I watch through sliding glass doors
she sits in the yard
with clouds unrelenting
a chill pushed by a strong breeze
storm foreboding
darkness works its way closer
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
upon an empty yard

I've yet to write of the child in me
that kept you close
and made you smile
I've yet to write of the terror in me
that held life and death
on a precariously short leash
I've 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 in
behind the horizon
and I will write my final words
at dusk
in the hours that remain
in the moments I have saved
in the grace of the setting Sun

slip silent into the mist
a darkness lurks
behind your kiss
your smile now vacant
scaring me
slip silent into the sea

turn slowly out of my hold
your warming skin
has now gone cold
your dreams elusive
floating free
slip silent into the sea

I'm drowning in these unseen waves
the darkness pitch
as pauper's graves
the love that breathed new life in me
slips silent into the sea

can I fall in love with you
from a distance
from an angle
from a smile caught in time
feeling only that which derives
from your voice
your words
your soul that travels these many miles

can I trust the toys
that allow me to know
some of you
filter out what I don't care to see
hiding behind that glow

can I fall in love with you
from a dream
that brings you here to stay
beyond that dreams end

forged in the likeness of you
the whisper meanders in my memory bank
it dances softly on a burgundy velvet glove
that covers my wrinkled hand
it visits me in deepest dreams
and speaks in hushed tones
of the infinite days ahead
when we shall once again dance together

forged in the feeling of you
I live each day like the last
holding onto the past
like a cat with a captured bird
not allowing it to die
waking to the sounds of winter winds
and old favorites on the radio
the ones we listened to together
so many years ago
those years that forged a love so strong
that I rarely blink twice
without the thought of you dancing by

the wind that howls in the deepest night
is a comforting sound
the dog that moans in the earliest light
is a soulmate found
I abhor the thought of wistful bliss
of nervous laughter unprovoked
I slip into my warm abyss
this sea of pain on which I choke
I wade in pools of sought despair
while punks seek out their mothers
I dance on floors of rotted wood
and sing to ghosts of lovers
I find it my salvation
to document this pain
to analyze the demons
and revel in the rain
perhaps one day I'll leave this place
and walk into the Sun
to share the light of happiness
content my deed is done

a honey bee stung me
not because I disturbed the remnants of his hive
or stepped on the flower he sat upon
I watched puzzled as he struggled on the ground
after burying his sword in my arm
thus sacrificing himself
in honor of his brothers and his queen
you see
he was the last
he had no voice to tell me of their fate
the destruction we'd wrought
on this docile creature
this creator of sweet nectar

the sting was brief and I brushed it away
and continued on
as we all do when only temporarily impeded
unaware
the sting about to come

they accumulate
like snowflakes on a limb
and then they are gone
like raindrops on your skin
taken by the Sun
and when the dry spells come
I hold onto them
these memories
perhaps long forgotten
by those who shared in them
and those already silent
they drift downstream and out of site
to return upon my final night
and beginning with the first clear light of youth
all but a whisper
....is life

I drove past the tree
that saved me many times
when I was so young
it reached it's limbs and called me in
and I would wile away the hours
watching the world move below
blind to my hiding place
I held tight as the cruel older kids
walked by
looking for me to belittle and abuse

my friend has withered in the waning years
his bold trunk now dry and hunched
his strong broad reaching arms now drooped
by his side
I'm not sure on which limb I carved my initials
or what side I buried those baseball cards
in a sandwich bag and my Dad's cigar box
he got me through those early years
my sanctuary
my protector
I catch a final glimpse in the rear view
I have to smile as it looks as if his top limb waves to me
but I know it's just the breeze

we were leaving after all these years
the place where I was born
the only walls, alleys and rooftops I have come to know
I counted down the days with sorrow and fear
not sure what to say to my friends
the only friends I've known
like brothers we were

on the last day I wrote a note
and folded it
stuck it in a tight gap under the porch
where the wood had warped
it doesn't matter what it said
just that I was leaving a piece of me here
a piece that may never be found again

...a graveyard of all things
across the street of this house I've rented on the beach
a family plot on the opposite end of an empty 3 or 4 acres
this wasn't in the description
but I find nothing more comforting than a few dozen resting souls
nearby
while I too rest
I awoke the first morning to a sigh and then another
as clear as if she were laying beside me
and later that day...near dusk
I paid a visit where she rest
and returned with the sounds and images of my new friends
the Austins, the Stowes, the Farrows and the Wades
the blackbirds squawked and jumped from tree to tree
they did not approve of my interest
perhaps they are the protectors of these souls
settlers of the Outer Banks

in the waning days of my sojourn
when the Sun will set quicker than I remember
when I'll wish I'd taken advantage of a pain free body
and walked a bit longer in those fields of gold
searched my dreams for meaning
taken a few extra moments to absorb
the laughter of my children when they were mere toddlers
the mindset falls into one of waiting
as we drift off into the natural state of irrelevancy
like the favorite stuffed bear that is still loved
but has served its purpose
watching the world spin by upon a shelf
next to a copy of Tom Sawyer
I'd give all my remaining days
to re-live one of those fading memories

did I hear the sound of a breaking heart
as he finally reached 301
seeing the note taped to the door
just above the peep hole
a long pause
a fumbling of the keys
I knew she had left
I could hear her earlier
sobbing
she'd had enough
she was much younger
and there were years ahead
they had spoken of how this could happen
long ago
rather, he had spoken and she had laughed it off
today she realized he was right
today her glass is half full
and his has emptied

do I hear the sound of silence

For years I had heard stories about the Hawthorne Library,
that it was haunted,
especially the basement  
where the 19th Century books were kept.
For this reason, people tended to stay away
from the ground floor.
I had also heard that they were going to close the Hawthorne soon,
so I decided that my next ghost hunt would take place there.

Two days later, about 30 minutes before closing,
I entered the Hawthorne with my bulky camcorder
tucked neatly in my backpack along with a sandwich and coke.
It was a crisp December night and about an inch of snow had fallen,
leaving the library nearly empty.

I worked my way towards the stairs leading to the basement,
and when certain I wasn't seen,
made my way down the stairs.
I was alone.
It was colder down here as the heat made it's way up
to the higher floors.

At 9 pm, the lights went off as they closed,
and the heat was turned down.
What latch was that she just turned? I must be hearing things.
I heard the front door close and
I was alone,
here in the basement of the Hawthorne building.
The only light I had was the street light that barely made
its way through the ground level's 100 year old window's
thick glass and steel bars.

I settled into a corner and waited for my eyes
to adjust to the darker conditions.
I placed a 90 minute tape in my recorder
as the wind whipped outside
and the snow blowing about
made eerie shadows on the walls.

One story tied to the Hawthorne
was the tale of 8 year old Melissa who had wandered from her mother
to the stairs leading to the basement.
Before she turned back,
the door swung,
hitting her and sending her tumbling down the stairs
to her death.

The Librarian,
who disappeared one day
only to be found the next,
huddled in one corner of the basement,
the victim of an apparent heart attack
at 28 years of age.

There were more stories,
but I blew them off as urban legends,
a little truth surrounded by years of
creative storytelling.

It was getting really cold...
did they turn the heat off completely?
I gulped the remainder of my ham sandwich
and decided to get started.

Before I could turn the recorder on,
I thought I heard a voice,
a whisper really... a small girl.
I finally located the 'on' button,
fighting to keep it steady.
Again I heard the whisper;
'why are you here?' followed by a giggle.

What is your name little girl?
Another giggle from the same direction,
then it circled me.
Never, in all my experiences of conversing with the dead,
had I heard a voice so clear as this.

'Last night' it repeated...
3 or 4 times as she giggled...
'last night, last night, last night'
'what do you mean...last night?'

'Last night for the Library, silly...
didn't you know?'
suddenly, I heard laughter coming from all corners
of the basement
it became louder and louder...
'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!'
a deafening male voice half choking on his laughter...
'But you won't be alone...
'Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha...' a pounding, gurgling laugh...
'No, you won't be alone...Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha........'

They said I died from exposure
when they opened the basement
six months later to begin renovations.
Seems the Hawthorne was going to become
an apartment building.

But I was dead long before my body froze.
They'll discover this fact when they find my camera
on the shelf
right next to
'The Tell Tale Heart'  
...her favorite book!

where does the rainbow end?
where does the Sun touch the sea?
do not look to me for answers
for I am searching as well
I am lost in the questions that have been asked
since the first dawn lit paradise
but I will keep watch
when you decide to sleep
and gather strength
I will hold you close when you shake
in fear of the voices that haunt you
I will be at your side
and you at mine
when we begin our walk
at first light
toward rainbow's end

one knock, 2 knocks, 3 knocks, 4
hurry my love
please answer the door
time is short
it's almost four
and I must **** you one hour before
the Sun shows it's crest on the Eastern shore
you and your lover sleep sound I am sure
I suppose I must fiddle with the door lock before
I wake the neighbors by knocking once more

the light hits your face from the moon through the gape
in the curtains by the deck and the fire escape
your beauty is haunting and the shadow of shape
outlines your body while my blade on the nape
of his neck sinks deep as he drools and he snores,
then awakens in a start...
but the tape

on his mouth muffles the scream
which brings my attention back to you as your dream
turns quickly to one of intimate fright
from a walk in gold hillsides to a terror filled night

your eyes they are diamonds
when is added a tear
and the liquid on black reflect moon, reflect fear
a quiver of sadness for what I must do
you deceived me my love
my love this be true

I don't blame you this treachery
for I am not a great prize
and in time the heart hardens
and you catch other's eyes
no matter my dear, I will avoid such rage
your final breath be the final page
one day you would notice we are not the same pair
for you will grow older while I remain fare

tis' the life of Voivode
I must own all my lovers
I must gather their souls
leave their bones neath the covers
look at me darling
as I drink in your spite
isn't it clever
isn't it right
you will love me forever
and forever the night
will be ours for the taking
and the taking of life
shall sustain us
shall remain
thus

Dracula's realm

will you talk to me here
in the bowels of this long closed library
built before my father's eyes saw light
just after the final soldier passed
in that insidious war

I know you dwell within these walls
the timeless, seamless realm of the afterlife
talk to me now
give me more than a few words
though I can hear in them the longing

spirit that visits me not only in my dreams
but in my waking hours as well
here we are
alone where you need not be afraid
tell me of your life
of your death
of the dreams you had
how can I know you
from this side?

I wish that I could sleep
to wander through my dreams
to sift through thoughts of pure intent
to ride unconscious seams

I wish that I could see
through the mist to the other side
where life's escape awaits us
where spirit will reside

I wish that I could vanquish
the hatred that burns so deep
for those who drive my conscious thoughts
to wishing they could sleep

strangers become comfortable after a time
and the stoic faces of the old
are alive when they are free to tell their stories
this is what I live for
the stories

the orbs that roam the mountainside at night
many years after the crash that took all aboard
the lights that flicker same time every year
on a deceased husband's birthday
the cries of a child calling for her mommy
repeated each night
looped in time
down the halls of this 300 year - old brick house
where her mommy died from a fall

I have known the gentle touch of a kind spirit
and the angry wrath from the darkest of entities

I did not seek these gifts
they were given
and I follow with open mind and soul
for I live in the peace and comfort
of what this awareness provides
that there is more
much more
beyond this final breath

Come closer to my bedside children
for the final hour draws near
I have longed for this adventure
there is no time for fear

I have run my course
  quite a run it was
I have worn my welcome here
so bid me farewell and smile for me
let's not shed a tear

I've loved and lost
I've battled rough seas
my soul forever true
and if nothing else
I've been paid in full
with a gift
the 3 of you

so I'll leave you now
with this final word
before my thoughts digress
I'm not dying, my children
I'm just moving
to no particular address

something brushes my cheek as I sleep
tiny footsteps perhaps
and I awake in the vaguely lit room
somewhat startled
for this is the second time in two nights
but on this night I do not simply turn over
the dreams, these nightmares of sorts
are beginning to extend
well past the moment of being awake

now propped on one arm
I focus my eyes and sweep
first across my pillow
slowly to the edge
of the mattress
which is inches from the floor
I see it
not scampering
but walking away at a normal gate
this bright neon red spider  
large and life like
moving away towards the corner

wait!
I'm fully awake and I'm seeing this,
the thought occurred
my every nerve twitching in icewater
it's legs cartoonishly long and thin
I watched in stark silence
as it bent low and weaved its way through the space between my slippers
then behind a box of videos
I sat in disbelief
again asking myself if I were awake
but I knew
there was no need to slap myself this time

I slowly leaned towards the box and pulled it quickly
towards me
it was gone
and I was still awake
still in some place between disbelief and shock

how does one escape their nightmares
when they cross from dream to reality

he grapples with that memory
fighting to hold every detail, every shade
as the pain from his arthritic bones diverts his thoughts even more

oh...the curse of age
he took for granted every sweet morsel
every sweet moment of time given
and this is life's retribution

if given another chance
would he let her walk away
for he knows, looking back
that she was the one
that almost imperceptible,
yet obvious look when one's heart is broken
this he remembers clearly
her eyes as he turned away
relinquishing his chance at love
if he only knew then
that the excuses he trusted
were merely the voices of uncertainty

and now
in his room of fading memories
and fictional dreams
he begs for another chance
in another life

I walk alone this August morning
as the heat begins its climb
and the ocean wind
is cooling in its soft touch

manta ray jumps and flips
and splashes
bragging to me its freedom

I walk alone
this endless beach
til the sweat drips and
the skin burns
and the storms roll
in distant chaos

there was a time when I would have considered
turning back
but those days have long since vanished
into the curve
that separates the climb
from the descent

I shall not plunder
her delicate thunder
my love's true wonder
this magnificent dream

I am brought to tears
her unspoken fears
my lover's lost years
we embrace the seam

I am whole in her sorrow
we are one til tomorrow
in her eyes I will borrow
the strength not to scream

while our love swims in sadness
the world drowns in madness
we bask in the solace
of our shade

such a thin line separates us
the living from the dead
the spirit that is free
from that which is bound
I have felt your gentle touch
and heard your whispered plea
I sense your presence
across the open seas of time
are you my love from a distant past
a kinder world
a quiet life?
I have come to believe that you wait for me
there
just across the line
just beyond the fray
where spirits dwell

if given the chance to relive my days  
would I sacrifice to choose that which I left sighing in the Sun
I do not truly know if the love I chose to abandon
would have survived the years
would have burned through the days of darkness
our mornings wrapped in warmth
I shall never know
and I shall never see again
the vision of you etching your soul
on canvas
silently opening your heart to me
a moment in time beneath the Sun

fifty years have come and gone
since that fateful November day
when men of greed and fear of peace
took the chance away

removed all hope of paradise
a world serene and free of hate
divided not by war, but sea
where love directs our fate

we run and hide from truth we fear
denial is the easier pill
we laugh at those who held the truth
whose innocent blood did spill

should the Sun soon set
on our Camelot lost
when evil conquers good
they will find no mention in our history books
of the ****** in the wood

who talks to me while I sleep
in whispers and sighs that only a lover knows
warmth of touch I cannot move
floating in colors of lucid dream
I awaken to hear the words and feel the warmth
fade into the wooden floors

my conscious soul abducted
I live another life in fleeting years
the line becomes closer
my thoughts remain clear
what is dream
and what is not
where does time not exist

the waves brush steadily along the beach
while gulls glide just inches above
the Sun still hot this September morning
but I have departed and can only feel the warmth of these seven days behind me
the imprints where I walked now windswept and smooth
the road becomes shorter to home
more distant from this place I so dearly love
a piece of me stays each time I leave
these beautiful shores
these quiet days
these Outer Banks

In the silent cold of the desert night
cacti share a lonely trance
they stretch their stubby, prickly arms
the glow incites this awkward dance

they rest their ship on a vacant dune
shield their eyes from brilliant glare
the light that burns from distant moon
is more than they can bear

they have come to plant their rabid seed
that will race across the desert plane
to hunt the sleepers on which they feed
the seed now sewn, they await the rain

can i write when i'm not urged
by sentiment or pain
immersed in joy or drunk with grief
there's no relief to gain

can i sing when i'm not passioned
when words seem all the same
no crying fans to motivate me
no burning love, no flame

can i hope if there's no dream
no field of gold with neon rain
where children smile
where lassies cry
from sentiment or pain

they no longer run from me
my spirit friends
they stay when I approach
they seem curious
gliding to and fro
their orbs moving about like bright moths
playing tag
and then there's the one
who stood by the bottom stair and watched me
  
she ran last time
up to her room like a scared child
but this time she observed
this time she shows no fear

her life was taken
her tears have lingered
unseen
her cries have gone
unheard
echoing through three centuries
of grief
here in the bows of Foxcroft
here in the ageless comfort of her home
where I have found her

belittled into submission
lost in darkness
the basement of my thoughts
a busted knuckle trying to heal
forgotten tears stolen by sand
along the beach of lost dreams
and unwatched sunsets
did you forget about me

sad cliches meet here
outside the realm of hope
waiting like wolves  
to take their breath away

i'm sorry for the things i've said
i'm sorry for the words that bled
unrelenting
from your severed heart
it is a curse that i must bear
i speak without a whim or care
i think not of my love's despair
only that it will survive
for it is love

like claws they work to rip and tear
until your love
succumbs
and there
you awaken
and I can only say...
I'm sorry

will you love me when I'm dead
when all the words are put to bed
when all the painful thoughts are shed
and you can live in bliss

will you love me when I'm dead
when shadows let you sleep instead
when ghosts no longer make you dread
my malignant goodnight kiss

will you love me when I'm dead
when I cannot feed your hungry head
when all your thoughts will be spoon fed
I'll await your soul in the abyss

bitter heart infects my blood
again tonight
yet leeches continue to drink
leaving only enough to survive
so that they may replenish their thirst
tomorrow
what have i sacrificed of my humanity
this day
smiling past the truth
discarding the words i wanted to say
the thoughts that first come to mind
what deviants we have become
actors in a childish play
it is only in truth that i
find my way under the light of buried stars
allowing me this charade
it is only in truth that i see when you welcome me
beaten and lost
shallow and used
those eyes
my harbor

the darkness
always lingering on the edge
around the next stroke of midnight
in the breath catching laughter
or the smile of living
somewhere deep and not quite hidden
I am fooled again
and pulled again
as this unforseen weight takes hold
the reasons unclear
it stains my thoughts like mold on cheese
the darkness is always there
always returning
eventually

At the end of the corridor
the ceiling light had burned out
one of 6 on this floor
this made the last 10 feet extremely dark
until ones' eyes adjusted
and when the remaining light
slowly allowed her to see shapes
she noticed the still shadow
she wanted to use the stairwell at this end
as the elevator had been jumpy
and in her mind,
unsafe
she paused and considered what could make this shadow
other than her silly imagination
and as she continued to focus
the shadow became clear,
distinct
it was that of a man
tall and broad
and as she watched
he turned, ever so slightly
and began to move towards her
no window, no furniture nearby to cause this oddity
her inclination to find explanation
quickly dissolved
and fear was now the emotion that guided her
that led her to the elevator without a thought to look back
'OUT OF ORDER'
the sign screamed in large red letters
now she had to look
and there he was
in the lighted area now
the shadow standing out like black on white
and he was looking at her
no eyes, no face
but she knew he was looking at her
she ran to the other end of the 8th floor corridor
damning her insomnia along the way
opened the stairwell door and glanced ever so quickly
he was within 5 feet of the door
her scream echoed up to the 12th and down to the 1st floor lobby
loud enough for the single front desk agent to hear
followed by the sound of her body thud against the 1st floor stairwell concrete
first bouncing off several of the metal handrails on its way down
"Obvious suicide" said the first investigator on the scene to the hotel manager
"No signs of a struggle"
"But why would such a beautiful young lady like this want to take her own life?"
the manager queried
"That is not for you nor I to understand, my friend.
Only the shadows know"

when I lay beside my lover
the world below us runs for cover
the wretched cannot touch us here

faces turn in stark dismay
blood runs cold
their thoughts are gray
vacant eyes are dull with fear

they sense the light
that soon will burn
will rid our haven
of those who spurn
a world of love is drawing near
the wretched cannot touch us here

We shall build a fire
you and I
it will burn on love
illuminate the sky
when our hearts are one
we shall be set free
as the morning Sun
reveals the sea
the light of love
needs fuel to burn
most turn to embers
before Sun's return

in the glow of morning's light
I find our love still burns as bright
ignited are we
this night's endeavor
the fuel we've found
shall burn forever

when the night quiets
I await my journey
moth wings against my window
delay the return
of my lucid dream
now paused upon the lip
of consciousness
light wind creates that comforting brush
of leaf and limb
and time
because the release of all things relative
stands still
we meet
first in colors
then in movement
all the lives
all the dreams I have lived
are here
encased in the majestic realm
of the dreamer