There is an honesty that brings
There is a stained window,
Where looking on a perfect valley
You can find the world, slow
Where rain begins.

You can find there, your worn body
That faces a day
And in some strangeness
You realize, that you are the prey.

I hear the way that people’s brains work out
But the cat of ingestion,
Left me in doubt
Tolerance to life is a certain thing,
But what symbiosis,
What paralytic thought
Could create such a craze?

As raging fires burn around our place
And crashing waves threaten us, unnerve us
Your old ridges and lines, most beauteous
Grant me your strength, as I caress your face
Grant me divine love, your eternal grace
For when our joints grow stiff and cold and ache
When my bones are brittle and start to break
My shaking hands destroy our blames by mace
Wiping all imperfections from our bone
Because here you are perfect, old or new
Here I am close, perfection oh so blue
A great distant sun burns brightly alone

Meteoric silver streaks
In a licorice black sky
An orange flavored moon
Rests on the horizon

Tap, tapping the keys
Awaiting a reply
Communion brings pleasure
Alone nights are long

Magnetic personalities
The attraction is strong
Pulling my mind
Fingers pushing words

Silent voices riding electrons
Charged with emotion
Making music to my eyes
The lone wolf howls

It's as if tons and tons of matter
are thrown upon the airy core,
until they are crushed by gravity,
and packed more solid than lead:

My weak heart does try to lift up,
sail a wind above time's domain
but the scientific wonders sparkle
and I fall back to the virtual lane.

But what does it matter, anyway,
when time even ends the universe.
What does it matter anyway, when
you live and then you are no more.

Soft waves wash across our feet
and wipe our footprints from the sand.
Board walk provides a deep backbeat
from a sixties tribute band.

We've walked along this beach before
and heard the plaintive sea birds cry
as they patrolled this stretch of shore
wheeling within a clear blue sky.

But now my gait is not as fast.
My love slows down because of me
unlike the times far in the past
when we splashed this east coast sea.

Looking for love
wanting romance
I'd love to love you
just give me the chance

No one is perfect
but, I admit that you try
You can't ever achieve it
don't ask me why

I don't understand
my emotions askew
What really is love
what I'm feeling for you?

I've got control
you can't make a move
I'll hurt you, I will
but outside, I'm smooth

You never can leave
don't try to go
If you aren't where you are
I'll surely know

I am now lying on the incline of a levee,
and look up in wonderment at the full sky
which seems much larger, more imposing,
as its third dimension pulls me deeper in.

I am far away from the modern city sky
the constant blinding by light pollution,
away from the high buildings that block
and slice the sky in many assorted angles.

Here, the sound of the mighty Mississippi
drifts on the stilled and syrupy night air,
and the fireflies, quite beautiful at dusk,
are no longer bright masters of the night.

Just like a sponge that immerses in life around her, she absorbs.
A quality that’s bittersweet.
Constant energy caressing her soul;
these days, absorbing more of the bad
realizing she’s growing old.

Divine Destiny hidden
in the cellar of my bones,
like vintage wine, saved
for a special occasion,

or perhaps, forgotten
under dank moldy memories.
Like crochet cobwebs, sins of failure
cling to the label: Not Good Enough.

My palate familiar with a heavy blend
of disappointment and fear;
the aftertaste bitter on my tongue,
I pretend to be numb.

Objectified by my impoverished identity,
I pour a cheap substitute: Shame.
Because once in the glass,
only I know the cost.

Car stopped, head not.