into the abyss
shivering in the chill of hopelessness
fire the candle
dip the quill
and speak to me
for i await your solitary tear
your desperate moment
giving rise to the beauty that cries
deep within the soul
of the poet

and in this gaping hole that once harbored
the love of ages
my shadow casts itself upon a barren wall
my thoughts fall to the corner
and mix with dust
for there is no place
there is no-one
there is only the sound of an empty room

the falling Sun changes only the shadow
from short to long
and to disappear

I could not weather these aching thoughts of you
haunting pictures
were it not for the presence
of the quieting wind
I dare not enter these caverns of memory
almost touching
were it not for the calmness
of the quieting wind
I would sleep for a thousand years
dreams awaiting
were it not for the awakening
of the quieting wind
and here I lay
on this windswept hill
you drop a rose
and I watch you go
the quieting wind
carries your voice back to me
as once again you say goodbye

a whispered cry
a strained goodbye
vision from a crooked eye
once pure as Sunset
on mountains high
no longer seeks
the moonlit sky
a love now bleached
in wistful sighs
and unsure whys
the foggy mist
of my decline

I'm all out of dreams
they are the same reruns night after night
like some lame cosmic cable channel
Lucy stuffing her mouth with chocolates
Barney fumbling to put his one bullet in the gun
my tubes and transistors have reached their max
I guess the creative juices have only so many years
of bouncing around in your dna
until one day they meet again at the end of the strand
then your ability to decipher turns to mush
Katy Perry songs start sounding good
and politicians make sense
I spend 15 minutes choosing toilet paper at Walmart
so get a final glimpse of the poet that once was
before he begins crying at Hallmark cards

In my passing
what will they say
as they gather round the death display
will they shed a tear
for this pallid face
or feign a moment of silent grace
the final glances
the final sighs
the final light on sleeping eyes
the coffin closed
the voices fade
I watch them walk from Sun to shade
back to their homes
back to their lives
where perhaps a piece of me survives

There's a poem in my head unwritten
a phrase that lurks just out of sight
a snow covered field that hides a kitten
afraid to cry
its fur of white

there's a sadness in my soul uncertain
of which direction it should take
a play without a stage, the curtain
drawn and black as the deepest lake

there's a landscape in my mind untold
where thought is new as each setting Sun
where dreams are washed in light of gold
and words like children run

I followed you home from school yesterday
and I watched through the window as you played in front of Mommy's big mirror
so close to being a woman
but still as innocent as a child
I had to **** the family across the street so that I could use their house for a while
I promise you that they didn't suffer
they never saw me coming
such nice people
see what you made me do!
You'll hear about it on the news in a few days
that was me
my name is...
maybe I shouldn't tell you that right now
because when you get older
we will meet
and you will fall in love with me and my money
and we will live in our own Paradise
that is, until you do something to displease me
just like all the others
then I will have to **** you
just like all the others
Goodnight my Princess
I see you sleeping
so pure you are
sweet dreams

there you are
hiding just outside the glow of the streetlamp
in the alley, waiting patiently

who were you Jack?
you maniac
when did your mind turn?
what twisted event led you here?
keep it under control Jack
I know, she's coming
I hear her footsteps too

was it in your childhood Jack?
did something happen...
beatings in the dark?
were those nightmares real?

why not give that blade to me and walk away...
please Jack...
Jack?
I know...you must
it is what you are...
addiction is a terrible thing

are you ready Jack?
I hear your heart pounding
now make pleasant conversation,
slowly raise the blade as she eats the cherries
very good Jack
now watch as the life slowly leaves her stark, staring eyes
wait for the breathing to cease...
there...now you can go to work
you've left your mark once more
and you are fixed again

who were you Jack?
you maniac

I entrust my dreams to a silent hope
that they will someday find their place
in this, a past or future life
same smile on different face

I entrust my thoughts to travel time
to land where there is need
a sense of calm
a flash of joy
where nothing grows
a seed

I entrust my love to peer across
the synchronistic chain
to spy it's true immortal mate
hearts join like tears and rain

I entrust my soul to find a home
in this universal plan
lives re-written
searching for
the key to understand

and these snarling teeth
something out of a horror movie memory
from some murky black ooze
clamped tight on my lower half
tearing it away as if I were a sandwich
it pulled back into the bubbling black
grinning as it chewed
one shoe dangling from the corner of it's mouth
rows of razors churning like a great white
it stopped before going completely under
and let me watch it finish
I only wished to die before it's second strike
but it coiled, then sprang
from that endless neck
it's jaws opening as it came closer
through the haze I saw what appeared to be writing above it's eyes
branded into it's thick skin
X X
I then heard above my pounding heartbeat a click
and all was quiet
and the beast halted
mouth agape
close enough to read the word burned in black on it's hideous head
inches from me
E X X O N

I awoke
it was Friday
time to fill up

Forged in rolling seas of dreams
the mystic well resides
dancing thoughts ride torrent streams
where imagination hides

frozen skies and neon clouds
carry words in crystal rain
faces wearing waves like shrouds
swallow wayward ships of pain

home to endless echoes
a twisted, feeble howl
eyes shift under sweating lids
satan's breath wreaks foul

playground to these hollow hearts
of Angels wandering lost
trade your soul for wicked wants
and Heaven be the cost

I walk outside my lucid skin
my waking thoughts return
I feel the sting of evil's tongue
the conscious breath does burn

I walk through silent rooms
that harbor shadows of our past
I wake to whispers in the night
your spirit's form is cast
elusive, though touching every thought
a distant, haunting view
I hide my grief
a shroud I wear
that folds its grip round you
I begin each day a penance paid
pacing my empty cell
awaiting healing of the soul
when light peeks through this hell
like dew returned by morning Sun
I ask you wait for me
to leave these silent rooms we share
our spirits walking free