Category Archives: Poetry

The Liebster Award

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7

Liebster Award

The Liebster Award

Okay, so, I’ve never received an award before. Well, not on WordPress, anyway. I hope I’m doing this right. Sweet as pie “Theodora Zheng” has bestowed this honor upon me. I will do my best to follow all the rules.

Rules:

• Post 11 random facts about yourself (check!)
• Answer 11 questions asked by the person who nominated you (check!)
• Nominate 11 bloggers (with less than 200 followers) to do the same (umm…)
• Let the bloggers know you have nominated know they have been nominated (done!)

Eleven Random Facts about Me:

1. I love seafood and lamb, although my diet is primarily vegetarian.
2. Most people who “know” me think I am an extrovert… but really, I’m just a socially well-adjusted introvert.
3. I am a hopeless romantic with zero romance in my life… Lol, life is so grand.
4. When I got divorced, I kept all of the tools (because I was the only one who used them).
5. I will try almost anything once, as long as it doesn’t compromise my morals or involve narcotics… oh yeah, or lots of pain (that ain’t cool!)
6. Football is my favorite sport (to watch and play).
7. I love to travel, both to new places and old favorites (so far Israel is my FAVORITE!)
8. I get along with everyone, but I’m a loner at heart.
9. I work mainly with the upper class; live amongst the middle class; and serve and worship with the poor and homeless.
10. Music moves me on every level. I enjoy almost all genres, except metal, mariachi, and techno. Jazz has to be along the acid and Latin lines.
11. I am a Gemini, Water, Ox… if you know anything regarding Western and Eastern astrology, this will tell you practically everything about my innate design. If you don’t… well, it’s hard not to love me! Haha… nah, I’m sure I get on some people’s nerves. But, I’m intuitive enough to know where I don’t belong and independent enough to have no problem walking away.

Eleven Questions Asked by My Nominator…

1. Do you prefer cities, suburbs, or villages?  Answer:  Suburbs… more peaceful than the city, but you still have toilets.

2. Do you find it more productive to write longhand (pen, pencil, paper) or on a computer/typewriter?  Answer:  Longhand… I’m on the computer 80% of the time for work, but true creativity and rapid thought processing flows directly from hand to paper.

3. What’s your favorite flavored drink?  Answer:  Hmm… Horchata and Thai Iced Tea come to mind first, also love watermelon slushy! … assuming water with lemon doesn’t count 🙂

4. What is the dream closest to your heart (that you’re willing to share)?  Answer:  Ooh… this is harder than it seems. Well, I have dreams for myself and dreams for society, but the one closest to my heart is the spiritual, emotional, intellectual, and physical health of my son. He’ll be leaving for college pretty soon and becoming an adult, so I pray for his heart’s desires to be appropriate and divinely met.

5. What song has been stuck in your head? Or what song have you been listening to recently?  Answer:  Kings & Queens by Audio Adrenaline

6. Name something you do to de-stress.  Answer:  Pray… dance… exercise… write

7. Describe your current fashion, and ideal fashion. If they’re different, what’s stopping you?  Answer:  Fashion has no dominant role in my life. I like simple, unique pieces that are timeless and interchangeable. Work clothes, play clothes, and make-you-look-twice clothes are all a matter of fit and function in my opinion.

8. Why do you smile each day?  Answer:  God holds my heart.

9. What’s the most pressing issue facing the world today? Not just America or your specific country, but the globe.  Answer:  Hunger… poverty… poverty of spirit… lack of Love… injustice… greed… intolerance (perhaps evil & indifference is a proper summation).

10. How do you feel about Tuesdays?  Answer:  They are often better than Mondays, one step closer to hump days, and – if nothing else – the only days you get movie and dining discounts if you are able to spare the time.

11. Is the penny useful?  Answer:  If you don’t want to break a dollar to spend a cent 🙂

Okay… so, most of the blogs I read have a bazillion followers. I will keep combing through the masses for those with less than 200 WordPress stalkers. In the meantime, my first nominee is Chojin Bain (Farzam). Granted, I can’t read even half of his postings due to language; the stuff I can read is well worth the effort.

As my search for nominees continues… here are the questions I pose:

1. What is your driving force?
2. Who is your favorite musical artist?
3. How do you define love?
4. What is your favorite dessert?
5. If you could visit any place in the world, where would you go?
6. What is your greatest pet peeve (annoyance)?
7. Which animal would you most liken yourself to and why?
8. What do you love most about your life?
9. Do you believe in miracles?
10. What do you love most about yourself?
11. What do you value most in others?

The Morning After

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4

Laying here scattered, thoughts tattered
Like a newborn ripped from the womb
Wiggling in this goo of lost comfort
Unable to seize enough air to bellow my angst
Confusion bustles around me
Thoughts run frantic in an
Effort to wipe away fear
Only, it smears instead
This bed does not swaddle my insecurities
No, it illuminates impurities I no longer hide
And I can’t scoff because – I made it
I made it, but I won’t lie in its prickly sheets
I mustn’t, I can’t
But will I…
Eve is already drifting into awakening
Pinching dreams into fruition
Status no longer petitioned, no longer new
This soul doesn’t know how to recant
The scant of its flesh in epic fail
No retake posted, no longer hosted
Culpability envelopes me, tucking me
Tighter into these rags, lower into these throes
Eyes baring secrets I shouldn’t yet know
Essence nude in compromising layers of contemplation
Bartered salvation for sensations I’ve
Already almost forgotten
Those piercings of the night sink in deep
With no space to bleed out in the morn
If I could not save myself in the dark
Who will I be come dawn

Aboideau

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0

It swings both ways…
the door between
my contagious charms
and the burn behind your gaze
Your phase is just a meltdown,
a falling into what can never sustain
These bones refuse to sink into
shifting sands that sift through
shallow, weakened walls…
Arms unloaded and locked, not meant
to understand the tides that
stir this spirit’s pause
I pray you feel this cause
Rejecting moods of reckless man,
praise rides wild on doting breaths
my soul cannot contain;
a force that gnaws at soulless limbs
which wish such love was tamed
Unashamed and hanging in defeat,
loosed tongues wield whetted blades;
prepping now a victor’s march as if
such things can cut these flames
This source knows no retreat,
a Will of power beyond my own,
seized in the Light that never dims,
a joy with an unceasing roar, but you’re
standing at my door, wearing
eternity in your glare,
darkness furies in your stare
And I, fully aware of the
Heart who holds my own,
wonder which you fear more…
the power of Glory within
or the sight of the open door

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4

Time waits

while I run

This ferocity of action

charged by expectations

only a madman can measure

This treasure – gifted curse

of accommodation

Pockets too deep to

not pay the costs

Cashing out this well of

blood, sweat and tears that

I remit with a smile

The meanwhile, as meager as it is,

gives way to tender moments and

fits of fury, competing

to be my resting place;

mere seconds of redemption in an

ongoing whirlwind of others’

and self-imposed demands

Wants get met under the

delusion of necessity, the

compromise of humanity, the

sacrifice of sanity

But I’m still thinking…

Annoyed and intrigued,

wagers pour their pockets into

the kitty riding on my survival

I hear their whispers

I know their bets

I feel their air,

but won’t breathe it in

Those clouds are too high

and too low for my sustenance

Not for sport –

Existence is an art; drawn and

choreographed by circumstance;

painted and performed by me

I always have a choice

by

0

Feels like rain…
these drops of indifference
Wet air dripping pretentious traces of
hope laced in heavy rhetoric,
cooling my neck with voids that
once left me hot under the collar
Now my mind wonders how
so many fell out of scope,
failing to see society is a product
of how we choose to cope
Dominion of our souls
submitted to associations
forming labeled nations
devised for exactly that goal
What level of insanity
loses its humanity to
powers ill-equipped to
rise up, size up or wise up
life’s blood flow?
Veins reduced to
vessels of restraint,
no longer a source for
pumping up a stepping up
to the oversized plate of the man
Not a condition, a choice –
Heart’s affirmation in losing its voice
Minority rules
majority fools
who blind themselves
in the dewy comfort of
freedom’s containment
Liberty differentiates
pacifist partisan outpours
from wellsprings of true sustenance
So…
When do we get to vote on that?

Island

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2

Not adrift
but set apart
No mainland hold
on these shifting sands
Change is a constant wind
dancing through this air of solitude
where contentment keeps loneliness at bay

Abiding moments
of contemplation ask
is paradise still paradise
if uninhabited, unexplored
The sweetest of fruits is a farce
until placed on the lips of judgment
Can this existence know any lesser truth

Perhaps
the prize is
enveloped in this
untouchable quality
this surmising of what
is seen from distant perspectives
which cannot fathom the reality of this reality

This reality
an organic mix
of palpable flaws
and esoteric divinity
harbored in segments
of seed, soil, sprout and bloom
unimpressive singly, breathtaking in concert

Beats
stir blue
undercurrents
causing mischievous
waves to settle quietly
against these defusing shores
Heart’s core extending roots of cultivation

An island
set apart for
moving spirits
voiceless tears and
loveless souls reaching
for an absence of vexatious flesh
embodied in an Eden harvested by His hand

Yoked

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0

Drenched in this haze,
thoughts fog over,
racing for first place
on this toiler’s agenda

When did a day’s quota
morph into the barely bearable,
dismissing into hiding
the center of my conscience?

Highbrow schemes milk my
dreams of creative serenity,
sourcing these gifts
for political twists and antics

Operating in degrees of
FRANTIC
because self-definitions hang
in the balance of public acceptance

My tasks…
frame it, mold it and package it
for consumption by the masses,
facilitating ineptness into logical discourse

This voice,
straddled by sacrifice to
deliver someone else’s vice
with beautiful embellishment

Distorted weight on what’s valuable
in eyes that can’t really see through
the smokescreen of my penmanship;
my art bastardized for a paycheck

Not a mid-life shortchanging, but a
tool for navigating shifting waters in a
draining well of opportunity where
shallow breaths and thick skin are commodities

But these native sighs are heavy
and this veiled film, so thin; tenderly
living within, defiantly existing without…
two realities yoked to one heart

I’ve never not thrived in duplicity;
advancing and retreating,
the spoils and the victor,
the lioness lamb whispering roars

All of them, witnesses to the quiet
power of these keystrokes;
deafened to the thunderous passions
of these thoughts

Muffled praises for this dripping
of residue they cannot compose
fall faint beside this screaming soul,
composing words they will never hear

Invisible

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2

Cloaked in the smog of unworthiness
Layers of disapproval and disgust hide me
A presence disregarded

Composition of wasted life
Betrayed by calloused hands and parched lips
Always grasping, never quenched

Brows furrowed under the constant heat
Wearing veils of tragedy and unforgiveness
Judged with abandon by nature and nurture

Nested crown absent of glory
Carrying a hidden story no one wants to read
Sights go through me

Deemed purposeless pauper of poverty
Labeled by ignorance
Looking out, but no one’s looking in

Existence in full wretchedness
Clung to by default
Still, begging for survival

Stock in tow
Never knowing who will be willing
To buy a piece of my dignity

Spare change for my belly
Spare smile for my soul
Anything to live on…

Warm eyes leave me
Sufficiently undisturbed
Being radically affected by the unaffected

Intent on living one more day
Spiting fate’s disdain for my humanity
Indignity falls with dusk

Starry arms come courting
Darkness whispers charms in night
Exposure reveals those lies

Insanity spies
Embracing disparate vanity
Defining this universal sentence of outcast

Dawn breaks…
With it, my heart
Readied for another day’s portion

Shell resurfaces
Wading society’s gutter
Waiting to be seen in my reflection

I am the perpetual answer to God’s question
Existing among the least of these…
Who will choose to see me?

My Reason

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7

a simple glance
and my heart glows
the only reason I held it together
the very reason I fell apart
the driving force behind
every gentle step and
every fervent stride
how would the void have been filled
what could I have clung to
had I remained gift-less
not a reflection of my flesh
but surely the essence of my soul
brilliant, discerning, confident, righteous,
level… all the things I never was
and also my father’s dimples
easy on the eyes
with lashes from here to eternity
heavy on this heart
which somehow loves him more every second
my soul belongs to God
but everything else good in me is immeasurably his
my reason for laughing loudly
my reason for sobbing from the pit of my stomach
my reason for doing, not trying
why I push through fear and conquer giants
the first “thank you for…” in my morning prayer
and “please protect…” in each thereafter
my inspiration
my joy’s companion
my most delightful and most difficult challenge
my devil’s advocate when my head is unclear
why I must survive – but sometimes let go
why the more I learn
the more I question what I know
the perfect paradox to the angst of history
the most significant justification for my presence here
my deepest of loves and only clear purpose
the hero of my failures and meaningful successes
my son

http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/09/18/dungeon-prompts-season-3-week-8-ode-to-a-hero/

Facade

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13

He said, “I do”
But didn’t.
Somehow I always knew.
Denial and the Will are a
wicked combination.
Dreams of ever-after
capsulized into a tiny gaseous star
buried in the depths of my bosom.
It’s only light, the flicker in my eyes.
Days became freedom runs;
I always shined in the rat race.
Dusk drew dimmer times, and
weekends were the darkest.
I didn’t want to watch, but
could never look away.
That was the twist of the blade.
What about me was never enough?

He said, “I never will… again”
But did.
That one actually fooled me.
But then,
foolish had become my surname.
It was never as blatant as
the first time…
pressed into the wall by the grip
of his drunken stupor,
but the encores would mark
another beginning to the end.
I knew I was broken,
I didn’t know how much.
Not all of me was daft;
escaping became an art
and then a routine.
Perhaps I could survive this…
‘til death do us part.

He never said, “I couldn’t”
I just assumed it.
She wasn’t the first, but
she was my sister after all.
And there I was… the leading role;
Sigourney Weaver in
“Liars in the Mist” and
I alone searched in the dark.
Which truth would be mine?
Death triumphed over the knowing.
Defenses of the mind are second only
to defenses of the heart,
I protected both;
Failure was not an option.
I would be the perfect wife and mother
at all costs.
And the alternate universe began.

I said, “I will not give up”
But did.
The eventual clouding over of my heart
loosened my grasp until the
notion of –us– unknowingly slipped
through my fingers.
Fear’s shadow retreated,
and likewise – hope.
Boundaries began to fade with
all the reasons I once had to care.
My bag of tricks emptied…
no more facades of perfection,
no more afflicting suspicions,
no more chill of isolation.
I still wasn’t me, but at least
I wasn’t her anymore either.
I just was.
Existing without delusion was enough.

I never thought, “I will one day”
But one day came.
In a moment, I took it all in:
twelve years and counting;
adrift in a world with so many layers,
I’m still peeling off skins.
I knew I was stronger than the
sum of my hurts, but my spirit wasn’t.
Without warning, she left me
and all her vexations followed.
The scars of my flesh and the
wounds of my soul – together
armored my heart,
on that one day,
in that one moment,
and I was no longer his.
I was no longer his.
And discovery of my universe began,
as I searched in the Light
to regain what was lost.

This Cup

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17

Bound to arrive…
That final hour etched
into the Book of Life;
the point in time when
my soul can no longer be
held within this skin

To pass into Judgment and
bear witness to my
defining moments in the
seasons gone by,
praying I pour forth
more light than darkness

Lifting my chalice
filled with the culmination
of all things I couldn’t see and
those led by the Spirit,
I watch drops fall, accounting for my time,
both well spent and wasted

Heart postured in peace,
joyful to be released, yet
mourning through the eyes
of legacy – evidence of all
that was ever good in me…
my Will is torn

Faith is the All that I have to release
in this conundrum of duplicity.
The tides of change are bittersweet, not in
consequence to an era misspent and squandered,
but rather the inheritance of exquisite eternity
hazed by abandoning one earthly joy

Never a trial too great or a sacrifice wasted;
only the warmth of my being, the justified reason
for my time spent here.
Heaven on earth, he’s been…
Still, this sole affliction of flesh and bones is
simply the incarnate nurture of my humanness

Abundantly, this cup has emptied its fruitfulness;
hence, the filling up has been worthwhile
and this soul is already free to flee
the Serpent’s playground whenever called.
Time was never mine to grasp,
only the dance with which I filled it.

I’ve journeyed well in the shadow
of the Holy Hand, empowered
with infallible force and salvaged
by the unbroken sacrifice,
so I do not run to or from the
end of this existence

Whether I stay or go…
this time, in this manner, as this form
has never been before and
will never come again,
so I breathe and rest in the knowing
of right now

Resolute in humble ecstasy,
hopeful empathy and courageous
surrender to my fate;
I offer this cup unto the hereafter,
blissfully seeking purity and
faultlessness for the first time.

http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/09/11/dungeon-prompts-season-3-week-7-until-our-last-breath/

A Lesson

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2

The heart wants what it wants… yet desires fall asunder,
unparalleled in might to the fates of the spirits.

Who am I to question I AM, but for the purpose of knowing
where next to place my stride and affix my gaze?

Lofty visions of a simple man take hold of sensibilities
and leave the soul waning in the blur,
beseeching for the comforts of hallowed seclusion.

Standing firm is equivalent to the flee and cloak of sacred refuge.

All is hidden in the depths of humility;
sacrificed beneath the tongue of silence;
betrayed within the tears of night.

Dreams fancy the conscious,
concealing its secrets and trapping its woes
until the darkest hour.

There is some form of mercy here.

Freely flying spirit,
weighed only by the melancholy of consequence,
slowly sheds the affliction for renewed life;
depositing still another lessoned sin
into its suppository of cultured virtues.

I am learning.

Fulfillment of the flesh is a broken man’s plunder;
vexing his tongue, veiling his sight,
cursing his soul to wander…

The heart wants what it wants; but the Spirit holds the scepter
to strike ill wants asunder.

Perpetual

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0

It lingers…
an ache so subtle,
a depth so hidden,
a wound so close to the surface
it shines in my smile,
it pours from my eyes,
it tunes in my ears
and seeps from my heart.
Oh how it follows me,
how it abides with me,
how it goes before me and
draws forth the best
and the worst
and the grooves in the midst…
How perpetual its trail,
its traces,
its ever-flowing streams
throughout my being.
Oh how it moves in me,
from me
and through me
into such great love…
the perpetual presence and power
of this wonderful,
glorious,
forgiving,
sacrificing,
blooming,
growing,
defining,
believing,
embracing,
adoring,
giving,
and ever hopeful…
broken heart of mine.

In the Midst

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0

One more step
and I am lost in translation,
the midst between here and there…
Beginnings seem so clear and
endings seem so distant,
yet here I am
losing sight in the center
of this end.
Could it be the rebirthing that
squeezes me through this
chamber of tunnel vision?
How lowly I am in this dance,
this dance of limbo where I am
neither the lead nor the follow.
I am simply hollowed out by
the outpour of what could’ve been
and hallowed within by the
ambivalence of what will be.
What a revelation to see
only me
standing in this midst of life…
halfway done
and barely
taking form.

For Verse First ~ Just Past Center

Schema

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0

Blue streaks delineate your purpose,
Outlining refined segments of
Information – categorized by the
Will of my hand.
Bright and inviting, each new
Turn marks a fresh start…
A place to begin again.
Sometimes your yesterdays
Mark the end,
Other times, a means for
Navigating my future.
The pressures of authority and time
Scramble our communication and
Your words become fuzzy, broken
And misunderstood…-
A dilemma best resolved
Immediately.
But when you have flipped
And you stare at me with your
Canary yellow face,
Open to all my whimsies,
Inviting my thoughtful
Etchings…
My mind smiles and
I begin to create
Art;
Framed definitions of
Unfinished business
And
New arrivals…
An agenda for my life’s steps
One by one.
You are the unconventional diary
Of my work.

 

For Verse First ~ Right Under Your Nose, to describe something close by… I described my notepad.

Clarity

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2

Broken_Heart

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breath held
Til I turn blue
This air breeds pain
Lies here – all laced in truth
To make this fool insane
Dangling from deceptive hope
I’ve never dwelled elsewhere
Rolling down its barb-wired slope
Through sins I shouldn’t bear
Whipped by tongues unholy and fierce
My heart dons scars of war
They float on the daggers
By which I’m pierced
Penetrating my soul like whores
Affixed by tears
I cannot swallow
I’m drowned from inside out
And all that awaits me in the morrow
A sea of crashing doubt
Ire of a thousand stabbed til blind
Tenfold this depth of sorrow
Good and bad so intertwined
A tightrope far too narrow
Vultures spy with sweet unrest
And hungers to be fed
Lest I land upon one’s tongue
My sacrificial bed
Silenced by too many falls
No song remains within
A sole whisper my spirit cries
Consumed by the belly it’s in
Melting away in the molting junction
Of failure and despair
Dismayed by the smothering resolution
Love was never here

Haze

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0

Dusty forms mirror the haze in mind
as gusty winds sweep lonely desert
particles into clouds of unforgiveness.

Why is everything a fog of what now
and what next?

When does the break appear… the
one that prolongs the last desperate
exhale into hope for tomorrow after
today’s already given up?

How is it this cup is never full until
life is poured out in cynicism and
emptiness prevails, leaving a gritty
ring of failure at its bottom to be licked?

Who sprayed this sweet whipped cream
of delusion around my lips, creating
realms of sticky logic for me to cling to
while everyone else sees a foaming
madman?  

Am I the only one tasting this
reality; knowing where I am, choosing
my every step, and still utterly lost?

Seismic

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0

Love melts into cemented planes
of indifference
Molten cores still manage to stir
while the surface remains stoic
Volcanic spouts contained
to minimize a pouring out of
compromise
No one can surmise the
complexities of this mindless
hearth that overthinks the heart
and leaves sensibilities
dumbfounded
Anything grounded turns to mush
so don’t sink any deeper
In the depths of this jovial shell
lies the reaper of imaginings
feeding death my lofty dreams
Extreme steam melts zealous
hopes into a spill of cyclical
tears… a constant raining inside
Vibrations verify there’s life
still, but little will
to ride the next wave
of activity
This cavity begs for a
new destiny

Why

by

0

One trick ponies
riding pink elephants
float on clouds of mayhem
refusing to see
the curtain is drawn and
the act should be over
Life stops where the stage
drops off because
earth is flat in this existence
and once you cross the edge
there’s no coming back
Cheap fixes call for
lowlife hustles so the mirage
can maintain the only pinch
of sanity for the insane
Reality’s cure flies in
on a breeze where granules
travel above a table
on bruised knees
Tunnel vision
through a hand tool
shoved in an orifice
Dementia is the saving grace
Beauty spun from a brilliant
mind into the black widow’s
landmine waiting to explode
Who’s listening to the
secret’s told in this darkness
when the spotlight breaks
the soul’s silence
She who matters most
But oh yeah no one matters
Here
Heart’s betrayal
like butterfly wings
flutters into the night sky
There is no why
It just is

Misspent

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1

How do I love you?
The account will claim
Sleepless nights
Foggy days
Sweet nothings lost
In powdered haze
Crimson veils
That stung and swayed
Turned rusted locks
Broke magic keys
Dropped inflamed hearts
Down to their knees
Skin worn in
To bleed the need
Starved the soul
To feed your creed
Eyes flipped back
I missed the view
Living for
Another you
Serpent’s tongue
A thousand molds
Proof your goods
Were bought and sold
Receipts
The lowest bidder holds
Blows-Blows-Blows
Hit beneath the gut
Stalled out in vacuums
You sealed shut
Without even knowing
No growing
Just honing in
On the distance
Between the spin
Of our two worlds
You can touch my love
But you can’t breathe it in
No vacancy amongst
The demons within
How do I love you?
You can’t comprehend
Released from Light
Your darkest fears
Unleashed to flee
The love that dared
How did you miss
All that was spent
Loving you…

Haunted

by

0

What has come to pass
lurks in the shadows
feeding his need to escape
then, now and tomorrow

Smiles drenched in sorrow
he fools everyone
but me
and himself

Hopes tossed on a shelf
too high for his high
to reach
dreams fall in betrayal

Mind fully capable
plays the dozens
with his soul…
overtaking his heart

His body plays the part
victim of circumstance
used in this game
as a tool of chemistry

Justified by philosophy
experiment looms fatal
holding one cause
to suspend the madman

Hunting in the sand
grains of reality creep up
swallowing false foundation
sinking a world created

Unable to stay sedated
blades retract and
exit wounds cry out
“just one more chance…”

Back pocket of his pants
still toting weapons
of self-destruction
death on hold for another day

Now

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0

Rain will fall hard
until second wind
hales the hail storm

Broken pieces cry foul
then time out
clueless – the binding agent

Time engulfs itself
turning hands to
the twelfth hour

The leaning tower
loses its bend
and its crumble is spent

Priceless – the cost
a soul tossed
into oblivion

Tomorrow
we’ll breathe again
but for now – take cover

Soul in Mourning

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Breaths drawn strain through constricting reeds;
inhales ache and exhales bleed the unknown.
I become savior, martyr, motivation and devastation
all in one.
He severs the hand of Yah
while reaching for the serpent’s tail,
introducing me to the addict’s living hell.
Life and death weighted
falsely on my shoulders…
a broken heart’s boulder to carry ‘til the end.
Beats of hope in the void,
now his target practice,
are too wounded to pulse for two anymore.
Hours on end of loving him are
sacrificed in blind devotion to the
deception and desperation of his demons.
Sights solely on the spawns of their semen;
he’s chopping down trees of life for no reason.
Truth sprouts open pores which whisper,
I’m yours…
if you maintain.
How ironic,
his creatures are manic and wild,
but it is I who is insane;
holding hands with the universe pulling in vain
to rescue man from adolescence when the
nightmare is his preference.
Chasing unforgiving darkness into a world
hopeless and loveless;
he watches every tear fall pointless
from my shattered olive branch.
Cold winter chill blows hard into my fading garden,
and warmth escapes my nature without pardon.
What is this fatal blow?
Why was this for me to know?
I was not created for this death,
nor prepared for such a loss.
I pray,
Must this be the cost?
Oh God, the burning in my core,
a pain I’ll feel forevermore,
how will I bear the letting go…
the deepest mourning of my soul

The Death of Hope

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Smothered by brewed drops of death;
Hope wrestles ’til limp,
drained by retracting streams of possibiities
because the tides never quite roll in.
I’m no longer flooded by fallacies and
false pleasantries.
Despair, made fully aware,
drifts into heart’s altar
enacting afixia.
Pale, blue, rubbery crow
plucked bare by reality…
sick from toxic puffs of
love gone awry.
Lie after lie
wake and watchful
rob me blind.
Darkness becomes sublime
before the treacherous dawn.
Life trembles right before it dies.
Now, I exist for another time.

Fire & Gasoline

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Free flowing
Flame roaming
Untamed
Fire in the wild
Blazing lovechild
Earth met Heaven
In the meanwhile
And sprung
This dance
Into colorful chaos
Moves that live
To consume
Dancing whispers of
Love
With a heat that murmurs
Come to me
Heeded
Answer exceeded anticipation
Trickled in
Like tidal waves
Bum-rushing
Burning veins
Run
Duck
Sway
No escape
Fuel’s rape injecting
Explosions of corruption
Inciting
Inferno’s rage
Torched stage
Next phase
Smoke settles
Ash remains
Nothing’s the same
Fire met gas
Neither maintained

Angst

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miniscule insipid mouse
gentle, assuming
quaint, fearful
softly wrapped bundle
awaiting the feeding…
the sting
deeply punctured
by life’s serpent
breath arrested
heart exploding
running about unheeded
unanswered
unaware
thoughts soar
body falls
into duress
heaven is still as
earth spins about my whiskers
sensory overload
none of it is real
or
all of it is real
and
none of it matters
scatter your daggers
retract your venomous
pricks
leave me to
clouds of abandon
notions of righteousness
a delusion of recovery…
in preparation for
your next feeding

in transition

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0

organic
my skin bubbles up
manic
as vessels tremble inside
love conquers all
but
ambitious blows
collide
with my chi
this is bigger than me
hopeful
he entered me
as a dragon
hard and mystical
breath
warm and soothing
left me singed
still…
heat waves pulse
like chronic seizures
with thoughts of him
imagine what
his touch does
embers blazing
beneath
bronze eyes
what can i say
that won’t
melt in his flames
words run scared
down my throat
before i choke
gaze falls upon
perfect puffs which
frame his mouth
a single graze
affirms
woman was made
for man
here I am
but
she
rode him first
vengeful scarlet
dripping crystallized dreams
from her
diamond-studded crotch
haunting
wooing
stripping
down his soul
with her mind-licking
poison
he’s lost in her…
her lustful ways
seductive moans
addictive taste
lifeless heart
his chosen fate
he’s lost in crystal
…
I’m just lost

Hope

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In the shallow depths of my heart
He allows me to break
To know
That I am nothing
In this world
A fog of emotions
A scurry of thoughts
A mound of failed intentions
Nothing worthy

Into the carved out hollows of my soul
He allows me to fall
To feel
That I am helpless
In this world
A constant winding of anxiety
An ongoing landing of disappointment
An endless outpour of confusion
Nothing powerful

In the steady enfold of His arms
He allows me to breathe
To hope
That I am more
Than this world
A shining light
A humble servant
A rising angel
Something beautiful
Something meaningful
In His eyes

Locked Away

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Springs of Life

flow foolishly

from this artery.

Again I’ve failed

to heed

the only scripture

written just for me…

“Above all else,

guard your heart”

Gift of Love

without capacity

is the package

wrapped within me.

And every drop

that falls down my face

reminds me that

all I need is His Grace.

Purposed for more

than any embrace,

any sweet word,

any false hope

of united worlds,

any deep kiss,

or dreamy gaze,

any stirring in my depths

for loving ways.

Be still.

Don’t sway.

Nothing I feel is ever meant for me.

The longing in my veins,

ripple in my blood,

tingle in my pores,

overflowing love…

all tools of service,

mercies from Above.

Forever in His Will

to live outside myself;

I’ll cross the line no more,

dream of nothing else.

Sinking into the dusk,

what must be locked away.

Rising in the dawn

rediscovering my way.

Obeying every word

of His Proverb

as I start…

Above all else,

I will guard my foolish heart.

Keyed

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More than the mark he left on my ride

Etched inside

is his deep cruel groove

He had a taste for

honey baked

hearts

So he carved out mine

and ate it with his wine

A mind in drunken state

intoxicated by doors

of his past

that opened too soon

and closed too fast

leaving him permanently scarred

and locked out

But my knob turned

Entered the hope

the love

and the burn

Hot white coals in a black pit

Chalk line drawn on the asphalt

A death that sizzles in the depths

of fault

Sharp cuts streaked into my mold

Memories keyed across

my ride and my soul

Unfolding

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Not a chance this is chance

Belonging overwhelms my soul

As it gazes helplessly into your eyes

Rights realized have never been so right

Your spirit tickles my heart

While your passion consumes it

And I fold into your devotion

When you shine God’s light

Brazen man

Lodestone to my iron clad

You undress my layers

And lick my wounds with your lion’s tongue

Then gently you engulf me

In the depths of your poet’s bosom

And I am lost in the gentle nature

Of your cloud on which I’m hung

You are the unexpected gift

Born out of darkness and confusion

Emerging as my shadowed destiny

Awaiting only Yahweh’s spark

Sweet tinder thus ignited

Enflamed by awkward circumstance

Yet drawing ever closer

Within this journey we embark

Before, I looked and couldn’t see

And now I dare not look away

Your face – the etching on the cover

Of our love story untold

Evolving ever in His mercies

We share the treasure of the Light

And the Grace that now unites us

As our history unfolds

Surrender

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2

Thoughts float…
A few stick like honey to this paper,
dripping why’s and how come’s onto the floor.
I better watch my step
before I’m glued to this uncertainty.
What’s getting into me?
I try to fly incessantly with the sun in my eyes.
Joy floods my skies, and this
Free Spirit of mine
lets passion bleed from concealed wounds
to the surface.
The hounds come howling to lap up my leftovers.
And I don’t mind feeding the needy,
But this lone wolf is lurking in the shadows,
Spying on my soul…
And I am trembling because I like his eyes.
If he captures my wings,
he might ground me and devour me!
How deep will he bite into my soul?
Screeching whispers cloud my mind.
Contemplation…
If I pet him, will I become his pet?
If I back into the thicket,
will it cloak my flesh with its stabbing fingers and
shield me from his grip?
The wind breathes into my ear,
“Soar swiftly away before you are lost to him… “
But I am stuck in this honey,
dripping with uncertainty,
succumbing to his snarl, and willingly
submitting as he preys on my naked heart.

Lemon Drop

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Image

 

 

 

 

 

Your taste is bittersweet

on my mind’s tongue.

The hero unsung.

You drift in twilight’s fog

into the voiceless dreams

of despairing hearts.

You breathe momentary life

into “what if?”

and by dawn you are gone.

You are everything I’ve ever wanted

to run away from.

And yet I wait curiously

perched on the edge of my seat

for the slightest brush of your air

against mine.

I want to breathe you in,

but your smoky composition

is recycled and stale.

I require more,

but might have settled for less

had I watched the sun rise

through your strands of hair.

If only your words lingered

and rested in the midday

crinkles on my pillow

while the soothing rotations

of the ceiling fan

cooled our damp sheets.

Instead, I am here alone

waiting for your image to dissolve,

into the sweet aftermath

which follows your bitter bite.

Invitation

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2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time stands still as I spin
My twists and turns dominate reality
As my axis lands willfully wherever I choose

Not a top to be twirled by the hands of fate
But an entire world to encounter if you dare
My atmosphere is consuming and contagious

Society’s reckoning is severely inept
Blind predictions of false outcomes shaped by
Warped concepts which compose life in the moment

But each moment is fleeting and obscure
A mystery filled with fear, doubt and an ignorance
Which finds rest in the nesting place of vultures

Dictation given by forked-tongue disciples leads to
Transcripts that burn ears, gouge eyes and bleed hearts
When read back aloud

Let my whirlwind gather such voices
And transpose them into silence in the eye of my storm
Where the loose chatter of cosmic demons meet their death

Discover the peace in the journey I offer
Fall asleep in the warmth of the fields in my valleys
Awake to the coolness of wind-whispered breezes along my streams

Rising suns ignite my earth’s fire
As each day bears witness to unimagined hopes
Every moment delivering new beginnings

Falling stars land in opulent soil
Diving against the backdrop of the moon’s glory
As its wisdom glows into the metamorphosis of delayed triumphs

Tides rise higher and higher each night
And crash with laughter into the grains of golden sand
Which adorn my shores of renewed tranquility

This is where you come to drown your sorrow
Here is where you live to lose regret
Rebirth emerges and you are forever new in this land

Come quickly to this place where time stands still
Exist beyond the confines of your contemptuous reality
Encounter me if you dare… I am a force to be reckoned with.

Breathe

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Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Breathe

No longer deafened
By the sound of misfit affections
Lessons
Learned
Have taught my heart to listen

My ears hear words which
Charm the forsaken
Transcripts
Taken
Have trained my soul to read between the lines

Pouring through me
The pulse of life intensely
Delivers
Verily
Perspectives of survival laced in beauty

The message relayed clearly
It isn’t wrong because it’s ugly
Everyone
Sees
From their own point of reality

Find your truth
Mine fell off and ran loose
Life
Unraveled
So I could come undone at the end of the noose

Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Breathe

Had the wind knocked out
When the crash came about
Soul
Survived
Arose from the depths to the chosen route

No longer blind
Smiling tears fall down the line
Eyes
Blur
As they gaze upon the grace of the Divine

Blessed be the pure of heart
Lest busied minds their will impart
Be
Still
And slow yourself to start

Refuge knows no weakened wall
When He rescues his daughter’s call
Father
Come
And take me up; suffuse me with your All

Wrapped within an angel’s song
I feel the light of Heaven’s dawn
Heal
Release
And feel it beat ever so strong…

Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Thump-thump
Breathe

Exposed

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I waited…

In the dark,

In the light,

In the haziness in between.

Everything I knew about him was unseen.

Worn like a silk scarf upon my neck,

He was the luxury which could not protect;

Too thin and frail for functionality,

Yet,

The very garment I longed to be wrapped in.

I can’t very well continue to run about naked…

Or can I?

I spy with my little eye…

Something red and something blue,

Something broken and something true;

So I remain bare lest my savior comes through,

For somewhere out there is a cloak for me.

Maybe ambitions ran high when I fancied the silk;

That caliber of man would never take my milk.

My nurturing would be lost on him.

But rugged and strong, from the neck to ankle long

With worn threads and soft patches…

Maybe he I can don;

Take off my skin and slip him on.

In the light,

In the dark,

In the haziness in between;

If I wear him just right, maybe he will see…

Something red and something blue,

Something broken and something true.

And when he spies it, he’ll know what to do

With this naked heart of mine.

Life

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What will I do with this open-endedness called Life?

Sometimes, I look into crystal blue currents

And see deep dark reflections of pasts

Which bombard my vision into the future,

And I have to put shades on.

There’s a thin line between

Seeing what needs to be seen and

Going blind.

As infinitely intricate as it is…

The simplest concept can make one lose their mind.

How many cuts does it take to cry blood?

How many kisses does it take to cry love?

At what point does the lens shatter,

Disabling one’s ability to tell the difference?

Tears from Heaven produce rainbows;

Who knows such coveted treasures

When the clouds clear inside?

Bulbs blow out when the charge dies,

As with all reproduced energy.

Dim the fluorescent lights,

So I can beat my cane against the walls of darkness

Until I feel the burning rays of sunshine on my soul.

The truth burns without sunscreen,

And all the wise man knows is…

How little he really knows.

Life is filled with false imagery and

The more it teaches me,

The further I drift from reality

Because this one isn’t mine.

We all need something to hold onto,

Yet find ourselves repeatedly letting go;

Eventually refusing to embrace anything –

Real, unreal or surreal.

Seeing is the most elusive act of human nature.

Being is the most destructive art of man’s heart.

What role does blind love play

On a universal stage where there is no beginning and no end,

Just scene after scene of poorly written scripts

Scribed by pens with poison-dripping tips?

Who authored me?

To whom do I owe this standing ovation?

Let me remove my shades and reveal these

Eyes of lies you have filled me up with as

I applaud a job well done.

There’s a thin line between

Seeing what needs to be seen and

Going blind.

But you will not have my vision or my mind.

You cannot steal my rainbows or my dreams,

Nor put to sleep my waking

As I burn beneath the beams of truth.

I refuse to let go, for I will only grab hold of

That which grabs hold of me.

I embrace the unwritten destiny of my crystal blue currents,

As I peer through the dark reflections of my pasts

And gaze intensely into the future.

So many cuts,

So few kisses…

But I will float on these rivers of blood

With the greatest of love,

The deepest of sorrow,

And a never-ending joy

For this open-endedness called Life.

Abstract Art

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Sound bites nibble at my brain
as my mind explains
to my heart…
love is an abstract art.
Whether the painter or the painted,
the memoirs reflected
denote rises and falls,
open spaces and block walls
only seen by you.

Every eye takes in
a different scene, and then
professes truths and lies
that formidably reside
in one dimension
that, if mentioned,
will be filtered through layers
of masked naysayers
who appear in the nude.

Transparency is a fallacy.
No matter who the subject be,
every tongue has a coat;
ears hear different notes;
all retinas – their own skin;
each soul a unique end.
Thus, how can anyone measure
the reality of their treasure
when all the world’s askew?