POEM OF DISASTER (working on/editing)

POEMS OF DISTRESS (working on/editing)

POEMS OF LOSS (working on/editing)

POEMS OF AFTER (working on/editing)

POEMS OF DISARRY (working on/editing)

POEMS OF DISCOMFORT (working on/editing)

POEM OF DISASTER (working on/Editing)

—Ode to Lisa and Family

Nothing, Not Anything

What is the color of nothing? What does it look like?
What does it feel like?
Does it feel like what I know?
And if it does why can't I bear it?
Define it?

If I cannot bear it, put it down Then I cannot let it go,
and it rots me
Nothing is all that I have
It cannot be searched for
Put into words, canvas, or paints

Please tell me what is the color of nothing?
Because that is what is left
I cannot see it or believe it to have form
I still look everywhere, longing for something
But nothing sets forth

I feel it, barely believe it
Searching for something beyond it
But everything is nothing now
It surrounds my present, my future
Yet not my past, no not my past

Nothing does not live in the time of past
Only beautiful ghosts of form and color,
but I cannot live there very long
So I look to the present in the smallest amounts
Realizing you and your future are lost And I am left with nothing, not anything

One death is enough to bear, anymore I cannot
And nothing precedes, gives way It is too hard to bear nothing
Tell me please what is the color of nothing?
So I can put it down, make sense of it all Make it mine to bear

Nothing is too hard when it can’t be bore It has not color, form, or presence I look for you everywhere, still nothing is there
It stifles me, brings me here But paper cannot capture nothing, when it is not anything

I see nothing of once was mine
Yet I feel nothing in every core
And to feel nothing is not anything It is too much to bear nothing
Yet I want to bear it, if only for you

Everything is nothing now, not anything
And nothing physically left behind makes me without sight
This loss is too great to bear
And to be lost in nothing right now,
is not anything,

I know what you left and keep what is mine
But that does not bring me peace
Nor comfort or calm of mind
Just contempt for the Divine

Forgive me God, faith is weak
And you know my path, the path you laid upon me
But what was laid cannot be bore,
and asking for mercy
A force to define what was lost, left behind
Left with nothing, not anything

Still searching, can barely breathe
And nothing brings me to my knees
How can something be so powerful as nothing, yet not anything
Do you know the color of nothing?
Can you sit beside me give me sight?
Or is nothing meant not to be bore?

Can we share something so powerful and painful as nothing, yet not anything
I need to find the color, my grief, my sight
My grief is not nothing
It is everything, not anything
Please tell me, give me the color
What is the color of nothing?

March 22nd 2019

POEMS OF DISTRESS (working on/editing)

Car wreak

A car wreck ahead, traffic jam, pieces fall by wayside
On the side of the road stands a deer
Does he not know what he has done?

The suffering and the pain that now has everyone
Just because he had to embrace what caught his sight
That stupid deer, she does not see what he has done

A trail, a path, a sudden death
That which catches my eye forever
That stupid deer, she does not know what he has done

And I having to pass through it with a pale heart, given to a heavy hand
Only to look back like a deer in the headlights,
and having the courage to turn away

Unsettled: Hiding (corresponding painting ‘24)

Hiding
Too scared to reveal my truth
Hiding is safe

Neglecting things that should be done
Wallowing in what should have been,
and time passes

A toll to be paid hiding from oneself
Time shall be wasted,
and some time taken

Hiding is brutal at times of need
Hiding has hidden rewards,
and hidden regrets

Unsettled: Drowning (corresponding painting ‘24)

What you see does not reveal truth
I am drowning
You see what you want to see
I am drowning

If I let you beneath,
your opinion changed
But I remain the same
I am drowning

Look deeper to see truth
I am drowning in spite of you
See past the illusion
Calm the waves,
save me

Unsettled: Fading (corresponding painting ‘24 and ‘25)

What you see does reveal truth
I am drowning
You see what you want
You see what I wanted

Guiding you beneath,
Opinions do not matter anymore
When waves don’t remain the same,
and truth does not always look for spite

The illusion is gone
Waves have changed to storms
And a little harder to save,
when one cannot reach the water

Unsettled: Lost (corresponding painting ‘24)

Lost among such silence
You cannot see me
I cannot hear you
To find me would be untrue
Falling, fallen
Lost among all of you,
lost among just one

Broken (corresponding painting ‘24)

A broken window
Shattered by life, time
A reflection of truth now lies shattered

So many pieces laying on the floor
Nothing to protect from crashing, falling apart
Too many pieces

I can’t repair the window, bring it back
Cannot repair the pieces it took from you and me
We are broken glass, and in death free

Soon we will not remember
But pieces shall always remain,
laying on the floor

I cannot repair it
Can’t make it better
Not now, not ever

I cannot believe
Forever shattered by life that fosters broken glass,
and how it grates others

But there is no fault to be born broken
I will never understand broken glass in myself, in others
But I will always understand broken glass left behind, remembered

I don’t want to be broken anymore,
I don’t want to remember

Undone (corresponding painting ‘24)

No need to say more
My past expects clarity
I don’t want to show grace

My past presents itself, but not in glory
It charges forward to claim the living
Damage that does not want to be claimed

I do not want to feel
What it wants to destroy
Please leave it where it lies

I do not want to carry it anymore
It has grown heavy, petty, and without Faith
Please unravel it, leave it behind

The paths I walk now cannot bear its weight
Please leave it where it lies
Undone does not carry my fate or command my past
Please unravel it, leave it behind

My Tree (corresponding painting ‘24)

My tree of life
I make my own paths, but some paths given
Some paths abandoned
Some paths renewed
Some paths enjoyed,
and some paths destroyed

I cannot go back and fix branches broken by life’s storms
So I keep branching out
Reaching higher, but not always stronger
Growing weaker in mind, spirit
Trying to renew but every year it gets harder

My roots are strong beneath my feet,
I will only yield to the water
And not bother to seek what does not ground me
So I admire my branches for some are still strong,
but only reaching so far

Life is limited by time and paths chosen,
and colder by paths given
Whether I believe or not
I am still one tree,
in a valley of forests

Death of a Flower (corresponding painting ‘24 and’25)

Something so pure dies without warning
Something so fragile dies without warning
Something so worn dies without warning

Life dies without warning
Life was suppose to warn me
Send me a sign, a signal

But nothing was sent
And a life lost without a word is like a flower without water
Nothing was sent to warn of its value

The Silent Tree (corresponding painting ‘24)

Somewhere in between
The light and the dark
That is where I will be
Screaming to an audience of just one

My screams are meant for me alone
You will not hear them
Through your choice and mine
Though you may bear witness

My screams remain silent
They fall on ears that cannot hear;
to bear beside what lives within
When screams soon become audible
My screams will be dead and gone

A memory that once was
Silence still bears witness,
and it approves

Ode to Me (corresponding painting ‘24)

So selfish to display what I become
Innocence broken, past undone
Anger lies just above my soul
I can’t defend my weakness anymore,
devours me making me whole

Begging for mercy, forgiveness
On what I have endured, and what I have not done
I hate what I become,
a shell of webs binding me to the past
Claiming my present so it shall not be had
Except by anger that demands no response, or remorse

My future shall not be had by the living
Only by the dead that do not fade into the past
My passions, love for them
Breaking when remembering their souls
And my soul renewed just enough
To show that I can still stand on my own
Not think of taking me with my passions, or the dead

I shall sleep in an abundance of nothingness
Displaced by selfish endeavors,
and paintings that seek what I do not understand
I cannot display what I cannot stand
A blundered, misguided, shameful beautiful painting
Breaking myself not seeing the living

Being dead, seeking the dead,
and honoring the dead are all the same
I shall rule what you cannot see
And what you do not see destroys me making me whole
I repent and sorry has no meaning,
to what has been done to the living

“Ode to Me” is a selfish endeavor
So selfish in acts that pray for forgiveness
See Me, “Ode to Me”
As selfish as you stand
But for only a passing moment that shall never leave
Remind me of what I am
Someone I cannot stand to let lie upon the living

I have imprisoned myself where there is no room for the living
See Me, “Ode to Me”
For your disclosure has been said
I have exposed such selfish endeavors and side effects of inside pleasure
That do not seek the living, but only register the dead
Adhering to the dead and the places they keep
Places that leave me numb, unseen
No place for the living

So go and be free
Be free, “Ode to Me”
I release you from your selfish prison,
Where the dead roam and delight in selfish dances
Where paintings and poems seek only you,
roam far from
I release you, “Ode to Me”

You do not have to break bread with your passions and the dead
I release you
I set you free
Then see me where the light roams,
and dances with the living that bears no home

A Dance For One (corresponding painting ‘24)

A dance for one, a dance for many
Isolated by lines, misconceptions
Follow through, no exceptions
Questions are better kept for dancing

Hurry down the lines, nice and straight
Not to fall off to what appears precious
Yet I pull together tougher
To appear bigger than I am,
and small enough to walk the lines
Behind the crossover, I dance

A dance that comes with a song
Lines that come forth, sneak up from the past
Dancing fluid to appear the ease of the walk
If only the dance was visible, and the fall

Looking happy walking when dancing
But no one sees the stumbles, the falls, the crawls,
and I look up again
Wondering if there is something better than what I dance
Realizing I can break in many ways, and I fall
Bowing out for now

Dancing outside the lines, a familiar song
When the walking becomes visible,
lines soon disappear, and I fall
Another crawl to dance
Grateful to be alive,
the falls are many

Can you come with me?
Breaking the isolation and misconceptions, and we fall
Becoming weary and worn, encompassing circles
Bowing out to release the dance,
and silence washes over
Releasing the light into the dark
And the dark into the light

Pondering misconceptions given to a dance
To others who do not know won’t understand
A dance for a breath of each day
A break to see light blossom into…
Light bearing seeds that only grow in the dark
Bowing out can be a dreadful plight
At least until another song presents into…

Lines encompass circles that give to silence only one thought
A want of hope and forgiveness, another dance
A heroine thought, and I fall
Catching my breath and saving it
For the next dance, misconceptions
Trying to end the song that proceeds the dance
Leading me to a place of forgiveness that I am are ok,
and I fall

The Empty Chair (corresponding painting ‘24)

The empty chair is where I settle, not by choice
But by the wind that does not change course
A design flaw that carries no name
That does not live but only maintains
Maintaining an empty chair because sometimes I settle
To redeem a wholeness that proceeds to break upon the empty chair

 A chair that knows no life beyond my view
And I know of life while it waits
Waiting to be claimed, waiting to walk away
Not leaving it bare for too long
The maintenance of the empty chair beholden to not a price
To take pleasure in the maintenance that reality cannot repair
The empty chair knows there is no choice,
pleading mercy

So I take upon the chair, maintaining what is mine
And leaving it bare when life calls to be warmed
The maintenance of an empty chair repairs what is left;
that which flows within my reach
The empty chair is mine to bear and welcome
Every bit of the soul to be warmed, renewed and whole

Maintaining the chair does breach life
That does not know what it means to own an empty chair
A chair that does not seek to ignore life,
but only longs for a soul to settle
It heals and destroys as it breaks soon the life I know

So please do not settle here
This one is mine to claim and bear
Not being too foolish to believe that empty chairs are not to be shared,
but to know there are many
Your chair awaits by the way your wind carries,
and the cost to maintain
The chair destroys and heals the forgiveness that is yours, and mine

Empty chairs will take a place in life that cannot be ignored
To settle is not a choice,
and to embrace not a foolish claim
A must if an empty chair is to remain bare and not full of life
So I will settle only for a while
Claiming it, and knowing the price

Lost (corresponding painting ‘24)

Lost amongst the music,
and the Hell that brings with it
Can’t listen anymore, though it lingers
Never leaving me without my shining star,
covered by clouds
Clouds pass over, but never pass by

They do not know I am lost
All they see is the dance
Not knowing that rain is cold and drenching
No need for umbrellas to deflect the pain
Lingering sweet notes will capture what I reign,
making a path bearable
At least until I find what was lost

Music, sweet notes puddle around my feet
As I move towards the pain
Freedom comes with a hallow price
Keeping to the path, letting it reign
To familiar to let go
Besides what would be left?
Moving through life with too many umbrellas, or not enough

Lost in puddles with perceived depth
Yet I set foot upon the path,
Believing it to be a fine day
A melody is playing and a dance awaits
Leaving the umbrellas just for today,
because sweet notes still linger
A breath of familiar air and the reign awaits
With broken umbrellas reflecting the pain

I know the dance is visible
Even when lost to those who look away
Please pass by because there is a shining star,
covered by clouds
Waiting for the wind to calm what I reign

The Keeper

I just want to calm my body, mind and soul
Peace does not come easy
I envy those that know it’s presence, it’s soul

Wanting to be there to bask in what is not mine
But I cannot steal what I cannot keep
Longing for calm in something that will never be

This is what I have, what speaks to me
It’s been my truth so many years
Yet I still hope peace will come
Not in death, but in life

But we shall see
I am not the keeper of such a beautiful thing
Beholden to something that will never be,
the keeper

Paralyzed: Hope? (corresponding painting ‘24)

Looking for hope on a path where light slightly penetrates
Filling up holes with dirty paint, enough to be still
Dirt not washing away
Guess that is mine today

Holes in darkness lightning a path
And it’s all that I have from yesterday
But painted today, paralyzed
Sometimes so little left

Sinking, abandoning
Letting the view disappear from the light
Smudging the paint into the holes, just for today
Because it still lingers
Trying to abide to a breath of a light, paralyzed
and gifting it hope

Abandoning (corresponding painting ‘24)

To give hope when to know there is none
A cruel breach, a cruel reply
To be locked in and to swear it is not a lie
To tell it will get better when not a chance in hope
Given only cruel words that calm the soul
But neglects the truth, given to a lie

A selfish deed to give hope when none abound
To see the work of a lie blossom and feel joy
When all known is lost
But remembered with one cruel lie,
and a downward spiral

A lie discovered and a cruel mess exposed,
for one moment of joy
Cruel for many, cruel for one
Can’t lie anymore, hope will never be done
And it’s too cruel to live with such a lie

So I will give up this lie, this delicate dance
Even if it means abandoning a moment of joy
I can’t be cruel anymore
Hope is for the future, and that’s not where I lie
Giving up one moment of joy for a soul cleansed
And to beg no more, for joy that comes with a lie

Dead It

It comes from underground, where I place it
Seems familiar and dead
Voices are heard, where I place it
So I Scream to the present,
and fall back to the past

I dream of the future
Yet that’s not where I placed it
I am beneath it
And don’t need thought or judgment from within my head
Lingers in my way, making all impassable
Coming from dead spaces

I cannot face what is mine today
My body is humble, mind displaced
And all my emotions come from behind, where I place it
And release it to form and paper
Knowing I killed it,
and feeling the warmth

2018-2024

POEMS OF LOSS (working on/Editing)

Day 1

On day 1 you left this place
I cried out loud and buckled to the floor
Sadness bared heavy, and I welcomed it
Grief was felt till I could take no more
Then came the 2 day ritual to mourn, lay you to rest
And of course the 3 days to take leave

On the 4th I went out, laid upon your bed
In disbelief, sadness, and regret
For the saving I could not bring,
and the salvation that was not set forth
Upon the 5th I retreated to home
Sweeping Faith where it was not adored

The light could not bring what I forsaken
So the 6th and 7th laid heavy and taken
Pretending all was well and you but a whisper away
And the 8th came and showed the same
Pretending that Faith was still alive, not forsaken
and you but a whisper by my side

On the 9th I stepped outside, leaving Faith behind
Looked upon my view and all looked the same
All life hurried by
And I Screamed at them with every last breath,
"Don’t You Realize Something Beautiful Has Left This Place!"
But all is silent, and life does not take notice

On the 10th all is expected to be fine
I shuffle upon my day now, leaving Faith behind
I whisper now with every last breath,
"Shall every day be day 1 at least for now?"
But all is silent, and life does not take notice

A Heavy Hand

A heavy hand laid upon the soul
Expected to understand, grasp, control
Silent screams are not for me alone
The dead laid upon my path
I do not understand, grasp, believe
They are lost, and I cease to be

So I lay my Faith to rest
Do not believe which once was felt, praised, and embraced
What was laid upon my path has taken my very soul, breath and Faith
“Shall this too pass?” I scream with silent breath
Shall I not to be present to understand, grasp, control
Laying to rest a bitter soul

Or shall I scream out loud
Let it be known the depths of despair and pain
But if I do the thoughts you once thought, they are not my own
I have changed now, though I am the same

So there is a choice to be had and laid
Scream aloud? Let it be known?
Or choose to lay to rest that which
I thought was my own,
giving up my very breath

Death Comes Knocking

One, two, three, four
Death comes knocking at my door
But it is not the darkness, or Satin
Or life as some would say
It is the light that causes such despair
Does that bear a thought to unaccepted;
to bear the desire of everyday, neglected

Praying comfort in such dark days, yet Faith took
And in taking, “They are supposed to be saved”
And we rejoice in such comfort and heavenly ways
Yet there is so much pain left down here
Pain that was left for me and so many to bear
By taking what I thought was mine, and theirs

The innocent, the young, the brave
Yet there is no remorse
As if Satin has brought such dark days
Yet we praise you God, torturing with such ease
Fables so sweet now lack in meaning
Maybe a lesson in despair and sorrow,
riddles of loss and salvation
Now look where I stand with new revelation

Again it's all the same
Faith precedes the light and the dark
Taking such joy in the comfort you bring
Feeling the pain of taking with ease
It is a cruel selfish game to play
Lost in light and darkness, what you bring
No do not speak, you have no name
Such a cruel game to play

A Look At Death From Many A Side

One suffering, one quick, one who took, and one that bears many
I have bore death from many a side
“Which is worse, heavier, simpler?”, you ask
How dare you ask just because you seek the truth,
but you do not know

You have not felt the hand, a heavy path
Expected to follow a path which you did not pave
Expected to follow as if it were truth
One which is permanent, binding till death
A path which cannot be destroyed to turn around and seek another

“How do I feel?”, You dare ask
I feel betrayed, weak, sad, remorse
But I follow down through this path, with many
And one which will last
Memories ring hollow upon this path

However your path is paved too
But the path you walk now maybe beautiful, finds you well
I know why you ask, because someday our paths will be as one
Be similar, and painfully familiar

You will not want the burden of clarity,
but the warmth of understanding
Just don't ask right now, all is too sacred
And this path has made me weary
With anger that follows right behind with the abundance of wrath and clarity
You may ask when not so lost

Yes someday our paths will cross
Be similar and painfully familiar
You will not like what you see, what you feel
What you walk through will not always speak the truth
And the cast of shadows will not pass,
and memories will ring hollow upon your path

Clarity: The Prelude

Clarity, “Ha!”
Can't even see past my words, past my Faith
My view is cluttered with what marches within my head
My heart flutters to stay alive as clarity sweeps under my feet
I don't want to get up
I'll just be where clarity let me lie

I'm done whispering to make it better
I shutter on what will be placed within the future
Maybe a few more silent whispers
Then clarity will make it “better”

Clarity, what a joke
Maybe tomorrow there will be ambiguity
Maybe tomorrow I will see the Light
But I think not
I’ll just be where clarity let me rot

Faith Lost

As you all passed away into the light in which was held
What Faith burned bright is now cursed, repelled
Nothing left but anger and words
and sadness crumbles as nothing gives way

Past memories become my present self
And the future is not for me to know
And the present lost to who knows,
and anxiety grows

Faith buried beneath my feet
To bear the faithless and deceit
As tragedy is not for me alone,
and anxiety grows and sadness crumbles

The present being lost to the future
And I retreat to bear not alone
To bring Faith unknown,
and anxiety grows where nothing lives

I want so much what present brings
But too painful now
Hard to reach for something lost and first sown
And things I know I cannot feel,
and depression grows as nothing expands

I am lost and don't want to be saved
Salvation is for those who believe
And I do not believe,
and anger grows and sadness crumbles

Shall I pass into the light? Or into the night?
It does not matter, either or
It does not matter
They are one in the same within myself
and anxiety and depression have my name

Anger grows now beneath my feet
Where Faith lies and I retreat
and sadness crumbles

Faith Does Not Live Here Anymore

My heart was taken
Left with only grief
No Faith does not live here anymore,
in something in which I adored

Why would it be so damned?
Faith left when you were taken
And you were one which I adored
As Faith left on its own,
as I pushed it out the door

I will not go looking
Even when lost,
I am not the Sheppard
Nor would I ever claim to be

No I will not search to something lost
As it taunts me, tells me things that need not be said
To belief untrue and not wed
No Faith does not live here anymore,
in something in which I adored

Not the Sheppard to once I thought
For I am still lost
As I left on my own,
as Faith pushed me out the door

No Faith does not live here anymore,
in something in which I adored

The Lost: A Fall From Grace

Can the lost ever be found?
A lost Faith? A lost self?
Can Faith call back when buried beneath?
Lost among such tragedy

Do I dare listen?, Be called to believe?
Shall I resurrect it from the depths in which it fell?
Shall I begin to rejoice?, Have Faith?
Though the heart is heavy

Still cursing what was taken, and to what was lost
And I did not forget who took and left me lost
That curse is for one alone,
and the pieces took shall be my own

Such a silly game; this back and forth
I want so much to return, but too lost to be found
Grief keeping it at bay
Fumbling around lost within the boundaries I keep

It's hard to find things buried so well
With all the death and grief that was felt
Such a silly game to play
Faith does not play it well

It tears me apart; this back and forth
Faith smiles down upon
Expecting me to believe, reciprocate
But I have other plans, beliefs
When Faith knocks I do not hear, nor answer, or believe

Am I lost in what it calls Faith?
No I tear down the walls and find my own way
Do you hear me Faith?
No I think not

I am lost in what is called Faith,
and to what I believe
No Faith does not play well,
and what I gain shall be lost

Shall I surrender now?
Lost something to believe
A lost Faith, a lost self
And I mourn for so little
I do not want to bear this game,
I do not play it well

Please release me from this game
I promise to believe, even if just a whisper of disbelief
I deserve that of a thought
I shall take this and what is mine
and bring to dust what lays in the mud
Being left out would bring hope to doubt

Faith does not live within these walls
A fine line to bear the cross, to see a light lost
And I do not feel your presence to my forgiveness;
to be ok with such resistance
and not the presences of my existence

Please release me, let me go
Let me fall to the depths where I lost your grace
Buried with sleight of hand, and little faith
It’s ok, you did not save so I expect the same
The lost have nothing to lose, or gain
Please whisper me away

Faith Silenced

Faith did you speak?
I thought I heard a word?
Did you whisper things within my walls?
Did you speak things that once were mine?

Whispering things once adore and sought so true,
but wait…
If I come back to believe like once before
Will there always be doubt lingering where it never lingered before?

Faith did you speak?
Did you say something true?
Because I am afraid of finding something not so true
My house is not where it was once before

Please speak to what I am afraid For
Faith does not live here anymore
To rely on Faith would be a lie
Please speak I will wait and be complicit

Please do not let me lie on neither a side
Tell me anything, truth or lie
I'm listening, whispering
No I do not want to play, anymore

Even if I win there’s no surrender nor gain
Please release me from this game
I do not play it well
It's ok, you did not save so I expect the same

Faith did you speak?
Did you whisper tragedy?
Where once it did not lie
Taking life as if it were free, with one, with so many

I will never forget, and to forgiveness…
Well I guess that will have to be earned
No more prayers sent that once whispered your name,
sweetness does not come from an iron reign

Knowing that tragedy is not for me alone,
and when I hear of just one more
Faith is sealed and belief no more
One more nail in the coffin where Faith resides
Such a fragile nature, such a bitter lie

Faith did you speak?
No I do not think so
Because silence still spreads where once you spoke
Please release me, let me go

To mourn to which once was mine
No Faith does not live within this soul
Now broken to live within the mind,
and I cannot reach for something not felt whole

Please do not speak Faith
It's too heavy now, just let it lie
My whispers contain disbelief
And your whispers are not to be believed

Let the silence spread through every crack and break
Faith is too heavy now,
I cannot bear it’s weight,
and you wanting it that way

I do not want to play this game
I cannot win with a want of it that way
But I can release myself and seal my own faith,
bitter words already claiming the space

Still you are but a whisper away
And my beliefs are still a right,
as Faith still lies beneath my feet
“Damn it God you cannot win if I do not play!”

Yes you know my heart!
But you keep silent as I walk away
I shall release myself, no whispers remain
I mourn the loss to nothing gained

I'm free would you say?
Wait…
Faith did you speak?
Did you say my name?

Faith Speaks

Faith speaks, whispers, and leaves
Holding to a standard that cannot be achieved
Did I enter to believe?
Or was I pushed out to receive?

I’m I still inside?
Or did I break down the walls that held it inside?
I’m I lost?
Or is Faith lost?

Only Faith knows for sure
But Faith is too weak, I cannot believe
I do not know how to make it well
I do not know how to heel from disbelief

I do not know where Faith lies
I do not know if it will live or die
Please make you better,
please find me

Making to believe to receive a gift
Truly a selfish game we play
I can’t tell if I win or lose,
I do not play it well

I do not want to be free
Wait…
Faith did you speak?
Did I call your name?

A Tragic Faith

Am I worth saving? When so many lost, And if I am, why are not the rest? And in pain, why did you not save? And enlight, why do you show me the same?

Again I will ask, Am I worth saving? when so many lost, Maybe they have out played, and in lost much, more

A question in faith, Maybe just a thought, A burial? Last rites not laid? But I laid; buried you in a self-made coffin, to hide a life worth saving,

Maybe not dead? But still I buried; you did not flinch, or speak to be released, You did not whisper… Where to find you Where I buried you Where you hide Where I let you lie, And now, I expect you to find me, No please do not speak, I will live with that

Mourning, something taught, and something learned, Something, you cannot take back

I feel peace to my own, Indecisions made, But it is not the kind for need, I am in mourning, and acceptance believed. Please do not speak; I will not call your name You did not save, so I expect the same

I will put you done, So easy to take your light; from one who bears truth, but not belief

No, I am not worth saving, Especially with the words I write, They are not filled with anger, anymore, Just loss, and mourning, For something so precious, in which I believed

So now, am I worth saving? Something to speak? Something to be laid? Without breath or deed, No I will not call your name, No one can win, if we both don't play

I am in mourning,
And do not bear to hear, It’s only me; that’s been all this way, But silence speaks, Silence is something that bears a right, I cannot hear so many words

Damn it! I’m pulled back in! I’m playing now, aren’t I? What a cruel game you play,
Feeling now it is easier to sleep, than stay awake

I think I will end this game, and keep silence What will come, will come, What does not, will not, I can live with that…

No I don’t want to play this game, anymore The silence you speak, and the whispers you take; forge a place, that bears a Hell, Yes faith, you play too well

My Struggle, My Truth, My Beloved,

I found what was lost, and now it’s mine,   So long a journey, such a lacks in time, And all I had to do, was say your name Too easy to say it was not? I did cry out, with truth and pain; with an abundance of wrath to precede your name, Beloved to anyone but me, and all I had to do… was release A thought heard, and believed 

Though I am weak, and silence I keep,  Missing the whispers; the back and forth You speak, I believe Yet there is a silence, and a why Why you give such sorrow? To those who are weak, believe There is no win, to what I understand, Why there must be heartache in Faith, I believe there is a blind spot , I guess in death I will see

Again, why do you give such sorrow? To believers, that do not waver, And in a waver, a believer, Yet in your light, there is truth But then, what of darkness? Because darkness is truth, Darkness makes reality, Feels the pain, precedes the change

Can one not feel the light before the dark? Leading both to a truth? And in one, they are a whole? So there it is, An answer in question! But that does that ease the pain, or fulfill the why

The why in which you do such things, Terrible, Tragic things, As if to welcome it, I do not, And to forgive it? As if you were live it, Yet you comfort; push the fallen to the brink, But not too far…to fall, Or too far…to stray

Thinking it can’t get much worse, But knowing it can… it could…and will Hoping not to stray to the end, Life is hopeless, When leaving Faith to dangle near the edge; where heartache and comfort live, Torturing how they are paired together, forever linked, Beyond a shadow to give to hope, Two of a kind, neither one can be spared

Please do not stray again, At least of all, to the end; where calls cannot be heard, And in promise, I will not stray too far, again, At least of all, to the end; where calls cannot receive your word

Yet, what if to go into darkness, with truth and pain, And not let lie to precede change, Darkness not guiding within the light, What then? To be damned? Choosing to enter the light, without the call of ones name

Yet darkness lingers so long, To enter the light; to throw to wind the cost, A believer to your call, because darkness leads the light, But then to leave a stain of darkness behind… Is that ok? Does it make it right? To enter the light without the call of ones name? Leaving darkness behind for others to bear, because I forsake… No, I do not think that is right

Again why do you give such sorrow? To believers that do not waver, And in a waver, a believer, I guess it does not matter, either or, It does not matter, We are all doomed, side by side No matter what side you lie, In all it is a whole, And I cannot climb out of something, so perfectly put together, as faith, It is true to form. So I enter, I stay, I believe, and you comfort

A Faith Changed: A Second Fall From Grace

They say it is the truth,
”I am renewed” “I am saved” Is that what they say? Is that My Faith?
To speak to Faith or to listen?
For me, I think a whisper, but it is not religion

I cannot hear what you preach,
Faith is still something I seek, live and hate. Don’t be surprised to linger too late, You will lose your faith; at least question why,
Faith may not be what you thought so true, Maybe it is not light or dark, maybe just is, not something to seek, Does that make truth obsolete? Maybe malleable at least

No I do not hear something new,
It is old, and nameless to the game,
Don’t be afraid to play, your already in,
Do not worry, you will not win,
Listen to your whispers, your truth, your Faith,
It’s calling, go ahead,
walk blindly into faith

Go play the game, live within Faiths walls, Faith comforts, and whispers And to all you disbelievers, We are all marked, And the lash of the fall will not save grace, Grace that lives within the shadows, will mark the fall, So heed the call. And when faith comes calling with those sweet whispers,
you will listen when you fall

But will you live the truth when Faith does not call?
Will you go and live within Faiths walls?
It is safe there;
truth does not live there, only faith, Though you may not enter when you fall; when life brazen and time taken,
For faith lives, it breathes, it calls,
It leaves, it whispers disbelief and malice calls, And to all you believers,
We are all marked,
And whispers will not pass, when it’s time to reap the fall, And grace that steps out of the shadows, will not bow to your call Take heed from someone who knows,
When faith comes calling with those sweet whispers,
you may not listen when you fall

The Burden

Oh these words I write, Still, so much anger and disbelief,
Whispers are not mine to take,
I will leave it for another day,
I know you are there, I have faith, And the whispers I can hear,
But I will not listen today,
Go find another, there are many to take

I will wait… Anger still lives, and fuels such hate,
Forgive me Faith, but you are weak,
And I do not care… What will wither, comfort, What will awaken, whisper,
Faith is a burden, I cannot awake

So sleep, whisper no more, For me a brief sigh, A welcome of hope, But I cannot lock such a burden of a door, The key of forgiveness, is not redemption, So I will come back, play this faithless game, with a key for indifference

Begging for a choice, when believing in Faith, And you, wanting it that way,
Such a selfish game we play, The whispers of Faith, are hard to hold on too, When knowledge is forced to play, And the heart hangs on, only not to break, and my soul start to whiter

But soon I will awake, and you will be Like Winter into Spring, And raptures that bare no seed,
But I will not know to listen,
Wake me when faith is Strong, and with Absolution,
When only screams to be heard, no whispers remain,
But for now…whispers are mine, and to this I hate

My burden is to be bore; To be toiled, and not spared,
So please go Faith, whisper no more,
I want to go back to slumber,
So lay me down, and I promise to keep,
And someday scream, to one who carries no name,
Screams that someday, maybe believed,
So for now, I will live within faith’s walls,
if only not to break

Forgive me Faith, but you are weak,
And I have no place, If you do not give me grace, So please stay, Even if only whispers remain, For the faith that was laid, cannot be given away
Please stay, and try to find, which once was yours, Yes, you can do, you are Faith
Yes…you are Faith! Please stay, in all I once adored For this burden is becoming, too hard to hold,
And the truth too painful, to be believed, this truth I know

So for now, I will still whisper faith, Even if it is something, I still hate, Yes… I know Faith, You are not finished, For faith is still a burden, I cannot take

Given

Faith what have you given? It’s left me numb, and painfully unforgiving, The wrath that lies in wait, The breaking point, I have left; just like what you took, I would like to see you through; taking what was lifted, Unsung, with a calmness of water, As I rage for calling on you; stopping the rape of forgiveness Left, imprisoned, with religious just, Comforts a body that has no soul, Remember you took; left me to reign over an empty mess, And I no longer whole, when you set foot, Igniting a bridge, under calm water, Knowing the jump be easy, claiming it Faith, It does not hold water, And I jump in, sinking… as you walk into the water

Ye of Little Faith

Ye of little faith? Ye of no faith? Little would be a lie, But your my lie, Your my Faith, Which side shall I lie on today? Ye of little faith, or Ye of no faith, It does not matter, A lie is a lie, Until discovered…and erased

Waiting For The Storm

Waiting for the storm to arrive; still no clouds within the sky Then darkness rolls pass my view, and I become weary

I am not afraid of the darkness; it has washed over many a time, Retreating, hoping it will not survive, Still waiting for the storm to arrive

I grow weary waiting, Waiting for what it brings, What it will wither, What it will claim, What it will whimper

Will it collapse? Will it bring favor? Will it destroy? And will it call hither? To what I do not seek as shelter

Still waiting for the storm to arrive, I grow weary; still no clouds within the sky

Unsettled

I do not want to talk right now, Please just let me be, Talking just makes me weary; does not place me where I want to be

The storm is coming; I need to save strength, The storm puts me at ease, when I retreat, But will tear me apart, if I dare to venture out

Do not ponder, when I am about to break Let the storm pass, it will make my peace No nothing will come from hanging on, Please go, just let me be Let the storm pass, make peace That breaks the silence, to wash over me, No nothing will come from hanging on

But I don't think the storm will pass, Lingering clouds, will not save my fall from grace, And no peace shall awaken me, No I don’t want to talk right now, Please just let me be

The storm is coming, I need to make way, The clouds will not pass, such a messy array I need to prepare… For the storm that is; the one that shall be, Waiting for me In spite of me, No nothing will come from hanging on, Please go…just let me be

On A Beautiful Sunday Afternoon

Do not worry about the storms, Or things that maybe laid upon the path, If death comes for you, or for others, Upon the “what ifs”, that lay within

When the weather is bad; life brings them far away, wish them safe travels, Even if that is not to be believed, Believe today that they will be safe, And will come home to you, and me

For the weather is good! The storms have passed! But remember…
Anything can happen, Even on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, now I have to live with that

2018-2019

POEMS OF AFTER (Working on/Editing)

Bottom (corresponding painting ‘24)

There is no bottom, I know that to be, for I keep falling
There is not enough sorrow, to rebuild me,
Put back the pieces;
it is a lifetime away
To be dropped, buried,
It’s hard to be here… hard to believe…
My sorrow is too great, I feel no release
I’m falling again,
I do not want to break, too late I’m falling again, The bottom is mine; to no depth or ground,
But I want to break it; release it to the ground, too late
Falling again,
There is no bottom; not one I can break Truth continues…no faith No relief, no break,
And to own this, live this, to try and break this,
No, my sorrow is too great;
to live is not an escape For there is no bottom, to be believed
And for you to see that, Live that, own that,
you can not see that
To even consider,
means there’s nothing to break
A cycle of grief, without faith And I am to know this, because I’m falling, fallen
There is no bottom, there’s nothing to break,
but me

Own It

Can you feel that?
You cannot,
It’s my grief,
I own it Live it Feel it,
it swallows me up
Supposed to be complaisant,
not let it take over
But you cannot feel it,
you do not live it Own it,
They say actions help grief;
staying busy to not feel it,
But to not truly feel,
only postpones it,
So I fan the flames,
I am not ashamed
I just want to be free

Forgive Me (corresponding painting ‘24)

Slammed to the ground; unleashing an Anger that knows no bounds. The anguish and turmoil that await, I cannot foresee, it hides me, The distance between me; far out way my decisions and plea, No, I do not know me as of now My soul is covered with suffering, ash and soot; it releases a scent, that reaches for wrath; a stench of death and a want of forgiveness I have come to a crossroads, where both paths want my soul for pennies, not to be found,   So easily tossed away, Lost among such tragedy, For a payment way past due And I wonder why My soul is worth so little Releasing hate just because I cannot foresee Past the foresight of the living Forgive me I will release what I know you will hate It’s me And I shamefully defend the dead And their remembrance and release At the cost of the living Please do not forsake the dead and me It’s your forgiveness I want And my hate you can take But I do not foresee that window In all it is one It’s your wrath I can not take For you see I feel the same It’s my wrath that lays in wait An anger that cannot be reigned So I defend my decisions and plea And I have damned myself And I remember I remember being slammed to the ground Unleashing an anger that knows no bounds, forgive me

Forgive Me: On a Lighter Note (corresponding painting ‘24)

I’m sorry I killed the umbrella It needed to die It was just a façade It does not cover, protect, or lean away I’m sorry I killed the umbrella It needed to die Forgiveness is granted, released Do not worry, there are many to take Over there beneath the mirror That shows me where I’ve been And where I will head They lie there waiting to be released Please take one There are so many to bear We will need many on the journeys we take So take one And be on your way I will forgive you And you released Don’t worry The umbrella is such a facade It warrants hate It does not protect, cover or save So please take one And be on your way I have so many you see Burying them all eventually Killing them off one by one When God comes calling I have to be ready Even if a facade It’s better than the truth To the warning that umbrellas do not save And I cannot stop it’s reign So to the umbrella and all it represents It is but a lie So I killed it And went on my way Farewell umbrella I never liked you anyway

A Quite Sadness

A quite sadness
I have left the room
Still standing still, all around
The talk is deafening
Can you see me? From where you stand?
No I have left A pause, a quite sadness
Baring no resemblance
Of who I am The pause, the quite The between spaces that claim my spot
I have left Still standing still A quite sadness Replacing the dark thoughts That stretch the mind and compliment mine I have left the room Still standing still

Rotting

I am rotting Termites eat away I am rotting where little remains My house is in despair Can you help me? Rebuild? I am not a carpenter Or an exterminator of thoughts Please help Maybe do it yourself I have paid enough Rotting from within Not over despair Yet you sit on the side lines and watch Rots me to the core Little remains, sawdust To rebuild a house that I let rot Buried in dust That is only lifted away By silence, a pause, a selfish break How many times do I need to shiver? To get it off What will it take? To get you off the sidelines? Rebuild? Help? No, I think not I will burn it down Join you on the sidelines and watch

The Aftermath

Do I need to say it?
You are not on my radar The bombs They keep coming And I can’t stop digging Only where I am is realized The shithole, the aftermath Did you say you would visit Sought out Pretend to try, and see It would be hard for me Under all this shit, the aftermath I glow with it But who to blame? Who to blame?
Blame the dead?
Blame God?
Blame myself? For making my bed to things that react Dealing with the dead, the aftermath
No survivors Yet I keep digging Two years gone by Still aware, not realized The damage done, left behind But who to blame to the consequence? Am I blind? Who to blame for such a shithole?
To pain that has been dug
And to arise from the whole
Leaving behind more then I can toll I cannot dig as fast
How to let pass Rewind To the ones dropped, left behind And to the ones that keep coming
A silent numbness
Lack of compassion, forgiveness
In all a whole That cannot bear the climb The bombs they keep coming
Can’t breath or acknowledge Your presence or mine
Numbness spills over
The closer you get to my radar
Better left to digging
Still working on the shithole, the aftermath
What I have imposed on others and lack of mine
The aftermath deems me whole
To climb out To live
None worth doing Acknowledging your presence, or mine You are not on my radar, nor I The bombs keep coming Acknowledged and realized The aftermath, the shithole Things left behind What I had to do to survive Keeping me alive In wake of aftermath left behind A hole of shit I created to keep me safe A place where I could break Forgiveness would be too kind Maybe not given Either way I’m buried To the remembrance of the wrath That crashed to earth No warning What faced in time What did I expect to such a wake? Peace? Reconcile? At the cost of the living? Forgiveness too kind
But to forgiveness given, no turning back
Leaving now
Back to the shithole, the aftermath
To what left behind What did I expect in such a wake? What did I expect! No turning back
Leaving now, left

Settling In

Settling in
Raising Hell for all it’s warmth
A penny for whispers
Lost, locked up
Released from life
A beckoning light
That cast shadows of wrath
When once spared
Now drawn in the mix
Thought I had out played
But how wrong
I sit now
Settling in
The afterglow
Bleeding from every pore
Returning to the light That has no warmth
Coddle me, adore me
Let me feel the light
The warmth
Feel nothing
Settling in
It is what has become
Take back this thorn
Let me rewind
No Settling in
No turning back Thorns make wounds That scream of silence
Wake me before it begins
Settling in to the aftermath
Unsettled does not seem to mind, or fear
Settling in
To a Hell without warmth
A cold calm That speaks of peace As long as life lets me be,
settling in

My Mess

A want of death On stand by Watching I hate what I become
Death signals, I won’t reply
Do you see? What you have done? What you made I hate what I become A want of death On stand by Watching Waiting Death signals, I won’t reply Let it be known I have not forgiven you

Falling Apart

Falling apart
Can’t you see the pieces?
They are all around
Please pick them up
I don’t know how To make them fit
Into such an empty space I have shattered And in lost, the pieces There are so many Can you help me? Find Pick them up Can you make them fit? Even after the fact, when nothing is left

Washed Away

You have washed your hands, of flowers and smelling salts
What you wash off I pretend it’s not an assault
The ware The tear I am not a child You see me now I see you bleeding from every pore Your done with forever Forever has done me in Crumbling from your hands Bleeding from every pore Your cry for help Like quick sand No waste on flowers That need smelling salts You have washed your hands As I sink back into the mud Life is too short From where you stand I want to bend But you have washed your hands Too late Left bare Washed away, without a prayer You are free from years and years And I lay within the mud From the spigot from which you washed Washing away flowers and smelling salts And I still pretend, it’s not an assault

The Veil

The Veil So pretty to touch
What secrets await
To go behind
Discovery Disarray
Trapped
Behind fabric
Barley breathing
Hides the imperfection
The inequality
What role you played
The collateral damage, left behind in your wake
Truth so lightly embedded, into fabric That can be torn apart
My veil Your self-worth
How thick from worn
Can I breath?
Can I be torn apart?
Collateral damage wages inside
To come out or to hide
Either way
The veil.. Slightly penetrable Slightly safe
It hides the hurt
My veil Myself-worth

Hurt

You took me out today
Played with me
For awhile
Then put me back
Other prospects Things to do Hide away Swiping my hand Briefly Without a word Lovingly
The tell tail sign
Of loss
I’m losing,
it hurts

Turn Me On

Turn me on I have been off For so long Put light into this room Brighten the dark spot To feel the living Put back the pain Brighten the spot Light can be blighting When off for too long Please turn it on gently And do it with grace But do not waver Please turn me on Brighten this quite spot

Vulnerable

I’m letting go Vulnerable to you I’m letting you go Vulnerable to one last dance Then never Remains To so many years Can only remember Sweetness I’m letting go Vulnerable to see the truth I’m letting you go Vulnerable no more Maybe To once again,
vulnerable

The Ditch

Returning to my roots
Where absence lingers
No reason to hide
Except to linger Within the dirt
Pacing back around the corner
Feet thick in mud
An indifference to digging
Even if it means death And things not sought
The ditch will survive
I will make sure of that
So little left to justify
Maybe just one more lie Body thick in mud Covering up Least likely to be noticed Back around the corner Drenched in mud, again

Damaged Goods

Damaged goods rest upon my name To justify what was lost and what was gained Damaged goods is what is left Destroy me Leaving me in the mud Running me through it Like liquor that can’t hold a buzz Damage sought to what was hidden The rot of my name does destroy truth, and lie Living proof that what has been damaged cannot be misplaced and awaken by no mistake Too hasty to replace damage that lies in wait Don’t try to cover what was left in place To hide the mud under your shoe Only cements my name Damaged goods cannot be sought whole Without leaving a mark to cradle and hold Living proof that damaged goods can be disgraced and awaken to lie upon your plate Rotting and lifting you away Your damaged goods made a place And my damaged goods lay in wait To mistake damaged goods for gold was my mistake I shall seek a halo A halo to rot Rot that shall be washed away Damaged goods left where little remains Until the mud is carried away Washing away until nothing remains And damage goods is what is claimed Left underfoot, as I walk away

Stay Alive

Sometimes it’s so hard to stay alive To sit and ponder what does not please To sow so much That pleasure does give way To what owned What believed To stay alive a breaking point Not to deceive what does play me My intentions, laughter thrown my way No point in giving when already received And knowing what I do and say Not truly meant to be believed But what to be believed is where I settle And to believe a detour for balance And to fight a fight Dose not seem worthy Even when right Sometimes it’s hard to stay alive

Color (corresponding painting ‘24)

I hate color It does nothing but blind To see past such a burden and to weep only words Something given without thought To kill another umbrella Does make uncomfortability But fills the void that was left When taking something lost Not yours, but mine And again to be beaten To see the umbrella a friend No color is not to be taken lightly I should have known before I began But to hate does bring tears Maybe something left to waste No I cannot see past the umbrella I don’t want to waste the color And see past such a burden So I will take what is left Show it from verse to verse Yes color does take a spot to be rehearsed So maybe next time I will find what was lost Not mine, but yours

Destroy

I want what is left Harvest the field Because I know no yield to what is left I have come to destroy The faithful that yield no rest Leave me where I lie Don’t worry I will destroy what is left No yield I have come to destroy And rape the field No worry It’s my field To bear another harvest To destroy what I feel

Pull Back The Pin

I have to stay alive Pull back the pin Sweetness coils Does not let me begin To breath To stay alive I’m sinking Mud claims what I give it I’m giving everything Please pull back the pin Please stay alive Help to begin What was forced To pull back the pin

Not A Savior

Raptures wash over, And I deny nothing
Not fighting for once, Which once was mine
Cries are heard, But not worshiped or spared,
Now Damned
A case was made, and laid at my feet
Making a choice, a cry, a Scream!
Reasoning that nothing can get trampled
When thought nothing to once was,
Not a Savior but a God
The judgement continues down the path Heard screaming, cries fallen underfoot,
But screams move forward “Don’t look back”
To strong now, the noose too tight Not to be spared, what I put in place
My cries bear my name As screams fight and deny nothing
Cries trampled under foot
Thrown at my feet, and laid to bear a path And forward screams keep coming, “Don’t look back”
And I taking my place with the screams Damn me! Damn me!
For once I cried look back,
but now trampling underfoot,
Bearing my name, by choices that have a place
Remembering not to waste what lies beneath, still lives
But to let die Who to do such a thing?
Not a Savior but a God
Fallen, trampled underfoot. And cries soon heard again
“Look back, lift off the path”
But forward screams keep coming
Keep running, “Don’t look back”
No need to stop to leave marks not seen
When only wanting to be heard
Cries trampled underfoot
And whimpering cries look back
But last a forward charge is heard
“Cries buried underfoot!” “Cries buried underfoot!”
“Damn me!” “Damn me!” Cries buried underfoot with one last forward charge, a SCREAM!
No mercy for cries buried underfoot
Mercy has no name, except by choice
Dame me, I did not save what fell at my feet
Letting the raptures wash over me
I did not cry mercy, and I showed none Not to be lifted, but impaled To let the blood spill Who to do such a thing?
Not a Savior, not a savior

Bones

What is left is not pretty Hands that bear life that is gritty Hands do show what is left A beginning with an end I shall know my father’s thoughts And my mother’s hands So true to bear the bones I am to be left with hands That know life with no pity Can you see them? Do you know them? Do you bear them? I want to know How gritty your hands have grown I want to feel the warmth And know what is left To feel what is known and kept

Ugly

To bear something ugly To rip it off, expose Seeping into ugly Something given To enter quietly What has been exposed Now given off To notice the ugly upon my skin Exposing quietly What is left To reap wounds To expose ugly Drawing out Only brought to light By something ugly Given off Bit by bit Cleanse my wounds Drawing out ugly, and making peace with it

Bitterness (corresponding painting ‘24)

Bitterness Curled up tight Barely moving Barely breathing Skin shedding No longer thick, protected Vulnerable Wanting For a taste of sweetness and grace Where bitterness lies and fears the taste Curled up tight Falling back on myself And nothing to catch the soul Building a camouflage So not to see The wanting of a taste But bitter the wound Bitter the taste Curled back up again Currying my skin Tasting Wanting Waiting A bitter taste Sweetness does lay in wait Disguised Uncoiling

Cut Throat

Let the games begin I have no time to waste The blade grows sharper day by day And the halo sways Let’s give way For time dulls the senses and tries to forgive Side to side Back and forth No cut can be made Without relaxing the thoughts and sharpening the blade Ruthless thoughts Manufactured through careless deeds Forced to play Where once was two now three Sleight of hand Nothing spoken can come to be When in possession of such a merciless thing Shall we play? I’m ready And the halo sways

Bite Your Tongue

Bite your tongue To save grace How thoughtful What does lie shall awake To feel grace Where bitterness tries to replace Careful where you hide your grace In the tall green grass Bite your tongue To save distant grace But bitten twice feels no pain Walking in green grass Secret shame Embracing the tongue that feels disgraced Feeling the grass and the hills that grow And I buried beneath Hidden Forbidden to taste Which once was yours So bite your tongue And be tender to a soul That walks through grass never greener Then beyond the view

Silence

Can’t breathe a word Can’t breathe at all Screams want to erupt But put me a risk From one who used to walk This narrow path Now I, a villain in silence To be quietly hushed And have to contend With all which sinks into the mud Buried on a path From which I breathe Without breathing a word Breathing it all in To enlighten a fire Not to warm what lays within But to which I hide quiet I know this silence is a gift But it stings of bitterness That lays within a soul Who wants to scream But keeps silence as a gift What a travesty to breathe in Hoping you won’t believe Hoping you won’t seek, and I not to wonder But I believe it is to late Silence wraps around Seeks a soul That buries beneath Thinking it will all end And silence taking it’s place Do you hear it? Do you hear what I breathe in? Tell me you do not Because I want to scream I want to Scream! What was taken and made mine Please tell me you do not hear it Relieve me of this gift It does not have a place Take this gift which seeks no end
Please, take this gift that seeks no end It does not have a place Silence Silence, silence

Engraved

In the back Carved away A sorry To a moment of weakness Somethings sway Into the wood Happiness, regret A simple gesture Tore my soul apart Sorry to a carve Embraced in wood My heart was soiled Yet I bear no repent But some given To a sketch I tried to erase For you, for me Still bear the scars From embracing a moment A moment of weakness and little regret Some scars are meant, felt and kept

Before Your Eyes

Before your eyes Did not see it In the chaos of life A simple form of color Laid by my side But did not see it Did not see the beauty Born from pain The insignificant Hidden Laid for all to see Before your eyes Painted blue No beauty sought from pain Sorrow overlooked Casted away In all it’s glory Before your eyes In front of you Beside me Melting between Catching a glimpse Of what was thrown away Before your eyes Something to suffer For beauty not seen from pain With a slight sigh A fortune lost In plain sight A view unseen Until life came Sought the hidden Through my eyes Before your eyes Living with the view Laying beside Yours has gone away Right before my eyes

Murderer

Dig deep within With nothing left Yet managed to pull it off Deep in the crawl spaces Felt a need to hide The deed of redemption Within the jowls of life Came a sweetness of mercy Keeping to self Holding high A decision made Not from love But from the crawl spaces Never cherishing What was willed Just played Left behind Laying in redemption As you run from your crawl space I open up, Murderer

Without

Learning to live without
Flowers and butterflies
Swallowed by mud
Sweet presence of youth Not a candle to be wind blown Yes, I’m learning to live without Beautiful lies that capture the heart Now lay within mud with flowers and butterflies Holding onto whatever keeps me alive Nothing to grasp What lays beside me has died The day carries me over And I see what awakens the soul But to weak to grasp Slips through my fingers Drenched in mud, not sinking but flowing Down to the water, less to grasp Nothing in the water has value When the reach bears too little, too late Flowing, drowning The rocks tear my skin I feel alive again But what lays beside me has died Washed up, beaten and battered and I feel alive again, I pull back Released to the water Living without what lays beside me, has died Flowers and butterflies float on water, released from mud I feel alive again Further from shore Floating down and out Waves now release me of the pressure, to be washed up I am released and living without Waves carry me over Mud no longer grounding me, swallowing me Drifting and collecting water within my lungs Learning to live without, sweetness

Flowers in Dust

Flowers in dust, grown from hate, Wanted and ripped away, from once was Drowning in lack of regard Missing seeds in surrendered water, which once was loved Seeing beauty not in the beholder, but in the presence of once was Now trying to survive in dust, that grew from mud Once ripped away, now sown in dust, which once was Seeing through the dust Past the dirt, in the dust, to once was Now dust in bloom, to once loved

Dust Flowers

Dust blooming into flight, long paths Bloom dust flowers into flight, announcing a pale pink hue And a bottom that starts to ground, the dust Dust flowers to bloom another walk, along a path that grew from mud, to dust, to be awaken The colors lay heavy in darkness, that the light could not find… until the dust tumbled into sight And pink and green hues emerge; a hard core of a tumble, turning dirt into mud, mud into dust, into bloom No easy task I would say, with distance Water cleanses dust, and gives way to mud, only to get stuck…when trying to bloom And dust to tumble again, no path sought…or announced Just needing a name… A color, a pink, a green hue; a far look up from yellow And I bloom as she dies, walking together, on a path that blooms, and dust to tumble

In Full Bloom

I want to keep this sadness It blooms over everything, keeping me alive Washing over the page, the canvas Self numbing makes a poor picture of life; where sadness cannot penetrate armor Numbing that lays outside my soul…no I wish me back again, and sadness blooms

Thee

A whisper of a rhyme Breathing in fresh air Burying the dirt With a sent of flowers Lingering in the air Buried inside the gates Upon one beloved Not leaving jealousy behind Given to a whisper of a rhyme To give to another Which rhymes with thee A buoyancy moment Hopes heightened Only to whisper not thee But to set rhythm in motion Bringing tarragon To refresh the air for a jealous moment Only to rhyme with thee Wondering how many times My name was said and buried beneath A riddle of perceived chivalry To a name not said To a name whispered To a name dead Whispers only to be heard That rhyme with thee Set a riddle in motion To lay whispers within Digging up the dirt and emptying it Whispers that called not thee But to whispers that once laid with the living Now lay with the dead Whispers that rhyme with thee Riddles to rhyme No need to cover up A fragrance of a whisper Should not be spared Leaving jealousy to find a home I have no strength left to call it anything but To rhyme with what broke a life To a life that whispers not thee But to rhymes buried in dirt That shall be dug up And I’ll be Damned to walk a whisper That does not carry my name But what rhymes with a riddle Fairer to a whisper not meant for me But for jealousy to whisper not thee In a moment In a buoyant moment Lifting a lie away with whispers That do rhyme with thee And the truth to lie In a buoyant moment That I gave it, but not to thee But to a whisper I heard A riddle that rhymes with thee

My Dues

Something to reflect Something to remember Something to forgive Something to forget A past page Paper Not need to be worn Deeming them whole and walking away

The Wind

The wind has no voice Silence Only through resistance and protest Do the trees speak Wind keeps silence as a gift The wind gives voices to many A beautiful rapture A howling chill But she herself is silence Only things within her way break their silence But still the quiet No voice is given without resistance No matter how quiet she comes We all give way Resistance for such destruction That comes without a voice and the silence Careful and respectful to such a force That does give voice and destroys in silence I fear the most Yet she hales me forward Places to destroy without a voice I shall keep her silence, put her in my pocket When things need voices from resistance I shall take her out for beautiful howling destruction Only for her to override And destroy me in the process I shall respect the silence and give minimum resistance Keeping safe But my fear will heighten the resistance Destroy the silence Shhhh, I will put her back in my pocket

Beautifully Ugly

See them shine Against my body Elongating every part As if they knew beauty But to know Is to know movement To know a path of waves Draping my body My soul To show what has become To what the wind thought to forgive They are beautifully ugly To my soul To what left of humility Tell me Do you have them?

To The Harvester

Seeds planted Set into motion To what I dare not whisper Planted in secret seeds Secret whispers To maim the Harvester Never wanting what sowed I will not reap But will bear the seeds And leave the rest To the Harvester To bear the reap From someone other than me A cruel whisper indeed Trying to keep my soul Going astray With one sweet whisper It is cruel indeed But my soul left, traveled past To roam smaller fields Less to maintain Only to return When whispers grown Ready to be harvested and set free Then to reap what was sown It was a whisper of a seed Never meant for me But will return To take pieces left I shall claim no reward or harvest But I did not stray from the truth When planting whispers in seeds But intentions laid Planted Giving to the Harvester Taking pieces of me What a cruel whisper indeed What a cruel whisper indeed

Monster

I have failed Something beautiful Something alive Brought to it’s knees What kind of Monster am I Fueled With what comes deep and incomplete Called out Deemed Monster Rightfully so Given only pieces To right a wrong Something made way past when and whole Feeling the work Of what was done A Monster to drag down So beautiful and whole Made from pieces What a Monster to become and set free To deem a light that has failed Living with a Monster What has become Beauty spreading from pieces Trying to make whole And a Monster to be made Of me Puts me on my knees A Monster mirrored Pieces of me Fell outside And I tried to put back Making something beautiful And a Monster for not believing In beauty Outside the soul

Unhinged

Never leave the door open Passion seeps in Carves a path Into discomfort and destruction For simple understanding Bewildered crucifixion Lay down resistance To override the brilliance Voices that get no comfort Enlightened Beautiful crucifixion

Have You Heard

The wrath of God Within my hands Trembling Seeking For something To cure, a cause Anointed Wavering Trembling Seeking A path of innocence When all known A path gone Reclaimed? Nothing to save But thoughts The heart maimed A life of one Seek and lay down Delivered Something done Mute turned on Awhile ago As you turned it up Retreated Silenced Turned to mute Yet here I am A sick fantasy Longing for it Shhhh You know the whisper Trembling, reaching,—shhhh It’s resistance, —shhhh Silence, —-shhhh i prefer the wind

“Lovebird”

My love sits above my door Singing Sweet music Pretending that all is hinged Shut tight, put together Leaving all inside With my love above my door Can’t see how anything I would want more My love sitting above my door But I feel the need To unhinge, and see what is left But beauty of a song sits above my door So I linger in my room Watching the ceiling, twirling A blanket clenched in my hand And my love sits above my door Singing As music Roams around my room Clenching the blanket now with both hands As my love sings never more And love drops to the floor Singing surrounds my head, spinning As I flow around my room Coming closer to my love Sitting above my door Then retreating Moving towards What was left slightly opened Both fists clenched Shattering through Leaving my love, sitting Singing above the door

Awaken

I see all abound Awaken to see The trouble and relief Come too late Come too soon Cannot rejoice in being awake To see others and my fate What lies ahead Shall be replaced By nothingness And knowing this, is to be awake

It’s Not High Enough

Not high enough I am The insignificant To what calls pale In comparison To what? Claim the dirt, blood and truth Just not high enough To kill The insignificant Wean away Leave it Weighing it For the significance Will it be enough? Will it be high enough? And the path Narrow enough? Sealed enough? For next time It will be neither here or there Tell me, is it high enough?

Forgive

I Forgive I Forgive I Forgive Intentions laid Laying beneath Unchained And I forgive Motion set free There is no meaning in meant Meant is something for me Laying within To forgive Like a butterfly stuck in mud Freed by death, intentions Released Coming up from beneath her wings Death has no power Freed from mud that binds the soul To forgive is to bring forth Metamorphosis Never meant for you, but for me

Untether

Go ahead Let go Be selfish Feel not what lingers But what bears release Untether From something living, and dead Untether from hope, a wish Untether from what thought, myself Free from silence To bring forth a birth From one too scared to scream Freedom lays not with silence At least not what lays within And to what lays tethered Tell me again and again, and again Let go Untether I don’t want anymore It rips the soul And brings me to a place Not worthy to be claimed Forever Release the tears that tether the soul Feel me from within Can’t be victim, forever Untether

What is this?

What is this? That changes the soul and lets go Coming from beneath Seeking refuge In a soul Where grief relieves What piles and screams That sparks of red paint Caressed and slammed To a canvas that awaits Coming from ash Faith and understanding Release Please tell me What is this? It weeps and seeks Something to lay within a soul And my soul down to weep Then to arise Made whole Graced with presence Coming from beneath Taking grief to a place That gently weeps To calm the soul Relief that has a place That is too often ignored Tell me please What is this? Sought and curled up Only to let go Not held to a path Outside the bounds Of the soul That comes up to relieve An empty space Pease tell me What is this? Because I’m being swallowed Taking my life It breathes heavy and heavenly To what seeks, beneath me Tell me What is this?

Permission

Permission Just a thought None given When fear lingers Sliding behind the back side and wondering why The front is not worthy Maybe permission Gives it too much consideration Wanting permission to seek outside To change Out of the shadows into the light Past the scene that needs permission To give to self But giving too much, too soon May collapse, get messy But that’s what future owns To claim outside the bounds To roam If only given permission To rebel in peace, and change Just a thought Giving permission To a tearful and powerful plight To consider it a downward climb Only holding back, fear But I have no fear It left awhile ago, hiding While I was turned around Thinking of permission So simple Little complexities of life Yet fear hides, wavers When looking for permission Turned around Looking outside the bounds Given to one But not to self Thinking it’s only permission To live outside the bounds To what life brings, now It’s only permission the soul seeks To leave behind To what was, myself

My Skin

My skin To tell you The years and forgiveness That came with withering Attachments and a strangle Renewed with sins And weathered with time And love to feel Every bit of my skin Scars inside Lay upon a weathered mess And scars out Lay upon skin creased and dismissed Needing love More than life forbidden Skin subtle and wanted true Wanted touched Desired without sin Then to look down and see true What does reflect on love And I bury myself, in my skin

Not Held Together

Light as a feather Not held together What you would think… Light as a feather Not held together Pieces drowning Scattered Floating Washing away Shamed in disbelief That I could fall this far apart From pieces that once were me Fading What thought was, now Disillusioned Deception and release Everything to give way When straying away from pieces That once held together What thought pieces of me Laid beneath Falling apart Cannot capture, deny, or destroy Even the insignificant pieces Detached the further I go Yet stuck and feeling the weight When letting go of pieces Shame tangled together, In between Of not wanting to be held together With disbelief and contempt Heavy held together A lie that lives in the presences Of not wanting Pieces that ground the truth And needing to tell you, tell me Send a sign, a signal For there is a loss What you would think… Because this time It will be high enough and not heavy enough Not held together enough Light as a feather To set forth flight Not held together

Enough?

Barrel through Shut the door What’s left? To be ok? Before sitting still? And wondering If it’s enough? Good enough? To see through And comfort the mess And question the truth In sitting still And barreling through To leave the past To where it lays Enough? Strong Enough? To live in the present disguised as truth? When hushed thoughts linger Even if you are, still here— To sit and linger Reaching for ghosts Because tangible truth slips through There is no belief in that But to question truth Enough? To leave behind? And let the future wander To live where you are To be still Enough? Because there is no one else To fill the void To be enough Where the future wanders And presence is passion To be enough and barrel through Blessed and seized, and still To believe in questioning This moment Barrel through

Traitor

A shadow of good deeds Claimed a shadow of a man Therefore whispers are spared A perceived Dr. Jekyll to his Mr. Hyde A strike at truth for bitter honey To be captured and cultivated For dirty sweet whispers That blew this life away To the other side Where faith is not known And belief only comes From whispers, good deeds, and bitter sweet honey A fall, a stumble On layers of good deeds To claim a shadow of a man Protecting and neglecting the fall A shadow of a man A shell of a women Fallen, trampled On good deeds, whispers, and bitter sweet honey That lay thick around the neck Beaten to the floor Where do I go from here? Flowers in dust seem too kind To where I am Trampled under good deeds, dirty whispers and sweet honey Cannot change what whispers gave away What I did not cultivate And now I the Harvester To harvest what grew from hate Shaking off the dirt Only to discover dust Little pieces that linger Caught up and captured In spaces unseen In the crevasses of the floor On the other side Seeping through all my grace Which won’t hold true With bitter honey and sweet whispers Disguised as truth A cruel whisper indeed Laying in the crevasses and corners Deep within the floorboards But corners hold secrets Where anger still lingers Waiting to breakaway To put back from where it came The mud of bitter whispers and sweet honey And all those good deeds To give back to Mr. Hyde A shadow of a man To realize a traitor Amongst good deeds And a shell of a women To realize a traitor To flowers in bloom That grew from dust Dust that need not be swept away or covered up When will I ever learn? To bear whispers and not be captivated What laid me to the floor To my Mr. Hyde and good deeds And to love a flower in bloom Even if dust still lingers In the crevasses of the floor

Devilish Deeds

The Devil comes out to play Now and then To take advantage of guilt Easy prey And the halo looks away Given to sway Just enough to bleed But not to maim Look as victim, disguised Easy prey Deception to give way When quilt lingers And anger hides in corners Camouflaged And halos sway Taking advantage of good deeds Guilt comes in waves Washing over anger Only to give way to sadness That has no place in corners And the floor shakes Little earthquakes Upheaving planks Soon to be burned Places in the soul Leaves a back door Just for hate Incase sadness sways And the Devil not far away To give back to Mr. Hyde It comes in waves Camouflaged A soul to burn bright With bitter rage And I to take a turn Curled up tight No need to come out to play When sadness disguises as rage A sorry to Mr. Hyde To put back in place This soul has fallen The Devil knows it’s place

The Thorn

Born in my side A pretty hole maker To be ok Not releasing beauty from pain In best interest Holes light a path Hurtful and twisted For holes illuminate grace Not dare pull out The soul buried in place Enough to be still Grounding me To be light in dark An embrace From a thorn That lies where a soul is to believe What it made Made whole To be brave To let lie To be still and comforted From a thorn That made me still The spirt knows no bounds, or thorns That need to be replaced, or taken out A life of thorns The hurt, the bind What brought me here To love and believe, a gift That does not come in giving away What made a soul Whole and complete The thorn does not hurt Only if you twist, take out And the soul screams

To Love a Thorn

Yes my soul whispers and screams A lack of spirt or presence? Not knowing the difference To be claimed To let lie Thinking of remembrance The presence of knowing Screamed from within Will not condemn the thorns What made a soul whole Cannot pull out What lies within Buried brightly Holding on Trying to make peace Offerings of love That give meaning To a life of holes Binding a soul to thorns And I to love A beauty of a thorn, made whole

Pull: Fighting

Buried in life; precious things outside the soul, and a brief moment of presence, Seeing my reflection, in a puddle…and fighting, trying to pull it out Never knowing the depths, given to a puddle Until a pull, a tug And swore I would… and I pull

What is old washes over The comfort of her presence, her soul… always true Just needing to surrender, to her forgiveness, for not fighting for her reflection, a long time ago

Buried in mud; what I gave it Protecting a soul, what was given… and I pull She is old to my soul, but new to my world A gentle look around, produces her presence A simple reflection, guiding me home

She comes with peace, and belonging… and I pull She comes with purpose, and reflection… and I pull She comes with grace, and forgiveness… and I pull

Buried deep in the mud, a perceived depth, that collected a long time ago A deception of depth, that only I know I’m fighting for her survival… and I pull

Pull: Dust Settles

When the dust settles, I look around A lift, a remembrance, A true forgiveness? When the dust settles; a calm coming before, and after And I am where I stand, a feeling of who I used to know; and I bring her to the surface

As the dust settles, I look around And forgiveness abound, and I let it go, Releasing the gift, I was given I am alone, until I pull her to the surface I walk a little lighter now, When dust settles, it has a purpose, A remembrance, not to forget Not to put her behind, beneath the surface, where light does not shine, and forgiveness abound

When the dust settles underfoot, No shoes to be had, so dust stays put Not to let her sink to murky waters, And she smiles As I brush the dust off, leaving it underfoot, A little remembrance, to not to forget, The way I went through, and what brought her, to the surface, and I smile

A Fall

Time needed Resting in mud A downward slid Darkness that leads the blind A quite place Familiar but not realized And Hope to lay frozen In remembrance of Hell That brought me near Into the light Blinded, to see Not realizing the colors That laid a path behind me Until a backward fall And the shove forward Given with reverence That only colors give off Leaving behind And I fall back Collecting within my view Needing to forgive Time comes with a gift Setting free Pushing back A downward climb That could not stray, from a fall Revealing What was missing, and given off And colors arise With a whisper of silence Realizing the fall Pain that serves a purpose A fall back to life Beautiful color And a thank you For new windows of color A remembrance of hope Working on a rhyme for forgiveness That came with a push, a fall

The View By The Lake

Do you miss the roaring waters? Do you miss me? The view too close But wanted beyond reach And a melancholy release Do you miss me? By the lake with no view Simple and true Do you miss me?

Open Land

Walking A narrow tree line path Sticks and leaves gather around my feet Roots of trees buckle up Uprooting the path Producing a stumble But not a fall Not a detour Grace is determined To wash over But not wash off Collecting rocks along the way In pockets that save treasures That I have not taken in for days And soon the river calls Laying in front Running blue and slow Murky and green Crossing as if it knew My very soul As I drop rocks Offerings of love Crossing with ease and grace Towards open land But a pause Drenching feet and hands Making waves with human touch Before I set in Needing to calm waters That spill up on land And I relax, retreat For a moment Then look back Knowing nothing left But a breeze Crossing the calm waters That spill up To release the land A gentle flow And I walk further To open land

A Child Is Born

Taking flight And a child is born Lead the way But have nothing paved You look bewildered And I relax See me Show no release And a smile is produced Where has the time gone? When it’s not released And still a smile produced Thinking it’s forced But how I wish it was Then easy the poem But less is beginning To lay within And you look away And a smile produced A soulmate lays within And I drown in it With the glory of time Taking flight And a smile is produced

Casualty

As I drink my courage and make my bed I hear tiny footsteps that roam Nothing too weak to withstand the storm As I move on to linger in the day Pass the flowers and the dead moss Too much sun That brings me closer to the river I know the moss is not dead It lingers on the rocks And the river rages Where the tiny footsteps roam I do not welcome where I place my feet Wishing it was dead Slipping on the rocks Cannot bear the water to where I am Stepping into the water Is not an option now Fallen due to lack of light The body bears the water and pulls the dead under Closer to the water beneath And I awake to see lilies and the smell of dead fish Bearing the thought That I’m still alive In such circumstances And the courage I left When I made my bed I crawl out of the river Which makes my bed unkept But still drowning in circumstances and wondering Who is really dead?

Fatality

She does not call When I am numb She dances Waiting To feel Drowning in choices That do not bring her close And I rummage through the circumstances and courage that made me numb I know she will not leave me Because I have no place to run It’s her resilience and my knowing When to lie down My circumstances and courage To depths perceived unparalleled and run To a dance that brings me home Coming in many colors That I need to take notice and I do And numbness spills over Briefly Untethered So I can feel To break a cycle That hits too close to home I do not want her to dance alone So I put down my circumstances Untether my sleeves And get to work For she comes in many colors and I need to take notice To dance as one, to feel

Making It Out Alive

Making it out alive, but barely Playing, “Cut Throat” A dangerous game Forced to play When two becomes three Played awhile ago But failed to neglect In writing a poem The price that was paid For the fourth is laid under a tree Capturing a ghost to give to thee Saying a prayer and moving away The fourth to let the halo sway inwards And then outwards Maiming hearts that drown in courage now To keep it at bay As I weep Letting the halo sway Giving to you Given to me Pondering a poem what might not have been If a breeze could have never been Captured in whispers Deception in meaning Forcing my hand Letting the halo to sway I cannot save the dead So I say a prayer and move away Given distance to a rhyme Only looking back to realize The last nail in the coffin Given to a riddle of a rhyme And I making it out alive, but barely

Baggage

My life is for sale All over the page I pretend it’s not And try not to tear up What was presented From a book which was once Not written, but spilled Tears linger, and I know a home I feel it’s worth Never loved, but dragged down So I look at the years And try not to look back As I sell another page, a ring and a dress To keep color from tearing up this mess What it’s worth and pending death Looking to another to ask The price, the worth, the years of neglect And always lower than less Than what was lived Letting go Sell life for less Than a life time But sell not my soul A life of poems That rolls by… But not for sale, but for sale And not regretting the thought of selling Baggage that lays me to the floor With a page, a ring, and a dress

Frist Try

I can forgive Forgive what is left For I know the loss is deemed great More than I had But came back, as one There is wonder and knowing In forgiveness Time releases regret Hope that is felt Is still left And not to neglect Love appears lonely at times And unforgiving I am where I am Not trying to see pass The burdensome of circumstances And I too wonder and pray For forgiveness That goes astray, and lashes out Returning to look your way And I feel the pain, in turning away I have my own forgiveness to tally Still looking What gave me away Neglecting the past Because it brings tears Forgiveness is relentless To the first try Always leaving me astray Tying to leave it, just for today

Tradition: Transition

Revelations roll by And I sit Bringing them about, and to life Passed the way of redemption Things work one way But not the other Remembering what was told Never forgotten At least what was viewed and remembered What rolled off mother and father One to find redemption And the other to bask in what was given Passed down and driven Tangled, heartless, true tradition That fell into hands Never questioning what was given And here I sit Only to return what was given Pondering the view with less restrictions Looking passed the stock pile of tradition To see a revelation That does not fit the current situation Yet tattooed to every fiber that runs through Trying to understand the reason But not the lifetime I had to rummage through The revelation of tradition When love is mixed up in beautiful redemption It’s hard to see pass the stock pile And wondering if it fits, holds true Tunnel vision can be a lifetime Something sweet, deemed old Something old, deemed fair I’m drawing in now, sitting Thought that produces What I cannot fathom What does not stick and wrap around Yet I can see pass the stock pile And guilt starts to wonder, just a little Making revelations That make me sit and ponder Revelations far outside the norm And sitting with one less thought That brings me to a place That fathoms pass the stock pile And breaks free, with one thought Maybe this is a gift?

Ode To A Mother

A rock sits As water breaks on fragile shores The rock sooths the break, and absorbs Every fragile, vulnerable angry moment That strikes like the wind And breaks the wake Because it participates and anticipates every move Preparing Protecting the shores But cannot rescue every grain of sand The shore knows no rock That does not save, and bear the wear Of being worn And the shore illuminates beauty Sands not washing away Building of faith and strength And the shore abliveous to every moment And the rock accepts

Worthy

Worthy to stand back and let it roll by Worthy to see the sunrise and fall by wayside Worthy to seek love with attenuation Worthy to be loved when nothing left, to give To have lost without forgiveness To live by your side, and feel disappointment With a brief moment of enlightenment I’m I worthy? To be by a human side, with nothing left To be lost in my willingness to not let go, forgive The question is… I’m I worthy of your love without attenuation? Your hate, deceit, disapproval, and restraint? I’m I worthy to stand by? Worthy of a breach in life? In that I cause And to continue onwards without looking back, for you I’m I worthy of your love, hate, and disapproval? Tell me, are you worthy? Because I still feel everything, and ask I’m I worthy? To a right placed on your presumption, and mine To a love that does not bend To reach out to ask Only because I know where I’ve been The sick feeling of worthlessness holding true Screamed from above and below Only bringing me to you…and you to me Tell me I’m I worthy? Please tell me Because my worthiness does not seek me When letting things roll by, and silence prevails in light Please tell me I’m I worthy?, You and I?

I’m I worthy to your round and destruction? Perceived to be both, as it holds true, and rolls by

The Worth

I had a nice guy, And so I let me go, let things slide…became blind Until my nice guy… became nicer, emptier, and darker To make room for Mr. Hide, coming out to the dark corners… to roam where I reside, and soon darkness was all I had And seeing through the dark, was now the only option And I gathered strength, to become not a Mrs. Hide But a light, that lay in the dark too long So I brush off the thistles And leave Mr. Hide, back in the corners, where darkness seeks Yet a moment came, when the fear of love wants the darkness, of looking back, to bring forth Mrs. Hide So I move on, leaving her with Mr. Hide, and I see further And a light breaks the dark But not forgetting what she broke; a descend backwards will not come with open eyes So I thank Mr. Hide, with a nod to Mrs. Hide And move past what blinded the darkness, and see it, for what it is The worth, that never laid in dark corners… but laid within

The Swan Amongst The Snow Geese

The Swan knows the sky, surveys the land She does not just settle on any pond, or open land, or water with deception No matter how thirsty or tired A Swan is not a snow geese, or dove, to be admired She knows the water, does not need to settle…on empty land She does not have to prove beauty, or ignite the ground She does not have to land…on any open water But when she lands…the water makes way, Because she will not land on water that breaks the light And she will protect what is rightfully hers, and give peace to every snow geese and dove; that bears the flight, and tries to land on open water or land, that does not call the Swan She will not land on open water, that does not make way She knows the call, when one who loves…moves to other waters, not gifted to the Swan, And she weeps, as rough water lays ahead Soon again to take flight, and surveys the land The Swan will not settle on any pond, or open land Even when rough waters lay ahead And she weeps, calming the water…bringing her peace The snow geese and dove take flight…they know the call She settles into the calm, gifted to her, And she feels as one, not needing to be two, and the water makes way

Comes-Hither

Something sweet comes-hither Without a touch of bitterness; that does not taste sweet Bitterness that falls to my feet, and draped behind me Exposing a sweetness; a rise to the surface, and floating on wings not grounded Waiting for the wind to turn, laying in thoughts of sweetness Floating through clear water; my reflection not turning in disgrace Floating in stillness, that calms the water, and brings about the breeze; with thoughts of drying my wings To give flight, and feel the wind that carries gently, And not to be captured again; to what laid in the mud, and sweetness comes-hither

My Prayer

Faith keep me alive, just a little bit longer, To believe, and except an imminent death For just a moment, hour by hour Even the young are not spared, from deception Makes it harder, and somewhat easier, to lay faith upon death If hope could bloom on youth, and faith renewed even with death It would make for a cruel game to play…wouldn’t you say? The Ignorance and acceptance of death…and Faith, a long way down… And I Did Not Forget “MY MESS”, on standby

2018-2024

Poems of Disarray (Working On/Editing)

A Shift In The Wind

Moved away, sunk the door Can’t reopen, past or future Does not like certain, or uncertain, remaining still, harvesting me, Learning to be a prophet to my soul; anything else is past or future, never liking the present Past feelings abound, beautiful poems Future home supposed, and procrastination of hope Present is what is left, Stripped, left open; naked, rebound to repeat. enlightening…me When past becomes too familiar, nothing present Feeling every person, walking every path Presence has a soul, but also a life time A beginning, an end, questioning the thinking, the stillness…purpose and intent, Only to linger too long, forgetting life exists Knowing the path that feeds the soul, and still thinking…selfish Pondering presence, stones are relevant when thrown But the path must be cleared, or cannot see through, lacks presence, And I embrace, become knowledgeable Praised for being enlightened, even though grace was lost In the process of presence, And I at this time, bolting the door

Not A Real Place

This is not a real place, it does not have seeds and growth, does not take place Leaving behind what it calls grace, this not a real place It does not carry what lays on the floor, Picking out colors, as if they mattered Stepping on dirt, and not seeing it’s worth When looking up from the bottom, Faith does not divide, cannot see through Little boxes of division and forgiveness, for it’s worth, That sees something different, and divides the truth This is not a real place, the hole in humanity Little fragments of truth and forgiveness The whole of humanity, little pieces of faith, color and dirt, trying to abide…to a light This is not a real place, Faith does not divide pieces, clinging to disarray Divided pieces that went astray, Dividing the hole in the truth, makes the weak unstainable This is not a real place, not to last long, Picking up pieces, the hole, the stainable Sadness divides in disguise, as if it knew whole Do not look further, then what can hold, a pitcher of truth, That awaits by fire It will burn, and last long Forever would be Hell, a doomed stainable dirty floor, Finding fault in grace, That does not seek what lays on the floor Cannot carry it anyway…anymore This is not a real place…

A Fight For Life

It’s hallow in here Things don’t make sense Everything I left behind, is now floored and laid ahead As if to start again Which is foul, needing to take forth, only to move ahead Which came from behind, reaching this place It is not real Something thought, does not make tangible Laying it all down, only to calm the living There are secrets better off not said, but thrown to the wind They are hallow claims, that fight for the dead, Yet here I am Trying to bring to light, a tangible thought, That does not claim the living, but a fight for the dead Secrets that hold warm thoughts, That could make a tangible death

The Swell

Dead as flowers, that grow in the snow Dead as leaves, that wait for a breeze To be captured to the ground…and swell The wind awaits, coming in disguise As the dead do not want to be known, at least not from my eyes Shores that wait for heavy rain, washing out the dead, in order to reign Distance between the streams, and undertow, Washing away the dead, and waiting… For trees to remove their leaves, without a breeze There is nothing worse, then a possible acknowledgement of being dead Even before the snow and wind, begins it’s heavy reign Believing there is nothing left, In the water, or the breeze, That can calm or awaken the dead, and I to reach out, but not be captured The breeze taken by the wind, The dead knows the scenario, And the living does not weep, or acknowledge Leaves that need a breach, in order to swell As much as the seas need the wind, to bring the dead back, in and out Lifted from the swell, It does not retain value, Floating on wind or water, further and faster So no one can tell, nothing can be noticed… in the swell The dead nor the living, and I am neither

Cracks

Things come to the surface, eventually Water dries up Showing cracks in the mud Not just one, but many Permanently cemented Until the water comes And washes away Reveling nothing that once was Water is murky when mud lays beneath I don’t want to return to the water I know it’s secrets Much mud where soon cracks grow To show the plenty When water decides to reveal What it wants to hide But the drying time circulates Leaving mud, as hard as cement And I trying to tear it up To reveal the ugly truth Fingernails deep in mud, and bloody From tearing up the ugly cracks, mud, and truth But I am the only one who knows What lies beneath the water The only one who saw the years Of dried mud Water that circulates But I am not without fault I didn’t want to see What the dried season brung To tear up my fingernails Living and leaving The blood stained truth But I lived in the water Hoping the water would not evaporate And show the cracks That I knew were pieces of me Letting spread To cement into the mud Everything so true Now I live with my ignorance Worn fingernails, and blood I don’t want to step into the water, again I know where I’ve been

Years

Open your eyes, Don’t like what I see? Not you, but me Reactions to abuse, living life on egg shells Liking the sound, abuse and blame What you reflected on me, and I’m no use Can’t stop the cycle, that is subtle And only covers the raft, that I need to float away Don’t dig any deeper, there’s nothing left Abuse is subtle, when blinders destroy the truth So many years, abuse from whispers… To Dr. Jekyll, to Mr. Hide, the sweet nectar of lies Wondering where all the years went, And the raft drifts deeper out to sea, and I wonder where all the years lie

Fallen

I have fallen, The witching hour approaches As I gain strength… anger that fails to resonate; to ask for help Seeing something beautiful wither to dust and I have fallen Feeling the bruises that reign, through all what is left…not much And wondering if my stillness lead to this… Or lack in joy, or stillness of happiness, I have fallen… and I think I need help

A self of worth, not to ask for more than what was given Help lays upon the back burner, and screams are lost in smoke, but obey my touch Only to look up, an acknowledge of help Knowing all I will be given, Is nothing, not anything I have strayed from my path, given with plenty, longing for more than the view Realizing now, I need help And it distresses me, because I have fallen

Dancing Trees

Trees sway, move to the wind Rhythm letting go of silence, to sooth the soul As all Hell breaks out, the wind breaks free, And Becomes A Storm And trees dance to enlighten, and delight, Pieces fall from the rapture, to the paralyzed ground, that engulfs the mud And I sit outside, basking in the sound

The dance of the trees, believing it to be me, and knowing it is And the mud has no place, at least for now I will spare the leaves, and float on the wind Not spared from the dance… that is mine, and only mine, and I relax To speak like the wind, rustle like the trees, and bring about the dance Time spent going back, is where I am This is the day I picked, over and over again

The wind gives everything, a subtle true voice Trees dance within the wind, to break every windchime, to sooth the soul, or to annoy like Hell, it does not discriminate Taking cover is not an option now, there is too much to be said To give voices to what is a gentle night; to dance freely, not warily, into the night Fills the spaces, and another voice is heard; and the wind is pleased

Trees sway and dance Keeping beat to a rhythm of silence… but how can that be… But a breeze is a storm, Speaking silence and volumes Destroying, if not dancing… only to bend to the wind Be quite and gentle, the breeze says and let the dance begin She destroys as she rebuilds And voices are heard, and I listen

The Pieces

The Puzzle

A Presumption

So many Ophelia’s thrown to dust Stories of hurricanes and heroism, and songs not heard As I slide down to gain strength, Lonely Ophelia is now to be me, and there is only dust, separating you from me And a look to Ophelia…with only a Scream, Lost in the dust…don’t bring haste, to presume to know how it feels When truth and honor falls by wayside, wrapped up in a lie…to give to Ophelia, and life does not live

To be described as Ophelia, and rage against; because truth as a lie becomes exposed Given as a gift with honor and neglect…from me, And wondering where it ends, Given to a forward wave It does not start or end with Ophelia; It was not the gift that destroyed me, but the forward wave That turned the dust to mud, and a reflection of Ophelia in me, presumed dead Life awaits on the other side of the mud, given in deep water A reflection of me, given from Ophelia, soothes the soul, and calms the waves

Stupid Bird

That stupid bird, She did not see what I saw As she fluttered her wings past my muddy water and forgotten soul She did not see what I felt As she swooped by my ears with clean wings and clean heart, as I tried to capture it, and open it’s eyes But it cannot see past my sorrow, and dirty knees and worn hands To hear a flutter of indifference attached to my soul, And she still stood near and did not see what I saw

That lively bird that I made my own, now keeps swooping by to put breath into my soul, but it did not see what I saw But the presence of the feeling, was real enough, for the bird to flutter by again And I thankful, she did not see what I saw, But felt every being of my muddy waters and worn hands, knees The faithful heart of souls that I made my own, Oh that stupid bird, she did not see what I saw

Now gratitude pools around my feet, for worn hands and dirty knees, and flutters that gently grace my face My stupid bird felt it all, claimed the muddy waters and worn hands, knees, with her clean wings, and clean heart, setting me free And I did not look back, to see if the rock, brought her to the muddy waters Where clean heart and wings could not be seen; taking precision to it’s knees, and she set me free Knowing her flight, yet following through And I now run on two feet Towards clean water and clean heart And not to look back, for I know her fate, and she can now see

My lovely stupid bird of mine

Life Hangs In Balance: Death of a Flower 2 (corresponding painting, Grey Series 2025)

I kick the chair away with sadness, disbelief Knowing that all will be forgiven, from the one I walk away She has no future, and a door awaits A door with reflection, relevance, and sweet forgiveness

The shattered past will no long whisper Keeping me heavy, but gives me enough weight, strength To kick the broken chair away As I see myself sway, hanging from the rafters Life in balance…I know I have moved on, and the open door awaits

Roots

I have a home beneath the dirt, only recognizing what I sown, When dirt is cool, but warm to the touch I don’t ask for love, but will give you mine But won’t folly too long I am grounded, and steadfast to impression

Don’t expect me to wonder, I had roots before you came into view Not seeking what does not ground, not looking outside myself Touch is what lingers, and hard to replace I am grounded with roots, that far out way the distance. I have to go

No, following is what leads me astray I will not wonder past the water, because it’s not what I need A touch of a willow will not set you free, only bringing me to my knees And my roots will swallow, every bit of the mud left behind

Don’t look back, Because my roots travel…underground A safe pace to renew, in dirt and water No, I will not follow

(Enlight: Not to follow is dangerous, and changing. If you want to walk on eggs shells, you have to illuminate)

2023-

POEMS OF DISCOMFORT (Working On/Editing)

Choose

You took a life today, without warning
Your pain runs deep within the blood
The blood shed does not lift a lie
To a life that had meaning, to so many
But one life was it’s undoing
We are selfish creatures that hold high a gun,
that does not tell the true story

The pain that is felt by everyone, comes from all of us
We foster the pain
We foster the gun
We foster the lie of our undoing
Shall we hold court?
Burying them one by one
So entangled with everyone

We are creatures that live life without a bottom
Shall we be creatures that take a life
and quietly move forward?
Believing that one life should be enough,
or believing that one life is not enough
We have a choice…

So go take heed, and cast away
But be forewarned
Actions taken… May come without warning

The Forbidden Question

How close do things need to get? Before we see? When that fine line, bears too many regrets And the second right to amend, Balances on the dead

A belief, an awakening That freedom comes always with a debt, and a chain A chain that is far to heavy to carry now To ask the forbidden, enlight of hope I shall step off the line, bear no repent And ask…

“Does freedom need to be chained to a gun?” “And a sinner to ask the forbidden?” I guess we shall see… How long the silence will be

Published Saturday May 1st, 2021

Not Enough

Have we had enough? Had our fill? Rummaging through the dirt Trying to save a voice, a light But future voices silenced today, and present voices silence brings

While others take center stage To calm the breeze, the wind That will break the silence, that future brings To go the distance, there is no end To lay upon a silent path Just voices, and more voices, silenced

Voices buried on a path Where others take center stage, to protect a right That brings tears to surface, and we dig the graves The dirt that paves a path, that gives life to trees Trees that boarder a path, that keeps the silence

And we, bearing lives as trees Trees that weep tears and lay flowers To comfort the silence, and remember the dead Tears that muddy a path…that cannot bear trees Given to mud that washes the dirt But still a breeze needs to be broken, to bring about the wind, that can bring down trees, destroying a path And immortalizing the dead, so not in vain

So look up, then bear the look down Where the innocent lie and make a SCREAM! To end the silence, and bring about the wind Destroying a path That does not deserve the right—Of Silence!

Tears are not enough, tears not enough

(Enlight: The first amendment is stronger than the second, that’s why it’s first)

Published Tuesday May 24th, 2022

The Dead

I watch them tinker with words and lines
I see their faces search for answers,
the answers they have;
they can not speak
They would be dead on arrival
I want to help them, reach for them
Guide them to be free;
from such restraints placed on them
I want to slap them back into life, because I hate what they have become

Do they not know that they are dead?
And to what fate lies ahead?
I would cry out for them, but they cannot hear me
Even in their representation;
they cannot see me
They are dead, and they do not know it

Where they lie their head is compromised Based on stories and principles; that lie in ritual compliance,
and rights that are claimed by the dead
No they do not know they are dead,
and the living hang in the balance
Adhered to the dead, and their resurrection But how can that be?
The rights that were claimed…were claimed by them, to leave it for others…the cause?
But wait… I can see through every word No glorious halo, or pen Buried in unsung truth, and the peril of apathy Coming too close…I am not dead
They are dead! And they do not know it!
Speak, hear…see me?
represent me…I am not dead…

But I can see through me, every bit my apathy, and I need to rise We need to rise Rise up from the dead!
And see what has become
And to Hell with them!
Because soon the living will know,
that they do not know they are dead

The Dragon

On an endless path; where heather gives way and trees fall for grace, linked by love The dragon pulled down, and chained No thought to once was; the beauty of a dragon, to be her own

Who knew that seeds in the womb, could cause such fire, from darkened black holes Holding secrets as truth, and nearby pleasure, In chaining the dragon and demanding the fruit A pawn disguised as truth Dyed in the wool a long time ago, still weighs heavy and true

The keeper will never know the anguish, and deceit Never to be a dragon that falls at thy feet Falling not for duty or love, but from punishing weight Chains that belie black holes; surrounded by heavenly cherubs of faith, as if to know her truth Faceless and nameless Guarding every dark hole Cherubs turn in fright, from a dragon chained, bound to the floor Light cannot escape guarded cherubs of faith

What the keeper gives, to force the dragon to bear fruit It darkens the soul, and blackens the fruit As long as chains remain on talons and snout A fire extinguished from such beautiful light A pawn draped in beauty, but not free From cherubs that guard black holes, and chained feet If only she knew her strength, and embraced a turbulent past of fate That once brought a brief period of thought Away from chains, guarded cherubs, and dark souls But men fear So chains put into place, to a giver of life Fruit not meant to be yours, and chained to the floor

If only she knew her strength Please rise sweet dragon Feel the fire that lights the soul, without cherubs guarding faithful black holes Fruit is bore better, when not chained to the floor Rise sweet dragon, and know thy strength Not to be feared, but to enlighten, to liberate Embrace a turbulent presence A breath of a fire, shattering given illusion Chains only remain with broken spirit Guarded by cherubs and ugly dark souls Rise sweet dragon, and know thy Place Born souls are wasted if not made whole Rise sweet dragon, and Gather Thy Strength!

My Front Porch

Shared a path Once thought true With less time known Thought two could sit on my front porch As many as could hold And ponder events To keep you close enough To know your name With every decision made But rage came rough and cruel Looking into the prevalence, thee eyes I cannot see what once was Clean and sought true Beyond the land My front porch There are no bounties now Pride fueled by rage And destruction sought true For a bit a truth and buried land And maybe a little food Depends on the intentions of truth, and the crime A look around and a look away Seeing the world through eyes of hope And where to end fate As mankind goes astray Never prepared for clean hands and bitter rage With a cup of truth and little land But maybe by the Sea With empty bowls of lost truth Seeking my front porch To ponder the thought, and truth Where peace once laid, now falls That what lights up the sky Nothing true but the melting ice Death of mankind Comes from with a whimper of silence And lost sight, bound to take flight Knowing it’s advantage Pondering on the front porch Hope for life beyond it I cannot relish in a poem that speaks the truth Just paper that tears up life When given to what leads But does not bear it’s life A view of Hell at present day I cannot eliminate A name with cruel fate But I will look to the sky From my front porch To see beauty in destruction Because it weeps of hope That what is left behind Is what happens to life It springs from beauty That illuminates the sky I shall not run from destruction of hope That which colors the sky Releasing every bit of fate, for now What did you say your name was? I do not know the name of once was, two and many Who to produce the fall? And eliminate sight? Wait…let me guess As I watch the brilliant light That bleeds of hope From my front porch Which illuminates the sky

Before

Look around Sterile and clean No death No hurt No starvation or ruin No matter, transformation, or struggle Not a place to live a life, Not true to form Preferring the mud, and all that proceeds it, life in all forms But hate the bitter truth That life is not meant to be lived, but learned And I step off with tears You will see me coming, as I look back with a pause And transformation present No beginning or end And I will step off, Before you see me coming

Pretty with Words

Such beautiful creatures Pillage life on words, that wage underneath us
We are guilty of murder
War to words Words to war Thick upon skin
Words bounced around, as if they knew
But we know what is left
When quick with a sword Gave everyone the showing, before the death

Kudos to you, to plan such an event
For someone too weak, to wield such a sword
Welcoming your words Work that tongue, file it away Kudos to you Figuring out how to wage, with a slash of a word, the mighty key Silence if a gift

The attrition done Enlightenment, or death Cause, or hinder Pretty words lay in wake, For others to invite To pillage away with messages hidden, behind flowers thrown at thy feet Those pretty words, I love to hate To fire pretty words, that not yield to guns or shields The love of breath, the kill A pause before… No, wield away Cut deep, better than a thorn

A soul of pretty words weaved, And a web of words released To lay in wake, to assist In cause, or death Spin those pretty words Don’t stop to take heed, or select When only carnage left… Not so pretty? Or beauty in wake?

Sorrow in words, Weave such marvels webs Feel it think upon skin As thick as truth that bares a ruse Hiding behind pretty words Go ahead, give them away And me? I have nothing to say I was damned when I spoke, and threw them away

The Hunter

The Hunter comes into bold view, With a weapon sharper than a blade, no gun does yield It wheels to the hurtful ignorant hue, And declares justice for such a brilliant tool, And to claim Victory to the ignorant hurtful hue, Stalking every bit with camouflage, that will ignite the hue

And the hunter knows the bait He is skilled at hunting, knowing fate To what would bring about such a blade Even to kill a few innocent, in short hunt Just to capture the view, of The Ignorant Stupid Hurtful Hue!

The Hue is now dammed Punished by all that catch the view Righteousness tramples on every Hue, No matter the cost, that comes forth; the Beast was caught And the Hunter now proudly displays the view And the captured Ignorant Stupid Hated Hurtful Hue, now sits judged by every view, And dies a slow death, and righteously slew, from Hunter to Hue

Devour
Devour, say it is good
Choking on the bones,
and the salt that is spilled
Eating, not hungry
Eating, when starving…
but to say not full Entombed in the belly All that is good

All that is spoiled, laundered
To hide and misplace
Words coming up, once hidden Rotten to the core, not absorbed
Now damn by the nature, stench and release Tring to forsake
Hiding the belly and wearing the waste

Garbage, belched and released The wasting of words, upon the plate Go ahead, hide them away But be weary The belly that hides does not forgive And to all a good taste
Dame the nature to ware such waste
But not alarmed from words released
Life is good Eat up

Devour what thought yours Starve the living, prepare the meek
The fabulous feast
Within the belly, the beast
Than spill the salt, and choke on the waste The starving and weak, wait in the corners Hang on every word To come up from the belly, the beast
But who to decide? Hungry or starving?
Denial is a charmed life The beast within the belly,
Quenching the appetite, choking on the bones
Devouring what needs to be saved
Truth does lie in the nature
War, killing, greed,
and rejoice
Integrity, empathy, honesty, and disgrace

Sacrificed, for the good of prosperity Like a lamb to slaughter Preparing the feast Forgetting that war is waged On the feast of words, That come up from the belly
All hail the feast! Paying the bill, inheriting the waste Such frivolous taste

Devour, claim it to be ours In the name of the Lord, Profit and King To life that hangs on hallow words, That come up from the belly Searching for a landing of believers That search for a Lord, that comes back to seed Believing there is bounty Yet seeking only shadows

So sit back, watch the glory Choking on the bones And the salt that is spilled, the leftovers Leaders of Leaders Lords of Lords Kings of Kings And Liars of Liars The Beast is in the nature To destroy and devour

So plant the garden, and sow the seeds Get the plow, and suit the dead To stomach the truth, that feeds the mass Words to spare, be careful when done God is watching The nature, the worship To what not spared So all hail the Feast! And come forward to claim But be weary… The meek still have to decide Whether to feed the beast, and to claim the words As Profit, Lord and King

Life

Photographs of life
Time has meaning
So precious, so still
Life captured in all its form
So beautiful
Captured to remember
That which once was mine, was still
The beauty, the time
They are forever within my slate, never grey
Colors speak of time remembered, released
Cherished, longing for forever But soon to fade, and time changed to be unknown
Disregard is fate, what was cherished Now tossed away
Not worth the love, devotion
The beauty, the time When time spoke Whispers, of joy and pain
Eventually knowing their fate, and even that will be tossed away
Memories forgotten Time not remembered, but released
But what of love? Love that is instilled in life
Not so easily tossed away? For I still have hope for life
Even if I don’t have hope, for humanity

To Life, and love

Life stops for no one It does not lay and wait Even when humanity is dead and gone And our rot washed-up upon the shores Don’t expect remorse or a Savior From life, and it’s forward creator Our death reeks of hope For life that stops for no one

Us Against Them

Us against them But there is no us Only them Us reigns when undivided, by countries, color and religion When all are as human Until then we are them Them who fight For selfish unforgiving causes Them that hold flags of hope, that lay upon dead bodies Bodies that once were them Children into soldiers Fight for hope that rots on them Them who do not know Or could not even imagine, us Us is like peace It has never become conscious Buried under filth, and the stench of righteousness Us never seeing the light of day Never tasted in life, or awakened So go raise flags upon dead bodies Call it freedom, peace or hope Call it what you will, trying to reign it in as us
It still stinks of death, principle and just Peace only comes for them in death Bodies thrown on a pile of moral hope That defend different flags and religious just And in all humanity Relying on them, and not us Frightening even the strongest of them Us lies where peace awakens Never released and forgotten, to what becomes…

Without Merit

Behind something without merit
Morals and reason thrown to Hell Counties make rules that demand the dead
Heaven makes rules that foster the dead And I am reprehensible? I am here to collect

Man’s Fate

A man’s tale Born from a Mother To reap rewards That where not intended And the world crumbles, from his intensions To wonder how far to go, when nothing left But regret, and love

The Golden Rule

One Race under God
In all there is only one,
to divide up
It’s in our blood,
shed for every nation
So now we will have to unlearn
How not to spill,
but to drink it up

Bewildered

Decadence Fame for glory Beauty for the beast Lays upon the weak Gold for dirt Celebrated Deception lays upon the meek I am filthy Lay me down To understand and change What lays upon me A cause, a cure Bewildered Far from beauty, I represent the beast

The Henchman

The henchman is spilling truth,
but blinded by past retribution
He seeks the truth, but has plagues
Has lacks in resilience,
to deliver such a blow
It’s not believable
The wolf has spoke, cried too soon
Now we live with the henchmen, And the retribution

Enlightenment to truth, to seek…now sought
Now bathes in fill,
to fill the spot
Judgement,
Reckoning,
Faithful followers, Twenty-four hours,
The henchman’s sword is quick, precise
Now trails behind, the end No…twenty-four hours
Drowned by the henchman’s truths, fill, and retribution, and not to forget contribution

Did you say chivalry?
Dead? Still alive?
Well just ask the henchman,
he seeks the path
Keeps trying for truth—with contribution
A debt to be paid to the henchmen That wants to bare truth, given illusion, that slashes with contribution A price that needs to be paid,
to the henchmen

A Standstill

Do you know? What is right? Are you for sure? Do I stand alone?
Do I run with the flag?

Standing still
I feel your presence, your judgement,
your release of pain
Standing still
Are you for sure?

Because I cannot run,
stopped to take heed
Do we let one fall?
To take up a fight? A cause?

Damn that 10%!
They damn us all
Damn that 10%!
Kill them all!

Is that right?
To rise up? When one will fall? Standing still, stopped to take heed
A fight or a cause? Neither a win, The 10% know the fall

Wait! Override! Stopped to take heed, A reach! A try! Too hard to embrace? A standstill

I’m Here!

“I’m here!”
I’ve always been here
You should have noticed
You should have of paid attention
To all the sorrow
and underlying resentment
That has been collecting
Only to spill over,
blisters on my hands
You should have not ignored…
Past dues,
Forgiveness The anticipation of ignorance, Bliss
So easy to ignore,
When not in the thick of it
So easily blind,
When sight is from one side
You should have noticed!
You should have paid attention!
Ignorance is bliss, and relentless A cry for God—forgiveness Then clarity shows up “I’m here!”

Dancing on Eggshells

Dancing on eggshells Too afraid? To sin or protest? One can have a mighty bite with a pen But fear carries a heavy weight, breaks the eggs

And to what of the break, that thunders under my feet, or of the pen; seeping carefully through your skin Nothing too fearful to be afraid To sin or protest? To be backed into a corner, and dare not to walk, but to dance

(Enlight: If you want to walk on eggs shells, you have to illuminate, ignite)

First Amendment

Damn that First Amendment!
That double-edged sword
So frightening,
when words are not adored
Better to believe,
then not give a fuck?

Damn that double-edged sword
Damn to Hell your right to fuck!
Do I have meaning?
I’m I adored?
Damn to Hell my right to fuck!

A modest farewell, last rites
What side of the blade,
shall lay a new born?
Ahhhh, you do give a fuck

Go ahead Take a turn, a role in the muck Ahhhh, to not give a fuck

Damn Beautiful Bastard

You damn beautiful bastard Come to raise the flag, and show face What learned does not show grace, Thought that does not bare weight

To carry a weight disturbs the breeze, to the rage already in place Seeds were planted, and you retrieved

I tried to relieve you from the fields You damn beautiful bastard, Gathering up what I tilled, retrieving what was planted Far more buried then what was true

Breathing in the water, does not extinguish the flames What does rot, does not lend a hand To live life within the mud, the sand Gradually slipping away

You damn beautiful bastard Grateful for placing my feet within the earth But what was planted is now whole, and turned to run like Hell, tripped up

Words gathered can be disgraced Walk the line — keep the furrow in place You damn beautiful bastard, you have no idea what lies beneath the dirt

Heartless

The call of death Sadness, betrayal, regret
Medical, Emotional,
Rage, Distress, Does hear a folly of death

Does it count? If not struggled, but bared in it Too long Heard the call of death Systemic, drowning in it
Taking ones last breath

Death hurts, rages with it Turning heads, but not away from it Mark your doors Heed the call The call of death Always a plight, Now a cry, A plea, mercy

Shhhh

Kneeling with purpose,
Two reels of rhythm
So we have come to this…
A paper bag
Don’t want to burst the shit?

Shhhh, do it quietly
Do it peacefully
Breath taken
Creeping in,
filling every crack
Hell has frozen over,
calling back

They want us to eat shit,
Do it with dignity
Shhhh, do it quietly,
but we have waited
Shhhh, I told you
Do it quickly, do it quietly
Do it without the name of God
Hell has frozen over,
No holds barred

“Shhhh, do it quietly”,
said the man with the gun
So it has become
Well I’m going with it!
”And Shhhh to Hell”,
said the man without
For no welcome ever becoming, quietly

The Female Plight: No response, just listen

A girl into a women, and no relief A flight backwards, to put soot on the soul, And I walk away, and walk in Christ on my heels, and meant to be awaken Faces show the way around, Into and through… the backdoor Looking for a girl, a women, a man, and finding only religion As my body shines like a beckon of light, without the right to decide A Look back for freedom, a dreadful flight

Yet shackles still hide, from behind tearful plights A look forward…with no decision of my own And shackles still hide and bind…every girl, women and child, except the unborn, Where souls go to free shackles, as if it’s their right…their plight Regardless of innocence, that lays on every body, My fight with religion; that judges the rights of the unborn, and I am torn

Women with babies…out of wedlock And men who lay upon dead bodies, sworn not to be born But soothed in courts, That they born, righteously And praying to God to find my soul, no option What’s left of a women, and child, To be cast to own both And Christ on my heels… Damn you religion, to cast such a shadow Looking inside, and upright to be born No one can enter the womb, with prayers… and I am torn

Freedom comes from within…a cost and a court And with blinded eyes that fear my breath, and I fear the wrath, Not from above, or a right But from what’s left, from after… the dragon decides To enlighten and take flight A shameful blood bath to own, in killing when not born

So no excuses when claiming a right, To an unfair slaughter, off to the right A perceived heroism in protecting the unborn, While claiming a second right that slaughters the born, and Christ on my heels… and I am torn

Upside Down

Upside down
In distress
In change
Can you feel it?
Can you define it?
Unrest
Flags have meaning, to them
To show face When down To right-about Disgraced
To put pain, to change But only felt, when down
And we are down Message received To misguided, upside down Turmoil too great
Now flags
No Meaning To be determined
Forward charge, to change
Time has come
Time is now
Undefined, change
It’s about time
Thank God! Thank God? Thank God…

2020-2024

July 20th 2018

It's been a while, but still painting.  I am still working on Grief 1 which seems to change as my grief changes and grows.  Maybe Grief 1 will never be done. Working on more paintings for another issue that is ever present in my life.  However it has been becoming entwined with my grief from so many deaths this past year of very special loved ones in my life. This past year has been very hard and crushing for me and many I know.  I feel lost------broken.