I can’t find the time I left in the past
but I can feel the loss
an intense emptiness
articulated calmly
nudity on display for a prudish audience
What is lost is not gone
there is still a place where it was
even now it takes up space elsewhere
encouraged to let it go
No.
I feel it still.
A cocoon houses secrets within
horrific with ambiguity
who I was will never be again
who I become is lost in abstract
What I will be must fight its way out
find strength that had never existed
move in ways that were once unnatural
force the undefined to be exact
I feel the seams needed to break out
the walls that throttle becoming thin
a world outside waits expectantly
the time approaches when I must act
but the walls of my home breathe with doubt
the world at its end as I begin.
Muted tones
sound
an empty coffee cup
smoke stretching out in the air
peace amidst the violence
it smells like decades waiting
and feels like a tight rope frayed
thoughts accumulate
regrets dulled by time
sweetened by memories.
The sun creeps in
millions of miles away
alone in darkness
burning.
Be loved now,
the world wars on regardless
living your life anyhow
Lives we live
are borrowed from time bidden
subtle sorrows that years give
Soon stolen
from beneath these broken feet
the long journey has swollen
Grieve the road
the disheveled rocks and stones
knives against the heavy load
See the trees
that line the path with their arms
embracing all the eye sees
Feel the sun
flow over you in fountains
know the place where life begun
Inside you
there exists always a choice
two voices you can pursue
Disavow
time is tentative circles
it’s enough to be loved now.
Hold on to that thought
before it slips away in the night
lest this all be forgot
When that bright light is caught
despite its erratic flight
hold on to that thought
Though the fight may leave you distraught
grip that radiance tight
lest this all be forgot
When all those wars have been fought
you’ll long for these lost delights
hold on to that thought
Though we may veer from the plot
let not the goal leave our sight
lest this all be forgot
For when finally we resign to rot
entrust those you love with this fatal plight
hold on to that thought
lest this all be forgot.
Rest beneath the firmament
pupate
a muted corona
haloed by rocks
and ephemeral colors;
hues of blue
and red invasions,
burning.
“What can you make of this?”
hunting words
desperation
Sex at the end of a species;
A thread like that pulled
will sow seeds of violence
when the deem it time for planting.
[Warning]
Settled into embrace
the soft night performing
like a moment of grace
while the world is storming.
[Caution]
The wind is a cool breeze
that finds tempers softened
sets errant minds at ease
and calms the heart often
[Beware]
Find slumber in slow thoughts
treat the days past with care
the battles you have fought
are no cause for despair
[Danger]
And once sleep settles in
blanketing your anger
you can begin again;
the whole world a stranger.
Woe to the cacophony
the soundscape that permeates
tearing through space like star shine
bludgeoning our ears bloody.
I offer my life as is
if it will give us quiet
allow the mind to slumber
the lungs to breathe easier
the eyes to rest in curtains.
The horrors beyond these lids
consume the light eagerly
ask for seconds knowingly;
there is nothing left to us.
Would that its hunger found me
and I be devoured too.
Please, nothing, take me with you;
all the peace I’ve ever known
lived only while I did not
and died as I left the womb.
Brown is a stale companion as it turns
yet the foundation for complexity
by which all eyes have in time grown to yearn.
Brown embraces those who fight desperately
to find the cosmos in this entropy
encouraging them to rise up and bloom
to take ownership of their destiny
all endings are beginnings when exhumed.
Red is a passionate lover that burns
with a terrifying ferocity
however with patience one will soon learn
the chaos of love is no enemy
what it takes it returns in ecstasy
find a place for the heart and give it room
let it find refuge in the revelry
all endings are beginnings when exhumed.
Green is the friend never given but earned
a destination built on empathy
divined from the expression of concern
and emboldened by generosity.
Green will break walls with its tenacity
upturning even the most concealed tomb
tragedies reduced in this necropsy;
all endings are beginnings when exhumed.
Colors come together in melody
the bouquet of life becoming perfume
our experiences in harmony
all endings are beginnings when exhumed.
Where do the words go
when I stop writing?
Surely they are somewhere
beyond my reach.
Do they mourn my loss
as I do theirs
or are they resigned
beneath the shade of patience
celebrating this moment of peace?
Is peace so important to the mind
that it can end the purpose I’ve given it
find its own and leave us both tortured
or has the mind instead
found itself lost and the words with it?
There is horror in silence
lament the empty page
but forget the mind,
that was lost long ago.
Grow Gray With Me 