My father said,
"I don't love you
unconditionally."

I heard,
"I'm not ready to love
unconditionally."

Success is
learning the things
he couldn't.

The fires burn deep in the blackened night
Soft hues shifting, everlasting light
Subtle throes of twisted agony
Sweet caresses tell the tale of tragedy
She squirms and moves, hips sliding delicately
A lithe creature from a nightmare, seduces me
A voice like a siren cries into the forbidden night
A world in ecstasy sings to nature’s blight
Wet furtive movements, soft gentle moans
Escaping from the throat, of the angel of Rome

A shrieking Harlot
Bequeaths my ears with sound
Forbidden, so tainted, her breast a shivering mound
I love her, I hate her
Erratic, writhing, torment, agony, upon the ground
Love lost, pleasure found, a world in turmoil
A man drowned

Every breath
Is a new opportunity
It's never too late
To save yourself.

By John Pass


A kick or two out
against the playful waves

then roll over, look back
so often I've done this, summers

without number, friends or family
on the shore, a ledge

of rock at Ruby Lake
or Lighthouse Park, trees behind

and above them leaning out
for the open light

and reflected light
and my delight not simply

to be swimming, a float
but in the perspective

of people in a landscape
beautifully proportioned

enclosed in a moment
as though in another room

but present, whole, unencumbered  -
the sky always blue

( beach weather ) the shoreline reaching
around, away, each way

a point, or cliff, or thicket
of willow, quietly emphatic

of the people, their intimate
isolation, approachable

passing a towel or plum
getting comfortable, distant

but undiminished, and I

alone in the water, ambiguously

proud of them, pleased
to swim in and be counted

among them


John Pass

I love Buddhism because there are concepts and ideologies that most people have never even begun to attempt to understand or long to radiate
Oops, speaking idealistic again
I love Buddhism because those essences make up me entirely
I am those forms
I understand them and feel them as though they are my own touch and smell
I am those forms
And nobody knows that but me

I sit and observe and grin at myself
Because no one has the slightest idea that I am half in this realm, half in another