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
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