Beyond these unyielding doubts
cast upon me like rust-splintered chains
haunting my every thought
my every breath
there is reason
for my existence
the strength of which carries me beyond the fog
from which these chains are cast

there is purpose in my struggle
a light that burns unrelenting
searching the summits
riding the storms to their end
darkness be ******
the rain and wind of change
only serve to make me stronger
more determined
to write these thoughts
that lay in waiting
for those willing

I remain a poet
in this age of the dying word

when the dream ends
and you awaken
to all the lies that were mistaken
for all the truths
that left you shaken
alone again
and no-one knows

when the light dims
on this special dream
all your hope like a silent scream
is torn from you
unheard unseen
while spirits fail to move

waves of silence
rule the night
drain the world
of lover's light
bitter souls dance of spite
stolen
are the hearts below

in the endless possibility of dream
we talk in the calmest of whispers
ever so close
I am burning within these shadows
brushing against her
echoed laughter
the smell of her hair
and the electricity of her skin
exceeds consciousness
the beauty of the dream is in it's clarity
of that which is born from the energy
of two

You've reached your pinnacle, Roy
here in the rain
your tears lost
the prodigal son
will leave his maker
and meet no-one in the after
Rebel in your time
replicated emotion
but emotion just the same
perhaps the most human application
was one unintended
that thought is pure
in death

looking back through time shaved eyes
I am blessed by these corridors of memory
otherwise hollow
should you not be present
epic torture of a miniscule life
only room for so many kings
return to me on the power of thought
fleeting though it was
it was
I lose myself in the open valley
and rolling hills
on this daybreak drive
and I am there
with you in those precious days
when our love burned
through the boundaries
of time

Gray ash fell to scorched landscape
like dying moths
only scattered shells remain
of once noble statues
monuments of steel
fragmented against a burning sky
the face of apocalypse
grimaced an unwavering defiance
wings of angels
sent burning air snaking, swirling
as they descended
collecting the souls worthy of salvation
worthy of another life
in another time

He would walk to Bears Den when the weather allowed
when his old bones felt as if they could take the steep mountain road
he would sit upon the rock that faced West
towards Winchester
and here he would search for inspiration
despite the pain in his shoulder and knees
he could block that out long enough
to find a few words
the poet of Pine Grove
they would see him on occasion
mention to the country store clerk that
the old man with the pad of paper
was heading up the mountain again
no-one knew who he was exactly
or where he came from
they just knew he was no kin to the local folk
one Winter's day a few kids made their way to Bears Den
to throw stones off the edge
they found the old man
laying sideways on the rock
clutching a pencil
and on the pad
they read the first few lines of a poem;
'Here I can see forever
here I am above the fray'
He was buried in the little cemetery
near Unison
where the Birdman and Wiley rest
it is quiet there
the breeze is constant and the view is open
it is a good place for an old poet's soul
to contemplate his art

Warning: I rarely drop f bombs in my poetry...but this is most definitely an exception. Please see link in notes. Thank you!


I was thinking on the way home from work in my car that has no air conditioning because as we all know, air conditioners in cars rarely last past 100,000 miles and make a great excuse for getting a new car. That’s why car manufacturers put ******* ac’s in cars. That's why car manufacturers don't like any new ideas like something other than that **** we've been running on for 100 ******* years. Ever wonder how we can make an electric car for the moon in the 60's, but for the most part we're still running on Exxon 50 years later?! Ever wonder why there's been no new innovations in getting our fat ***** around? Ever wonder why the few electric cars we finally have are so ******* expensive? Jesus, wake the **** up! Anyway, I was thinking about how this was the 3rd day in a row of 99 degree temps and how anything over 90 degrees was a rarity when I was a kid. So I gotta say Al Gore had his **** together…Inconvenient Truth baby! So, what the **** happened to Al Gore...thank you! So I get home and stand in front of my ac for 10 minutes because I’m sweatin’ my *** off. Then I turn on the tv to relax for a few minutes and I see that oil is still leakin’ in the Golf. Haven’t they fixed that **** yet? Why ain’t these ******* in jail? Millions of gallons of oil going through a pipe into a boat and they got no ******* plan to stop it if it ***** up? Way to go BP, you stupid *****! Oh, and thank you for keeping an eye on this **** for us…whatever department we are paying taxes out the *** for keepin' an eye on this **** for us! Also, gotta’ give a shout out to my buddies at Exxon once again who dragged their ***** through court for 20 years and ended up paying 10% of what they were originally ordered to pay for dropping millions of gallons of your precious oil into the Prince William Sound. Did you send thank you cards to the Supreme Court for kissin’ your ***** you collective pile of ****! How many thousands of lives did you ruin? Do you think about that…**** no! A few years ago I laughed when I saw somethin' on the web that said the 911 attack was planned. Now that **** was even too far out there for me to believe. Then I saw Mr. Bush tell a reporter that he saw the first plane hit the first building on tv before he went into that school. Think about that **** for a minute. JFK assassination…after years of reading books on this and seeing documentaries…I found out that even the Zapruder film has been spliced and diced from the get-go to possibly cover up a head shot from Kennedy’s left side. I said ‘possibly’ because I just don’t ******* know and none of us will until somebody that does tells us the truth. The truth...remember what that is? Maybe not...because we rarely hear it. God knows enough witnesses tried to tell the truth. They ended up either dead or scared of being dead. Ever hear of the Harper fragment? Look it up! The one thing that plays over and over in my head that points me in one direction is the two Secret Service agents being ordered back into their car filled with other secret service agents and away from the back of Kennedy’s car just before it headed down Dealy Plaza and seeing the one agent shrug his shoulders twice…as if to say…’why the **** do you want me to sit in the car doin' **** when my job is to protect the President.’ I bet you haven’t seen that, have you? Do I hate this Country, No! I love this country. What I hate is lies. What I hate is being manipulated. What I hate is greed…and those things have worked their way into our Government, our Corporations, Our media, our Courts and our thoughts. Even Eisenhower tried to warn us about this **** and Kennedy tried to stop it. Last President that actually had the ***** to stand up to these ****** that own our country now. Too many of us feel we are betraying country, neighbors and friends by questioning what is happening. It is possible to love and question. There’s a great line from a Clint Eastwood movie; 'Don’t **** down my back and tell me it’s rainin.’ Well, they been ******' down our backs ever since they slaughtered the original owners of this prized piece of real estate. Google 'Trail of Tears' and learn some history...cause you won't learn any of it in our wonderful educational system. **** it’s HOT!
I’m nobody…but if I was somebody and this was published in Rolling Stone and one week later they found me dearly departed…the victim of a drug overdose, a fast moving cancer, a karate chop to the neck or a single car accident in the desert…would you question or would you accept…question or accept….question…love ya Dorothy!

the beat changes in your presence
skips to a slightly altered cadence
more blood, more power
the awakening of my heart
the eyes more perceptive
the brain aglow
the scent of you kisses the marrow
and ignites every nerve
these moments
I breathe you
absorb you
quiver in your touch

such is the rhythm
of love

It is the Sun that awakens me these mornings
I no longer reach the beach in time to see it rise
as we did
I must get back to that
hold on to those things we shared
those precious hours
or should I

I walk the beach
talk to you when I sense you near
two gulls glide like silk just off shore
there are bits and pieces I visit with you
embraces
laughter
as we lost ourselves in the waves at dusk
these memories will never leave

I grow tired in the evenings
the price of love is steep
when it is over
the power of memory
a fine line between pleasure and pain

I have come to find this room
my salvation
here I can seperate the two
explore the side that rarely shows
where time does not press it's heavy hands
against my back

you let me know of your presence that first night
when you brushed the dollar bill from the table
as I had asked
you allow my return
I sense that you even welcome me
here in this room where you passed
to make that connection
does it mean that you are not really gone
in spirit?
do you even have that choice?

see the world through my eyes if you wish
walk beside me in the life outside this room
I am here for you my friend

storms roll in
as my final breath approaches
it begins it's journey as that breath is taken
dancing upon a lightning bolt to the clear night sky above
shimmering moonlight it follows to islands of crystal blue waters
then shooting up to the outskirts of Heaven
to frolic among the constellations
turning from Orion to look upon it's new home
and allowed a moments burn
the time savored
the life lived upon the planet of oceans and mountains and lush green fields
the planet where love is unique
and power is held by a heartless few
where the many lives touched
and memories rendered
will fade like the morning fog
into the lost oasis of time
this
the journey of my soul

In the dim light of the kitchen
I noticed she was standing,
gazing through the window
for quite some time
I took another sip of coffee
and made my way over
her back to me
I put my arm round her shoulder as I often do
"What do you see out there in the dark?"
she didn't answer
just continued to stare
then turning slightly toward me
I saw a tear had made it's way down her cheek
her hand was shaking just enough that I would notice
"I don't remember walking over here"
she said in such a pitiful voice
that I had to fight back my own tears
"You're just tired
Maybe we should turn in early"

Like the dying light of a distant star
I was losing her
a little more each night

In the dim of the kitchen
I sip my coffee
and eye a black patch of sky
where once flickered the light of a star
so brightly

I hear soft music
haunting sitar riding the low wave of a synthesizer bass
I am perplexed by the choice I must make
be taken by the song
or fight the twisting pain in my chest
'In search of the lost chord'
that Moody Blues title
I've found it!
here in the between space
'Visions of Paradise'
'Steppin' in a Time Zone'
I'm dying
and I can't stop listening
can't stop
the pain subsides
and I am crossed
I think
the music and vision now clear and strong
George is playing the sitar
and the synthesizer is not a synthesizer
but the wave itself
the beach I return to each Summer
Vincent hums along as he paints a wheat field
that fades in and out over the horizon
and the Sun is blazing
there in a white suit I see him
"The Lucky man..."
John says to Marilyn
as he turns toward me
..."you've made the grade"

the Sun suddenly falls behind the horizon
the music fades
I begin moving back to the center of all there was
and for a moment there is nothing
no sound
no light
then a voice
"It looks as if he's decided to return"
I awake to see a man in a very long beard,
dressed in white
with round spectacles staring down at me
"I'm Dr. Wall...Russ Wall"
"You're a lucky man! looks as though it's just another day in the life of...
what was your name, friend?"

i have turned
to collect myself
to inspect myself
to inject myself
with an unknown matter
a random chatter
an endless ladder
i have skin
of an ancient breed
a visitors need
an implanted seed
a timeless fear
a broken gear
that leads me here
wondering what it is
i am missing

across the timeless
shimmering blindness
oceans of our love
we melt in mindless
liquid and spineless
dying in our love
drifting
floating
waves eroding
Sunlight of our love

in death we are freeing
the core of our being
transcending blood and bone
our bodies now rust
in a cosmic gold dust
as we dance upon sea
air
and stone

along these barren shores
of an unnamed land
the sea rages
as far as the mind's eye will go
it is a fruitless war I wage
against unseen enemies
I am old, weak and weary of the fight
to simply stand and face the elements
takes its toll
it seems I have walked this shoreline
for some time now
for some years now
all too familiar
the thunder cracks
lightning dances along the breaking waves
I see forms in the sand just ahead
footsteps walking in the same direction

drip upon a tired lake
bird sings out at an old man's wake
memory reborn for memory's sake
rumbles in a dormant soul
Sun peeks through a storm strewn sky
baby is sung a lullaby
heart holds a beat while it says goodbye
repent my prodigal son
None shall speak of this in lore
the end draws near this final war
the ripple shall never reach the shore
drip upon a tired lake

the invisible weight
of blind transition
climbs my back
sits upon my shoulders
laughter goes silent
colors once vibrant
turn black and grey
I move in slow motion
every thought enslaved
every dream a nightmare
my monster has returned

Rush
do not dawdle
into that working man's dream
fly by night to reach your destination
where the caress of steel melts like butter in your hands
the future
fly into 2112
where you bid farewell to kings and dragons
where all hemispheres are attainable
and waves are permanent
you will live and breathe moving pictures of art
your only signals will be your own
grace will not falter under pressure
there are no two way power windows
all is seen clearly and 'hold your fire'
is an ancient, unnecessary phrase
no magic potions
no presto
so, will you take the leap
roll the bones
and enter this new world where all beings
are your counterparts, not your enemy
no need to test for echo
no vapor trails
no feedback
leave these snakes and arrows behind
your clockwork angels await your arrival
Rush!

they scatter like klegetts when we turn our lights on
they see well in the Sun
this is why we wait for night’s cover
to begin the hunt
when they search for food

we note that they are beginning to feed on themselves
as their numbers diminish and their food supply wanes
we’re not sure when they started here
notations from the last visitors
reflect a pristine oasis
if we are to make this place our home
we must eliminate this useless species
after years of study they are shown to have
only negative impact on their surroundings

in the beginning I felt remorse for these creatures
however, after learning that they have caused the extinction
of numerous species
docile inhabitants
my remorse has turned to determination
to see them vanquished
and to clear a path for the return to the majestic beauty
that once thrived here


the humans are close to elimination
the cleansing is nearly complete

this same moon sits above the tree line
and with it’s light I can distinguish,
even in the bleakest of nights,
that line set against the pitch black sky

I grow cold
and my bones ache of age
as I languish here
drowning in this sea of irrelevance
this vile, slow torture
that awaits my every dawn

they look at me with a curious eye
that quickly turns to distant fear
those who sleep above their dreams
and question not their souls

I have risen above the storm
while other men succumb to less
no-one turns as I pass
or nods in respect
yet I have conquered foe
they shall never see in their lifetime
I have faced evil in the coldest of nights
pulled another from the reaper's clutch
where many accept
I resist
where many remain silent
I question
I shall pass into my eternal home
as I arrived in this one
identity my own
dignity intact
my soul clean
as falling snow

and in these bleakest of nights
when my self analysis
third person psychobabble
holds minimal sway
i run from the dark
into the black
into the pitch
where i am safe
from all light
all thought
until the passing
the silent storm that rages
will end only with time
or submission

the whispers that bring me out of sleep
leaving only echoes to mull in my awakened state
knowing he is there
lapping my fear
the shadows that follow at the edge of light
the invisible touch that stops my step cold
this cannot be
i plead within my sanity
and yet i know he is there
just outside looking in
his cold breath runs like dancing flies down my neck
he will haunt me
through this life and perhaps another
he talks not in words
but in the wind when the night is still
in the shadows that move and meld and breathe
in the pictures he leaves for me
lest I forget
the evil that awaits the coming night

this distance seems irrelevant
in the half light of a quarter turn
in the shaft of Sun that dances
through the cracked cloud
the rain teetering

i run to the corner
that is pitch
but never reach the end
the room expands into a desert
and I just keep
running

sad...
the elusiveness of time

the colors of love reside in you
i am black, gray and midnight blue
sun meets moon at daylights wake
yellow skips along ocean’s break
clouds of black soak waves of green
raise a rainbow briefly seen
my lover dreams in night’s caress
of flower petals and wedding dress
while in the shadows
i sleep content
the color of her love is meant…
for me

I hear her name
and a piece of my soul breaks away
and drifts into oblivion

I recall her face
and a twinge in my heart
sinks deep and takes root

I feel the one kiss
that sustained me as water
to a dying plant

Time can be cruel
it never forgets
true love

I have loved you these many years
As I love you now
As we sit quietly
Dancing along the guise of friendship

The stares that linger a second longer
Than a friend’s stare should
the soft laughter
that muffles the cry of a yearning heart

The torture
I fear
Of knowing I’ll never have you
May not equal
The torture
Of never sharing a smile
Daring a whisper
Or chasing a dream

In the chambers of this weathered mind
Memory seeps and pools
Like flooding streets

Ships of thought
Sail a blinding mist
On seas of no return

Hope is devoured
Like Suns in a black hole
Echoes in a dream
True love in this madness

the irrelevancy of this day
blots the Sun
with the suffocating light of indifference

the urge to scream is often there
just below that inane giggle
that maniacal grin

that ever recurring crystalline voice
whispering from the lips of a fading thought
'we are all undeniably
irrevocably
lost'

I am awakened by a dream
That slowly comes into view
From gray shadows to crystal clarity
Of both sight and sound
Distant fire crackles
The smell of burning wood stretches
These miles of open wilderness
The rolling water of the river
Behind me
I stand in thanks to the spirits
That have shown me the way
And the bounty I will share
A great storm erupts on the distant horizon
Sweeping across the plains
Relentless
Destructive
Thunder rolls and lightning strikes
The swirling winds gather us up
And take us away
The cries
Echo in my head
Then fade to black

It began its free fall from somewhere above 100
Bobbing and weaving
The white reflecting the sun
As it twisted and turned
On it’s long journey down
Amazing to watch really
Such a delicate sight amidst such chaos
I wondered what was written
Maybe it is just a page of a 200 page report
On the benefits of switching from rubber
To plastic door stops?
Or perhaps a blank sheet of copy paper
Ripped from it’s wrapping
Ripped from it’s family
Whatever it was
It was beautiful to see
I followed it all the way down
91,44,20,11,7.…
Until it came to rest gently in the dust

I must know
It is right there, so close
I must know before I join the others
Or I shall leave this earth with that question
Unanswered
A fate I wish on no-one

In the blinding, falling dust
I made my way to the paper
My eyes never leaving the spot
Past those faces that one can only imagine would look
In the balance of life and death
And I came upon it
I felt great relief in seeing letters
Beneath the fresh dust
I brushed it gently and began to read

Dear Mom & Dad,
We are learning to use e-mails on the computer today. Our first assignment is to write a letter to our Parents. We learned lots of cool stuff in class. We learned about President Kennedy who sounded like a great man. But then we learned that he was assassinated and everybody got real quiet. Why did that bad man **** President Kennedy? Why didn’t they stop him? Mr Turner didn't know why. Then we learned about the Empire State Building and other real tall buildings like the one you work in Daddy and how we can feel safe in them because they are built so strong. Well, it’s time for recess and Mr Turner is going to play touch football with us. See you after school!! I love you guys! Bye, Bobby

My first tear was eclipsed by a great shadow before it hit the ground

Promise after promise is broken
as she lay dormant for so many years
now we spill her blood once again
fouling the oceans

Her true children weep in silence
then wash upon her shores
in thousands
as we turn the channel

Unpunished and unchanged
the butchers laugh at our apathy
our leaders turn a blind eye
their hands open

God holds her crippled body
and asks for her forgiveness
that he would create such wretched creatures
who lay waste to this gift given them
their own
Mother Earth

The two young poets happened upon the old Library on the same day
When she arrived she noticed the young man off in the dark corner
Deep in thought
He noticed her as well but did not let on
She took her place near the window
Where the Sun washed that part of the room
She opened her notebook
And awaited a spark to send her on her rhyming way
She had vague ideas of a pristine palace that floated among the clouds
Atop a chunk of deep green earth


The young man was absorbed in a story of a young girl
Her life had been taken abruptly
She was halfway to the other side; the ‘in-between’
As I once heard it referenced
For she was not ready or willing to accept her death


The hours passed and as the Sun began to wane
The young girl departed


The following day she arrived to continue her work
And immediately noticed the mysterious boy in the corner
She returned to her spot by the window
In the Sun
And began working meticulously on her poem


After a short time she noticed that the poet across the room
Appeared to be finishing his work
And was preparing to leave
Her curiosity outweighed her apprehension
And she approached the fellow poet before he arose


“I couldn’t help but notice that you were working on something…
A poem perhaps?”
“Why yes;” he replied
“Would you care to read it?”
“Only if I’m not keeping you from being somewhere.
You looked about to leave.”
“I would rather be here.” he answered.
“Well, I’ll only be a minute.”


And with that she returned to her place by the window and began to read
He noticed that her beautiful smile quickly turned to a look of deep concern and discord
As she finished, she appeared shaken, almost frightened
She walked slowly back to the boy


“I didn’t care for your poem. It is much too sad. Poetry should not be sad, it should be beautiful and magical. What you see in your dreams. I’m sorry, I must be going.”
“Have you never had a nightmare?” he queried
“Yes, but I would never write a poem about it.”
“And why not? Shouldn’t something as deep and meaningful as poetry span all of our emotions, all of our fears as well as our joy? Like the perfect verse, should not our thoughts be balanced?
Would we not cheat ourselves and our audience if it were not?
Balance is the key
Sun and Moon
Day and Night
You and I"


With that she turned and left the boy
alone in the dark corner


For three days his words weighed on her
How dare he interrupt her perfect world
On the fourth day she returned to the old library
Not sure if she hoped he'd be there
Her feelings still hopelessly askew
She entered the room and felt both relief and sorrow
For the boy was not at his table
Off in that dark corner
'balance is the key...you and I'
she knows now
how those words moved her
As she turned to walk to her place near the window
She was stopped abruptly by the sight of him
Awash in Sunlight
Wearing a smile as bright as her own
Sitting, waiting at her table

it is cold here
frighteningly cold at this end of your dream
i stumble to the frigid peaks of this mountaintop
only to gaze in terror upon the same range before me once again
you awaken
and I remain
you dismiss
and I retain
the moments before sleep

I click the wasteland on
again
stumble out of bed
again
I need the comfort of the flickering lights against a dark wall
and the sound it makes
there's not enough despair in here
to be where I must be
a king has died of pain overdose
the story flashes from the screen
bounces off the hallway mirror and into my coffee
I sip without noticing a change
try to write of broken hopes and mended dreams
but the words are futile
weak
I seek the moon for vital signs
but a faceless cloud of shapeless form
holds nothing to inspire
there are faces of thousands
who offer their lives but for a taste of freedom
their screams float silently out of reach
come to rest in a candy dish
do I ponder the ultimate poetic gesture
suffer no more these sleepless nights
perhaps I will sleep on such thoughts

I once relished the night
as it took me in like a lost child
child that I was
it's shadows a source of comfort
curtain pulled across those shallow faces
'rest my son and do not fear the darkness
sleep to the hum of a thousand souls watching over you'
my protector

but I have lost my way in this solitude
that was once my salvation
this island I called home
and when I seek the warmth of my beloved
she turns away as if I am the demon of her dreams
why did you abandon me
my shadow
where does one turn when they have outlived the night

In the Winter of his 40th year
he looked upon the stones
and remembered their faces
when they were younger than he
he remembered how the essence of life
was in their smiles
sustained him through years of darkness
allowed him to survive it
he remembered when they first saw their Grandson
in his arms
as he once was in theirs
'these are your Grandparents kids
they are why you are here'

the wind blew and the leaves swirled
and the Sun was low
as I held them close to me
touched their names and gave them back their smiles

so, pay attention now
get your heads out your *****
these are facts you never learned on the news or in history classes
as one leads to the next you will come to understand
that the veil of lies and secrecy is a cancer in this land
if you have no time to read because you can't handle what is true
then here's the chance to turn away and I won't bother you
the history of 'our' nation could only see the light
if the residents currently occupying it were hidden from our sight
they were slaughtered, starved and herded
and minimized through the years
until the final, heartless march
along the Trail of Tears
now we had our land and prospered well
as we ravaged Mother Earth
the savagery and ungoverned progress
abandoned human worth
slavery and divided direction
led to civil war
******, ****, abuse and hate
spread from shore to shore
the travesty of Pearl Harbor
a wretched trade of patriotic lives
our entry into world war II
on the backs of weeping mothers and wives
then comes the ultimate nightmare
the mother of all blatant crime
the execution of the seeker of change
that forever altered the beautiful rhyme
he saw the power they recklessly flaunted
in the corridors and once sacred halls
and vowed to castrate the power mongers
the industrial and military *****
the result was their production
a badly written and acted plight
staged before the world to see
an execution in broad daylight
'we have control'
don't **** with us
is the message they convey
removing all witnesses,
then Bobby and Martin
all better souls than they
911 - don't get me started
the truth will soon be known
and all like I who speak the truth
may one day meet their drone
as a threat to this great nation
as a hater in their eyes
I will not deny conclusions
I will not support their lies
we must face the evil in these dark corners
we must come in from the blinding rain
if we are to save ourselves
we cannot live our lives in vain
search your heart and search the truth
it is there for you to find
our history resurrected
our future no longer blind

I am many men of many dreams
swarm of poets, spectrum of moods
relentless in my pursuit
of the perfectly articulated thought

Should I bore you
it will not be by repetition,
varying slants on a similar theme
I will lead you into my rage
allow you to taste your anger
then share with you
my most bittersweet tears

I am an open wound
lightning rod of emotion
who cherishes the human storm

I will never be in books
my history will end with my last breath
but what I give you will never be tainted
by that which comes with discovery

The footsteps come
and he knows
though his throat is dry as dust
and his body ravaged
he knows
it is his turn
eyes sunken and glazed
give no hint that this is welcomed knowledge
he clings to the energy of memories
that somehow remain clear
his life unfolds in thought
the cry of his firstborn
the warmth of his only love

the footsteps come to a stop
he wonders if this staunch, stone face of the soldier
that now stands before him has ever known such love
he is able to get to his feet and accepts no help
he nods to the living corpses that remain
vacant of hope
awaiting their turn
outside he manages to raise his eyes toward what little Sun
finds its way through the dense cloud of humanity
it seems to give him strength
he mutters 'vergeben ihre seelen' as he makes his way towards the showers
the soldier hears
pauses for just a moment
and continues on

I lose myself in 'View at Arles with Irises'
and wonder how close I am to seeing Vincent
standing in that field
fighting the wind
frustrated at never quite seeing the pure expression
in his head
realized on canvas
I would tell him I see it
I know it as he does
he looks pensively at the beauty he has created
slowly raises his head
and unseen in the portraits
there comes a smile
he sets the brush aside
lights his pipe
and begins to tell the story
of the smoking skull

it was somewhere within a nightmare
she appeared
quieting the storm
and sending black rolling clouds
into the Sea
the Sun returned while sounds of  nature magnified
and slowed
as they do in dreams
she turned and walked towards me
her white flowing gown
being slowly removed
we made love to a song I'd never heard
but knew
her blue eyes spoke in words of love I'd never heard
but remembered
while our bodies dripped with the colors of our dream
I fell asleep during a kiss
and awoke to the sounds of life
to the smell of reality
wondering if such beauty
could ever be realized

I lurk beneath the Sea
and hide among the sharks
when storms are fierce
and batter all who swim
against the waves
the blanket of the night
is home to my seclusion
fuel for my illusion
where I awake
when others pale
where I thrive
when others fail
to see the beauty
in silence

I am no longer the focus
of Victoria's view
the object in her direction
her sights now raised
above the dwindling light
of my affection

this dangerous game we play
like fire on ice
the closer we get
the more likely we are
to drown

They came by the hundreds
not thousands or millions
for millions had been vanquished
they came seeking some glimpse of hope
here at the shoreline
driven from their homes
by the fires that raged
seen even by those banished to Moon's Sector 9
airtight tears for those left to face certain genocide;
the cleansing
the great winged beast carried the Surveyor
to cross the Sea of Shadows
how many are left
he was to determine
how long before Earth is ours?
He delighted in their suffering
as he now hovered above them
just off the ocean's edge
'You can perish here or be taken to Sector 9
it is your choice
you are familiar with slavery
are you not?
So you shall adapt'
and with that he snorted and his beast whinnied maliciously
like some monstrous, hulking mule
while rearing it's hideous head
some tree limbs were moved where the beach front gave way to a patch of woods
revealing a crude catapult contraption constructed of wood planks,
rope and a leather pouch
it stood upon a wheeled platform with a handful of men surrounding it
one man held an ax
it had been adjusted and was now aligned with the beast
the Surveyor, upon seeing the weapon snorted louder in defiance
just as the ax came down to cut the rope
the boulder struck the beast just below it's long neck
it reared back violently, throwing the Surveyor into the Sea
then flailing and kicking as it screamed in agony
falling to it's death
One man stepped forward and pointed to the Surveyor
as he gasped for air, bobbing in and out of the waves
'This is our home and we will be staying' spoke Jodehon
a glimpse of hope

thus began the Battle of the Nines

Worm twists on a shimmering hook
and streaks towards it's deadly splash
backyard wedding, laughter echoes
on the wings of a camera flash
starlings find a telephone line
to rest, review the day
starlight prepares to greet the moon
born millenniums away
traveling whisper, undisturbed
a million years in flight
to catch the eye of desperate souls
to spark a dream this night
infants final cry is heard
above the halted wind
Stevie Nicks sends frozen love
through the silent, somber din
in a million years on a distant land
our final light is done
as the worm evades it's watery grave
at the edge of the second Sun

called to scour these transient shores
i am slammed against graffitti'd walls
by winds of hate
and waves of steel
in silent vigil
i caress the promise time has made
the place that fate holds for me
i can see
i can touch
i will find
at the end of this storm

Sorrow casts a lazy eye
through a passing cloud above
remorse has found a place to rest
longside my one true love
bitterness whispers
then fades gently
into the 'sea of truth be known'
she gave her soul to one unwilling
and fed that love alone
the color of the dream she knew
whilst I slept deep and blind
kept hampered by a governed heart
afraid to beat in kind
yet in the waking hour she shines
enduring light through great despair
I'd gladly trade the days I've left
to kiss her honey hair