Au dessus

the grains scratch the incorrect way
the capillaries burst and now it gives sway
blood congealed with thick human pain
a skyline filled with red and black rain

a Marianas trench of wounds
an Everest of angry swoons
a little sign of darkness falls
to torch the writing on the walls

we force it onto each other's soul
the final purity's burning coal

goes

out

Sinuous as any snake
the tendrils of temptation
Sweet frosting on the cake

Having more than you can eat
and saving some for later
Something you can't beat

Fermentation of dreams come true
Wishes almost fulfilled
but not for every man's view

Oh, what wonders I can dream
here in my solitude... my space
The milk above the cream

Safe in the mind, no one can hear
the screams of suffocation
No sound will reach your ear

I stand there, looking onwards
The grass twirls, dances at my feet
The grey clouds, wait patiently in silence
Not approaching, merely there
A prelude, to a time yet to arrive
The cool wind, promises rain
Onwards lies, a distant fireplace
A place to rest, my weary eyes
A quiet river, softly serenades
It's running water, an orphic turquoise blue
I stand there, breathing deeply
Tears cascade, crawling down
Feelings bubble, a new completion
I found the place, I can call home

I
My blood houses the melody,
My skin the harmony,
My being the complete symphony
I am the creator and the created,
The art and the artist

Sounds creating a vast canvas in my mind
It’s painterly waves submit imprints
Increasing tenfold in sharp echoes
While floating and drifting through tandem thoughts
Stringed voices dance through my striatum
Overwhelming and audible, all I can do is
Keep breathing
Entropy decreasing,

Glass poetry

Autumn harsh an omen carried
Lively growth claws out through green grass
earth grows armour we have buried
for winter's screech and snowy brass

There above you see the meaning
and feel the vacancy of freeze
words suggest but go careening
What better use have we for these?

The higher truths the artists seek
are bound in metaphors' dark sheet
for reasons known when poets speak
the rift of mind to hand to beat

With all the meaning sensory
Mere words become illusory

Ron

Thoughts.
Infinite whispers, in the timelessness
The soul stilled in the silence
The sands pour no more.
Past and future have faded,
Only the serenity of The Void.

...

My heart pounds, undulating the dark
The firmament stills,
for a moment.

Breath held for an eternity
breaks the slumber
The Earth shivering at the ancient expiration
Wraiths wail at the swelling tempest
Whispers of the awakening thunder the air

I stare into the rays,
A face.
No more than a rumor in the mind
A face that peeks through the sun,
as it's strewn across the leaves
Long since it was forgotten.
Now a ghost, in a mind that is lost.

I can only reminisce
at having had the memory
My mind grasps at the whispered thought,
mere apparitions in my hand.
Where are they?
Where are they?!
Lost.

The song still plays...

Memories not preserved
Skeletons without tendons.

And when time is reversed.
From the beginning,
We can tell the ending.

For there's nothing
To look forward to
In the future
Of a past that was never there.

Memories not preserved
Bones without flesh.

Memories not formed.
Can never be rehearsed.
It is never old,it is never fresh.

For it was never made
It never met time.

So we stare at nothing
Looking past forgotten oblivions
Looking right
Into empty frames.

Whenever l am quiet
l gain ways to comprehend,
l listen more intently
and hear the message others send.

Mental clutter seems to dissipate
my very instincts are more clear.
l understand my friends, and family
so my heart holds them more dear.

l focus so much better
when distractions fade away,
my expectations follow suit
so emotions can't betray.

At my best l am a listener
an observer l become,
providing me keen insights
that alludes not all, but some.

Unimaginable suffering
Felt by the crew and passengers
Of Boeing 777....

So much trauma, tragedy
Planes falling from the sky
Bombs bursting everywhere ....

Tears on faces
Blushing tracks still mourning
Fatality of loved ones ....

Terrorism, tragic events,
Natural disasters
Takes a toll on individuals ..,.

Living in these last days
Critical, hard to deal with
2 Timothy 3:1-4 ....