poetry
2008 (age 31)
~loneliness~
what misery is loneliness
a clinging gray despair
fog breath misting over the panes of glass
running my finger across them
the tears glide down in large drops
~moon~
The moon veiled herself in clouds tonight
But I could still
hear her song
Strains of
moonlit symphony floating on the cloud tops
Drifting down
through the evening cooled sun kissed leaves
They trickle
slowly, dripping whole notes, rippling rays tinged with ivory staccato
Kneeling in the
damp grass, Face upturned to drink in the moon’s sweet offerings.
I lay back,
taking in the radiance that is her beauty
My fingertips
tracing curves high above, conducting the swirling eddies of the milky way
She lets the
clouds slip off. They fan back into the sky
Exposed, the
symphony is boundless
The once
conducting arms drop uselessly as my senses overwhelm.
music floods the light floods the music
sight taste hearing touch
Fuse in immersion
for a moment…
I am the moon and
the moon is Me.
~love~
When love is not
madness, it is not love.
~Pedro Calderon
de la Barca
She had gorgeous
eyes.
He held my heart.
I was
intimidated, intrigued, and infatuated.
We talked for
hours about anything, everything, and nothing.
He wrote me
poems.
Her song awakened
and stirred my soul.
We spoke our own
private language.
I was hopeless.
Her brilliance
gave me pause.
His love taught
me bravery.
We were
completely at ease with one another.
I longed and
yearned and pined.
She was exquisite
(and I told her).
His kiss enflamed
every inch of flesh it touched.
We wrote novels
with the intertwining of hands.
I let countless
opportunities to kiss (and more) slip by.
Her beauty
taunted my senses.
His tenderness
surprised me.
We laid together and communed with the stars.
I grew and became
a better person.
~dream~
sometimes the world
goes red and gold
shifting greens
permeating blues
a pulsing rainbow of tastes, smells, sounds
bringing back memories
thoughts
visions of worlds yet created
i reach out to touch them
the ripples shimmering out from the center
they almost feel real
it is warm and sticky
as it drenches my hand
flexing, i watch the
tendons rise and fall
causing mountains of purple
collapsing into rivulets of orange
becoming a muddy brown that trickles past my wrist
reality shatters the artistry
the conscious mind rails
opposing yet craving
i close my eyes again
and the colors shift
~dragon nature~
we are wise
we are old souls
you know us when you see us
looking out at you from behind these young eyes
we see what lies hidden
what you don’t even know you possess
we are fiery
passionate
flickering, burning
dancing in the depths
licking and caressing
leaping gracefully
fire takes hold where it can
we are seductive
elusive
unpredictable
dangerous
tempting
alluring
the heat spreads across your face
your cheeks
down your neck
the crimson flush attracting further exploration
we know
we crave this feeling
this power
this rush that builds at your core and explodes outwards
infinitely
we drink it in
it feeds us
we will dance for you
call to you
envelop you in warmth
it is our nature
we are dragons.
~rose haiku
quartet~
sweet velvet petals
opening, dripping with dew
rose essence pervades
inhaling her scent
i have become enchanted
she captivates me
pluck not the wild rose
her spirit will not be tamed
no arbor worthy
brow touching cool ground
i meditate, admiring
a garden of one.
~impudence haiku
trilogy~
impudence of youth
words of emotion, enflamed
spoken too quickly
passion can exist
in evenly measured words;
breath tempers ardor
that which is our strength
can quickly become weakness
when sentiment rules.
~haunting~
“a house is never still in darkness to those who listen
intently”
~ J.M. Barrie
pacing the floor
old boards creaking under my shifting weight
these walls harbor no ghosts
no restless spirits with tasks undone
the only soul haunting this house tonight
is mine
echoes of memories
like the afterimage of a photograph
play out on the screen of my mind
the darkness and silence providing the perfect
backdrop
setting a stark contrast to the colors, smells,
sounds
the house settles itself with creaks and groans
80 year old bones
tired in their unceasing vigil providing shelter
to restless ghosts
and their memories
1999 (age 22)
~splinter~
knock they say and the doors shall be opened…
they forget to mention
the splinters.
the price of asking.
where is the guarantee that says i will like the answer?
i want to sign my name
a contract
no more disappointments.
a trip?
yes i’ll buy a ticket…
i’ve booked my heart on the titanic once more.
the view at first is optimistic…
romance blossoms like an orchard in may
then the damnable iceburg
rears it’s head.
it is inevitable…
you will plunge into the icy darkness
and pray desperately for a rescue ship
hope in the night
a door…
to lead you out of the nightmare
you knock…
~splinter~
1994 (age 17)
~whisper~
a whisper melts my dreams
sends them swirling into the sky
gently they float and glide
riding on soft currents
ripples of wind from butterfly wings
caressing your face
they come to rest
revealing my hopes
unveiling my feelings
a whisper…
your name.
~hunted~
The panther
stalks in the quiet jungle.
Carefully he
prowls, stops, sniffs the air.
He catches my
scent; the chase begins.
A telephone
rings, quiet voices,
A
silent click.
Doors slam,
crying eyes;
The panther has
attacked.
The chase has
ended,
The
panther victorious.
Everyday, a struggle for life.
The panther is
powerful,
Muscles tensed,
waiting,
For the scent of
fear
That signals the
attack.
But he can be
overcome.
He can be
overcome.
1993 (age 16)
~love tries~
flickering flame,
almost gone
love’s eternal fire,
consumed,
slowly dying
despair’s icy breath
blowing steadily
a passerby looks on…
struggling,
fighting for life
fairness is a stranger to love
interest fills the passerby
funny,
how love tries…
the wind is slowly calmed
a warmth grows within
fluttering flame
now burning bright
love’s battle is won
the passerby smiles.
~the word~
Love; so short
and simple
the word;
Yet, in that
word,
A lifetime of
hopes and dreams
Await.