On the 8’x10′ beige carpet that you chose
We lie together, spooning.
Of all the possibilities I had for myself
Never was this a part.
Never had I thought of a caressing hand
Holding me together.
Of eyes filled with passion
Transfixed on me.
Of another skin , this close to mine.

And slowly your grips tightens.
You hold me down.
Hold me captive in a heart so dear to me.
And I see all my dreams in front of me.
Are you making them come true?
Or are they leaking out of me?
Through the cracks made by strikes
Of your once loving hands.
Is their fading away their
Last goodbye to me?

But it’s a loss I can live with.
Tell me your dreams,
To fill the spaces that mine occupied.
Or tell me of a way to get mine back
Without having to leave you.
Tell me of love, your love.
Let my heart be consoled by that.
Tell me of how I once was,
Before you. I can’t remember,
Do you?

Kiss me, remind me
Why we are here?
Can you lessen my pain?
Can you free me?
You smile.
Of course, you can.

So I close my eyes and wait.
Wait patiently for my release.
I wait till I feel
The blade on my neck
And your breath on my back.
So this is love, isn’t it?
A slow death.
A silent wait.
Dripping blood
And a red carpet.

I have an idea of Myself.

And how often, in the unregistered intervals of time,

When thoughts of world avoided me

with as much  fervor as I avoid this world.

I think of what I am,

I realize that of all the people I have deceived,

the one I fooled with perfection was myself.

When I see what I do not want to,

my mind desperately grabs onto a stray thought,

to distract me from understanding

Of what I am about to realize.



But I know this game too well

and this is not a secret that I have uncovered

for the first time in life.

It is what I half-remember in all my waking hours

and all that I know of in my sleep.



I know this lie, I have been telling myself.

But today is not the day,

to shatter my Idea of Me

with one cruel realization.



The day, when it comes,

shall be the last, I breathe, as me.

For I cherish this Idea

more than myself.

I wipe the tears!
Overcome the fears,
From turbulent to calm,
My life steers!

I let the things go
Let the life flow,
From the dark to a spark,
The life gets a glow!

I forgive!
The gratitude I give,
From gloom to bloom,
I begin to live!

I forget!
And having no regret,
From messed to blessed,
Now the life is great!

I pray!
At the end of the day,
From painful to blissful,
The life finds a way!

Have you ever wondered if this world is the actual
hell we live in and if we are being tested
by how well we deal?
We are living in a place where pain, suffering,
and then ultimately death are of everyday existence
I understand that perception is everything here
and this world is an illusion generated by our perception
I am not trying to be a downer but the more I live
in this world the more I see it as a nightmare
that some days I just want to wake up from

This is not coming from my religious beliefs and I am
not saying that I am not grateful for everything I do have
Compared to a lot of other people in this world I do not
have it so bad and I know this.  This is coming from
a thought process I have been trying to come to terms with

Is there a bright light at the end of this very dark tunnel?
Of course we all have different journey's to take to get us
to that tunnel but while we are here our paths do cross from
time to time and we all have some of the same pains
sufferings and even death to overcome

My point is this...
We are all living in this hell together
Let's get through this hell together
This thought has become a shining
Ray of light in this dark
Find some comfort in this
and
Perhaps there is hope for us all

On the stage
is the one
he is not

smiles shakes hands
holds close and tight
he is right on spot.

Hides the real face
speaks and shares
like he is a saint

blamelessly white
open in the light
without a taint.

Busy in the act
to keep away the fact
he is on guard

audience gloats
over crisp anecdotes
any dissent debarred.

From a distance
some in silence
read it in bold

the gore in the glory
the gaps in the story
and all that's untold.

The last lantern flickered
reflected in the black water
while raindrops made ripples
and little waves were formed
in the wake of the wooden boat’s
unsteady movements.

No cars or clocks to hear
just the soothing percussion
of light rain falling
on a saltwater world
of an eerily clouded night.

The empty vessel
loses itself in
the same ocean
that claimed
the men who had been
rowing out for some
grand late-night fishing.

It was a
suicidal game
of self-destruction,
as I walked slowly
on the white winter ground.

Four or more
sleep deprived nights
because of some
drug a doctor prescribed
that nearly fried
my already fragile mind.

For the first time in my life
I decided to give cigarettes a try.
Cancer be ******
because I had already been
******* condemned.
So, I smoked them.

Pushed to the edge,
I punished myself
with cold indifference
popping the last bits
of this sick prescription.

Earlier,
I asked the doctor
if I could take these
before I went to bed.
I guess he didn’t
listen to a word I said.
Was it his ignorance
or merely negligence
that nearly did me in?

On the fourth night,
I watched my best friend
collapse from his asthma
because he was
running to call the cops
to come and save me.

His efforts made me laugh,
as I indifferently considered
just finding a place to hide
while I waited to wither and die.

Oh, the spiral descends.
Empty eyes watch
as the stairs drop
into a circle that bends
swirling in an
infinite depression.

Soft thuds fill the air
as numerous feet follow down
chased by their own
bone chilling sound,

and while they move forward
the darkness envelopes all.
Waves of light retreat
as the children of man
come here to fall.

The anger does not fit
the cage in which you sit
when with a quick
flick of your thin wrists
you throw ****
and hit more often
then you miss.

You claim to be bereft,
that by some strange theft
your dignity was stolen,

but your religious devotion
pushes you right on your back
as it attempts to enslave,
takes the feminism you once praised
and burns all that progress we’ve made
away;

And your political affiliations
set you in a binary conflict
of liberal against conservative
as the wealthy puppeteers
put their hands up
both party’s ****** derriere
with campaign contributions
and other bribes.

While the pursuit of status
from the materials you lack,
like your Iphone ******,
your sports car crack,
and your commodified
individuality
which comes in
three different colors
a personalized
perfectly designed
clothing line,
makes you an addict
who has to pay
way past closing time
with soul sapping debt.

My sight, sick
Slick- a brush
Spreads your face
Layer by layer before me.

Unpeeled, my eyes
Sell truths my mind
Cherry picks, kicks around
Until they crumple,
Fester, shrivel
Fade.

For one brief
Infinite moment
I'm there beneath
That single layer,
Flush against
Soil, earth,
Summer and rain-
And the precise shade of olive
I've only ever seen
In the double sphere
Of each iris.

imagine a world
with no humans left

without
    man-made sounds
    street noise  airplanes
    laughter shouting fussing babies
    cars  radios TVs machines
    pop songs string orchestras
    
instead
     birdsongs  leaves blowing in the breeze
     sounds of rain  of springs and rivers
     deer splashing through a creek
     wild pigs snorting through the forest
     the sharp cry of an eagle
     owls hooting under the moon
     anmals rustling in the underbrush
     ivy decorating empty window frames

imagine
    all those poems
    nobody can read