Course: Dead End

All she yearned for was free
except herself.
Unequivocal sinking.

fight the feeling 
dug 'n deep
all consuming news
respects nothing that matters

her once stitched heart
embroidered joy
around the fireplace
now vacant stares shadow eden

a cornered life
man seeks plagues
against minds hanging by threads
creation suffers exhaustion

a world unhinged
I long to relieve my mind's weariness and spiritual turmoil. And when i wake up i hope this has all been a bad dream.

I don’t want to dream a better world. I want to be a better person. I was on that road and soon enough a barrier was erected. Don’t talk or touch another person.


Moth Wings

Dedicated to a faithful friend.
My eyes flicker in the light.
I venture closer
to find you quiver
pencil lines draw a smile
where my lips once drew life.

A beam shines behind you
me dressed in blue.
We watch our dance
in front of a door
hinged by crafted iron
while shoes fit for horses
don our feet.

We gallop off
to find refuge
in silk threads
and pray our faith shelters
a promise made
a few days before
the doctor diagnosed
our heartbreak.


Sneak peek.
(A new project in the works.)
This time
hangs like ecstasy
which drives the bike wheel
round the bend
curves me
and i stare into the glass

the clanking ice cubes
cool me down
enough to hear the wing span
of a hummingbird
whirl past
where lessons see us
standing arm in arm.

When life sends signals we must drop our basket full of good intentions and empty it of what leaves us unsure. Then refill the empty spaces with gems unbridled. New words will form new thoughts and the road addresses the change. Come walk with me as I explore this landscape. You are most cordially invited.

The first of the year was a foggy agony. I immediately recognized the old seeping into my bones. The rattling knees swayed in tepid breeze. Then, friend’s voices spoke gently to remind me all is well in the end. So I hang hope on the clanging door. The transition from once to hence continues on. Peace.

In Deep Surrender

The time seems right
to move forward on dreams.
The trees 
uprooted and ever moving
a ruddy rouge
my dead giveaway.

The mud cakes my face
a promise to remove blemishes
while you watch from afar
and I crouch at the grave.

“Listen to the sun sparkle.”
A flame on this stick.
I fizzle, barely noticed
sending you mixed messages.

Moon Speak

You truly deserve all accolades you receive and not just from me. You are a steady hand, holding your pen. And if you feel otherwise, it does not show.

I agree with you about words. They are fickle. But only between my clutched hands. No taming them for me. They speak back and demand attention even when i try and confine them to secrecy.

They talk back and demand they be heard for my health. And my damnation. Wrestling words is not for the faint of heart and believe me i am a weak vessel to carry these words across the choppy waves. I desire peace but get mired in chaos daily.

I am a simple fool who believes love will always save the day!

Iron Sharpens Iron

timid soul sparks light
a feeble space to wonder
sharpen iron words

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

Love Wars

Avoidance of pain. I’m realizing how i am trying my hardest not to feel and yet feeling deeply. I’ve let my mind wander. And I’m not sorry at all, to you, for gifting you value.

I like being in your space. And i know you’ve told me to go. Not in words but in other ways. And I still ignore. I knock. And wait.

I never meant to fall in love. I’m reeling. In circles I’ve taken, in towards your heart. And left you to fend off the tangled web I wove.

There is but this and I adore you.

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