the poetry of simplicity
the delicate wonder of a stars timeless light
the soft soul dance of lovers unspoken emotion

the intricate and infinite world of dream memories
that lay waiting for the routine,
yet vastly uncharted landscape of sleep

and in sleep
the poet thrived
washed in fields of light
and oceans of pure and pristine thought

in the day
when the universe was kind
it would send him the words
that began the story
of his dreamscape

some say he was reaching for a pen
as new words fell from the Sun
he drifted slowly and silently from the road
the words never written
the dream never shared
by this simple man

it is nearly December
and here I sit
alone
on the beach of Buxton
just in front of the immaculate Hatteras Lighthouse
only a few surf fisherman
are within eyeshot
maybe half a mile towards Frisco
and one obvious resident of the area
bronze skinned and soaking in more
of the late season Sun
walks her Lab along the shoreline
it is every bit 72 degrees
and the light breeze is only perfect
the terns float in the hundreds
a few hundred yards offshore
as I admire them
I spot several dolphins on the move nearby
one jumps like a kid showing off
this is followed by a dozen or so pelicans
playing follow the leader a foot above the ocean
then dive bombing for fish

I come alive when I step from the concrete to the sand
when I hear the beautiful music of the waves pounding the shore
in perfect, slow rhythm
this is where I find myself
where my worries drift slowly out to Sea
with every precious moment I have
in these
Outer Banks

the memories
at least those pre - incept date
are presented in shuffle mode
designed to initiate during down time
when heart rate slows
less random and more vivid than human
Roy had no idea
until now
that he could very well be dying
he seemed to be thinking outside the realm
of typical replicant query

why were his dreams ending before completion
his ravenous appetite diminishing
his fixation with the moon now fading

death comes quickly to the replicant
no long suffering illness
many humans must face
the clock stops ticking
and the implants die first
leaving the final few moments
all his, all Roy

were his tears
like his memories
lost in rain
perhaps his most human trait
is revealed in his final moments
the acceptance of death
amid the realization he had lived

when the last line is written
when the last rhyme is pulled from the bowels of that…
place
when the brain burn and the message is to my liking for now
i will return to the folded arms comfort of night
pick out a star and float to it
sleep

unlike the wicked warmth of tequila
or *******'s almost passive attempts to own me
the word is my true addiction
the insidious hold it has
drawing me in
calling to me every waking moment
i fear the whispers will not end in death
and i shall face an eternity living the nightmare
of an incomplete batch of words
that hold the key to my missing life

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

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

Monk Taio Kaneta

In everyday life
we sacrifice our need to feel
without even knowing it

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

Uncharted
Undisturbed
Uninhabited

Uncharted
Undisturbed
Inhabited

Overpopulated
Overused
Over time

Over

maybe I'll write a poem today
I've got little else to do
my junk news, wordles, and puzzles are done
did the laundry too

I've got a book to write
and friends to visit
why is that such a reach?
I go through the motions in my comfort zone
watching silent webcams of the beach

I need milk and bread
cereal and eggs
but Walmart seems so far away
little makes me laugh or cry
and each color turns to gray

malignant soul
racing through life with eyes fixed
not on the stars
but on these satellites you wish to destroy
system crawler
captain of the drones
your walls hide you no more
for I
survivor of the phase
occupier of the after
thinker
now multiply
and we
see
you

father, brother
4th son of mother

followed, observed
DNA preserved

hybrid, thinning
since the beginning

children moreso
narrowing torso

paralyzed, disrobed
scooped and probed

flashes, voices,
there are no choices

human emotion
what they crave

that's what it is
to be a slave

why is love such a difficult task
hard to capture
harder to grasp
it calls to you from a lover once yours
as you aimlessly stare from your silence
on these shores
how did it fade into something routine
yet hollow your heart
when it
left

well, he didn't really get loose
I forgot to put him back with Spike after his 30 minutes of freedom
3 hours later, after looking under every chair and couch,
checking every room, every closet
inside every box of crap I keep in the basement
I got to wondering if he climbed into the basket of ***** clothes
and is now belly up in the rinse cycle
luckily that wasn't the case
after an exhaustive search,
I was convinced he was under or behind the refrigerator
but I was too tired to move it
so I decided to wait until tomorrow
as I was about to climb into my luxurious air mattress
something caught my eye in the corner
Zilla was poking his head out from under the speaker
of my mp3 player
stared at me as if to say;
'you lookin' for me?'
I knew he was hungry...he didn't think about that
when he went awol
so I put him back in his glass house where Spike gave him a
'welcome home'
slap in the face with his tongue
and I fed him a nice juicy superworm

no fur on the clothes or furniture
no barking at the neighbors
no smelly litter boxes or yard mines
no yearly shots, expensive food, flea and tic oil
sweaters, burial plots, surgeries, walks in the park...MUST I GO ON?!
Geckos...the perfect pet!

frame by frame i sit and view
the story unfold like a gentle sigh
or a savage scream
spellbound in this intoxicating isolation
carried from my mundane truth
i fuse with the flickers and sounds
that emanate from this giant looking glass
igniting emotions long departed from this life
what a wondrous thing it is
to be moved by lights and words
woven in a veil of music
taken away for just a brief time
to live another's story
as the credits roll
as the lights fade in
and the picture fades out
i turn my collar
head into the cold night
to play the scene from which i escape
every now and again

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

grey dusk
and blue tomorrow
fade to black
then back to sorrow
take my heart
but never borrow
this love is all but spent

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

the darkness deepens and slowly sighs
as it folds itself around me
envelops me in its thick
choking love
I awaken to shallow breath
and thoughts that border on madness
my sleep is no longer my escape
but rather a harbor for the remnants
of what once was a good life

Shaky Spear is my name
and rhyming is my game
though I don't need to rhyme
to be sublime
I prefer the lines
that stand on their own
just words alone
in a desert of colorless bone
and dying poets

darkness becomes me
it's silence and lack of clarity
it's empathy from whispered voices
when the dead come to visit
I sleep only in small doses
my own screams awaken me to moving shadows
and the chill of their presence
dazed knowledge of being touched
which I dismiss when the Sun arrives
yet the darkness becomes me
in a sordid kind of way
I muddle through the vacant day
smiling when I want to plea
for anyone to look and see
that I await the coming night
with urgency to dim the light
like an actor's role he cannot put down
or the painted smile of a dying clown
there is nothing more odd
yet meant to be
a fixture in this darkness
that so becomes me

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.

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

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

Someone along the way
I'm not sure who or why
drove my myth into the ground
derived pleasure in seeing
the dreams I thought attainable
turn to so many dried leaves
gathering in the corner
unnoticed

Somewhere along the way
I lost the will to hold
those dreams sacred
thus quieting my souls breath
to all but a whisper
all but a vanquished hope
silent in the corner
unheard

Somehow along the way
I found solace in relinquishing
that which set me apart
from those already there
aglow in blind contentment
the safety of their corner
awaiting the day
and not the night
my own shadow
become a stranger

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

each night they come
tapping on the wall
voices in the hall
laying their hands on my shoulder

is it touching life that they need
will they follow me til' death
will they covet my last breath
growing weak as I grow older

what awaits my simple soul
will they welcome me with tears
will I wander lost for years
in a realm where hearts are colder

what light you let me see
I know you'll wait for me
I set my spirit free
to the whispers in the dark

wile away or while away?
these are the questions one has time to ponder
when newly retired
honey wheat or white bread for my tuna fish sandwich?
toasted or plain?
why didn't I buy a few onions when I went out yesterday?
onions, cucumbers and vinegar...make a note!
which series should I begin watching on dvds
that were given to me years ago for just this time?
I guess I'll start with 'Breaking Bad'
since I've seen the first 3 or 4 episodes
then 'True Detectives', then 'Fargo' even though
I mistakenly saw the last episode
bought a water filtration system for drinking and showering
did you know that in 10 minutes of showering the body
absorbs a gallon of water and it's just as lethal as drinking it?
I gotta get back to my book...get serious man!
serious or sirius?

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