Callous Ending

I scratch out what words I can and pen them to scraps of paper; forging alms and tonics for the hurt I know is coming. I bleed my alchemy and honesty into one final subterfuge...for you have taken the last of me, and now I fear my shadow will stalk you the rest of your days. But my whispers alleviate the most poignant of my memories, for I yet nurture these altricial words and save them until they devour the heartache of your callous ending.

Here With You

I've never loved before...and, my God, it hurts. I've never given so much of me to someone so untested...and I break in the aftermath. I've never jumped so fully into the freefall, only to find no net below. I've never enjoyed so completely my own demise or treasured so close these tears and sleepless nights. I've never cut myself so deep or bled myself so freely as I do for you. And I'd do it all again. I'd brave your indifference and suffer your apathy a thousand times over if that's what it takes for me to earn just one more minute here with you.

Trapped

I'm scared to change who I am,
Terrified to be someone else.
But I refuse to be forever damned,
Trapped and cornered inside myself.

Sideways

I'm learning myself. I'm learning to breathe through the pain. I'm learning to love you despite myself, despite my own inhibitions and insecurities and inadequacies. I'm learning to be vulnerable. And I do it for you. I lay myself bare and cut my soul sideways for you to see me true. I risk that I might share myself with you. And you are teaching me patience in the most excruciating ways. I love you, have always loved you, and I love the person you are forcing me to become. You stretch me beyond myself until I think I must die from the pain of it. But I endure for you, for the chance to see your smile just once reach through the haunting of your eyes.

Over the Edge

There is an impulse I wait for, an abandon coming soon to take me over the edge. There is a storm approaching, a cataclysm looming unavoidable...and I wish it would consume me already. There is a shadow that follows me always, and I can never escape its grasp or catch it in my hand for I cannot give name or substance to the intangible. There is a God who speaks to me in whispers I cannot hear and signs my eyes can never see, so I wander haphazardly from thought to pen to paper...never knowing for whom my words lay themselves down. There is a man I hate to love and regret to write for because my words stay with me always. There is an impulse, an abandon I know is coming to take me over the edge...and I am ready to die, one way or the other.

Silent

It is a selfless thing I do,
My only proof I love you.
This is the best my love can be,
Silent...and quiet inside of me.

For My Daughter

You must learn to know yourself...good and evil, strengths and vulnerabilities...the humors that battle unseen in both heart and mind. Knowing yourself is never easy or fun or optional; it is necessary for your protection and safety and prevention. You can never achieve invulnerability (believe me, I tried); you can only hope to know what evils and sorrows you are susceptible to. And even then there are no guarantees of safety, though the odds of disaster lessen with wisdom.

I knew from the beginning what would happen...and avoided the inevitable for as long as I could. I knew even then the tragedy awaiting me and asked myself then if I thought I could love him...deciding even then that I would rather love a shadow. But the choice wasn't mine to make. In fact, I had surprisingly little input in the matter (at least that's what I tell myself now). I suppose I shouldn't lie to myself...or you either. I let myself love him, though I knew it would destroy me. And I chronicled my journey down for all to see and beware.

Forgive me for these words, this self-serving confession...but I did love him, more than the life and death I knew he'd bring me. I love him still...and always. I loved him more than the God I knew he'd take me from. Yet I went willingly away.

I knew myself better than anyone else could know themselves. I even knew him...as best I could. But there was always the intangible, the shadow that riveted me, the darkness that held me captivated. I knew that I loved the whisper of good and evil, the hint of tragedy lurking unavoidable. For there are some fates unalterable, some roads that, once begun, must be followed to their ending...for better or for worse. But his was not one such road; I could have let him go. I could have bid him turn away from this inevitability at any of a thousand crossroads.

But even in my love I was selfish. Even in my love for him I knew I loved you more. He always feared he would corrupt me, taint me. And I never let him think otherwise. But I knew myself; I knew the road I had already chosen. I loved him from the moment I saw him (if that's even really possible). And I love him still...and always, for he gave me you. I loved him though I knew it would destroy me, kill me slowly.

But I never thought it would take him first.

Sacraments

There are not words sad enough to convey the sacrifice that is coming...or the one that has already been. There are not thoughts tragic enough to compel the tears this inevitability deserves...or the hopelessness this compulsion longs to inflict on you. There are not songs haunting enough or music somber enough to justify their application here. There are not sins desperate enough to save you from this torment...or sacraments powerful enough to absolve you from the guilt that consumes every one of us. There are not gods compassionate or angels attuned enough to these sufferings of man. There are not words sad or prayers audible enough to prevent the horror that is coming...or the one that has already been.

Full Circle

I hate my words for I never have a moment's peace from them. I hate the peaceful silence for I need some distraction from what I feel. I hate what I feel for it makes me vulnerable and susceptible to you. I hate my God for He makes me hurt and suffer and care for those I'd rather be indifferent to. I hate this moment for it hints of that something intangible that I love about you. I hate what I love about you for it escapes me day after day though my words chase after it. And I hate my words for they remind me of you and I never have a moment's peace from them.

Insufficient

My best is not enough. My words are never intelligent enough or wise enough or strong enough to reach you. Nothing of mine can ever persuade you of what is real and true and good. Nothing I say or do can ever give you hope. I am inadequate, insufficient for this task. So I offer you my God and give you the one who is everything I am not. Whatever fragments, whatever scraps of good you find in me are of Him. And I can never do Him justice for He is so much more than I can ever be or know or offer to you. So I give you the original...not just the reflection. And He is enough. He is good and beautiful and holy. Do not look to me for answers or hope or unconditional love...for I will fail you. Look to the one who died...even death could not contain Him. Seek the God who loves you and waits for you...for He will never let you go.

Behind the Glass

My words are elusive, haunting, seductive...but never beautiful or pure or worthy of you. So I put my pen aside in hopes of finding some untainted medium through which I can love you. And I'm trying, trying to find some way to reach out, touch you without breaking this tenuous thread between us. And I dare not write down this truth lest my pen betray me and distort the words I'm trying so hard to justify. I'm letting myself love you...but I fear that the freefall is more than I can bear. So I again turn to my words for protection or release or clarity...but they are elusive and haunting and seductive...and they fail me yet again for I am still condemned to watch you from behind the glass.

Taste

I wish to find a word or thought
Or taste of what is true;
I wish to banish the silence in which I'm caught
And know for certain why I write of you.

Crossroads

My God walks with me through the crossroads,
And I have taken this path for better or for worse...
And I am never the optimist.
My God walks with me and I with Him,
Meandering these vespers and vigils of the night.
For He indulges my need of Him
And whispers angel songs into the darkness,
The darkness I keep inside me.

Turmoil

I should not love you,
But I do.
I should not write for you,
But my words take on a life of their own.
I should not think of you,
But how can I ignore the turmoil of my own soul?
I should not dream of you,
But you visit me again and again.
I should not pray for you or accept this responsibility for your soul,
But the God has put you here where no one else has been.
I should not be here, with you inside my head,
But I cannot help myself,
For this is what it's like to love the unloved.
I should not die for you,
But I willingly lay myself down for the chance to see you seek my God as your own.

Whispers

I cannot bear for the God to look at me or see the words I write for you for they are mere whispers against the wind...and I, I am not even a shadow in the darkness. I cannot face the impotence of my prayers or the inadequacy of what I feel for you...for it is not enough to save you from what is to come. I cannot admit to loving the broken or chasing the phantom for I only want what's best for you...and I dare not taint your haunting beauty or torment your troubled eyes with demons not your own.

Among the Pieces

I love the broken, the shadow of strength among the pieces. I desire the tainted, the whisper of beauty in the darkness. I crave the indifferent, the one who does not love me. I need the riddle I cannot solve, and you are the one beyond my reach. I breathe the words you cannot hear, and I want nothing but to pierce my soul for you. I seek the answers, the God you do not know and offer myself in your place, for I would take your sadness as my own if you could live just one day unbroken.

Write the Shadow

I write the shadow that no one sees, the ambiguity of truth that escapes mortal eyes. I chronicle the journey, the battles that go unnoticed, and save them for you to consume. And I want you to know me as I am, for I am not the innocent and remain no longer the child I once was. But I let you keep your illusions, as I keep mine, though never as fervently as I once did. But I want you to know me as I know myself, so I continue to write the shadow that no one sees.

Interim

You amuse me in this interim, this time between times. And I will never love you for you are but a distraction from the real. And you are perfect for the part, never giving in, never letting go, and yet never satisfying my curiosity or indulging my infatuation. You surprise me every now and again and remain a mirage beyond my reach. So I fixate on the illusion, the slight of hand that misleads my interest and entices my wayward thoughts. I appreciate the distraction you continue to be and will honor you with these tainted thoughts and passive words for as long as you amuse me this way.

The Shadow That Burns

I taste the untrue; the phantom is bittersweet to the mortal palate. I sample the unreal, and the kiss you give could consume the glacial facade. And I emerge scorched, charred by what cannot endure. But you remain unscathed, indifferent to the shadow that burns me from within, the shade that was once my refuge. I taste the unfaithful, the whisper of dreams imagined...and the epiphany we shared lasted forever in the time that was not, for the dream was mine alone and the phantom remembers not the kiss, the motion, the tempered flame that no longer burns. And only I emerged scorched, scarred by what cannot endure.

Epidemic

There is nothing more honest than a tragedy, nothing as true as suffering, for pain is the common denominator of man. And I am foolish enough to seek such honesty and truth. So I seek the tragedy that escapes me...and you cannot hide forever. You must join me and suffer for the good of all, for the enjoyment of life and death and humanity's drawback. I will stay with you through the sickness, the epidemic, for I am forever loyal to the experience. I wash my hands of simplicity and selfishness and satisfaction for the glory of unsung sacrifice and determination for I will have you. I will welcome the misery and once again forego the silent whisper of conscience...

Selfless

If my love didn't destroy everything it touches,
I would love you.
If my heart didn't betray everything it values,
I would give it to you.
If my thoughts didn't consume the life around me,
I would keep them for you.
If my words didn't taint what should be perfect,
I would surrender them to you.
If my body didn't contaminate the honesty of my love,
I would share it with you.
If my inadequacy didn't protect you,
I would curse its damn interference,
But I know from the objectivity of experience
That you are better off without me.

Conflicted

You are the reason I stay away and the reason I come back, for the humanity in me will eventually play its hand and win this round. I love you in my own tragic way and hope the distance I keep will protect you, for I taint all I touch and lose all I love. And you are not immune, only guarded by my better nature...if I have one. And your affection conflicts me. You think me better than I am, and I want to do right by you without doing wrong by me. But the humanity in me will eventually overwhelm all decency and conscious restraint in my pursuit of you. And so you are the reason I stay away and the reason I always come back.

Unbridled Humanity

I consume myself with weakness and unbridled humanity and let the dark shadow of my nature cover all I know of you. I devour all unseen truths and lies and mix the two together until I no longer know one from the other. I assimilate the years between us and overlook the impossibilities for I like my world better than the one that is. I return the embarrassment of my infatuation and the ascetic nature of my pathology for neither were enough to entice your acknowledgement or affection or even a sideways glance.

Infatuated Silence

I blatantly cross the line of decency in my ignorance of my love and truth and honesty. I fall every time for the one I do not deserve and can never have. And the challenge of the impossible, the heartache of the unrequited, holds such allure...for I devour the tragic and feed on the hopeless to sustain my love. And I wish to die for him in some heroic orgasm of bravery and selflessness, for only then could I be noticed and remembered by the heartache of his mind. I marinate in my inadequacy and am consumed by it for I will never deserve him. But I self-examine and condemn my impotencies in my half-hearted attempt at compensation. I love his age, his humor, his unfailing goodness and righteous humanity...but only from the protected distance of infatuated silence for I can never allow my tainted nature to corrupt the man I see and love in this infinite moment.

Addendum

I've lost the words that told me who I am, the ones that brought me to this place. And now I wonder what I'm doing here. I've lost the self-humor that motivated me, the cynicism that I called my stoic realism. I've missed the heartache, the deep abrasion that I allowed to fester and feed my soul. I've waited too long for what I cannot name and ignored one too many times the voice I whispered to myself. Now I've fallen for you by default, or boredom, or lack of anything better to do. And I think I'm infatuated with the difference, with the ambiguity, with the loyalty, with the shadow of dark behind your blue eyes.

But is not for me to love and be loved in return; it is for me to die. Love is merely an afterthought, an addendum to the journey that is already nearing its end. You are a byproduct of this drivel, a mere footnote that I accept as respite from my monotonous wordings. And I appreciate your novelty, your ascetic beauty and troubled eyes, but only as a dying man takes interest in the decay prevalent around him. I am grateful for the dark, for the asymmetric shadow behind those beautiful blue eyes, for I empathize with the tragic and fall in love with the tainted now more than ever. So I admit to loving your mortality and decadence and humanity, but never you, for I infatuate myself with the temporal, the transient, only until I can no longer ignore the culpability of the eternal.

Displaced

...so now I hope to compensate for my mediocre life by dying an exceptional death, one that would be everything my life is not. But even so, I still take the easy way out, for it is easier to die once a worthy death than to live continuously a meaningful life...

One Breath More

The dreams and dynasties die in beautiful arrays of culture
And the age-old apocalypses culminate in time's inevitable tenure
For beauty lasts only a season and life merely a breath more
Until God takes away what was never ours to keep.
But I enjoy the respite while it is yet mine
And build my soul for the cataclysms to come
For God is patient but time is not
And mine speeds closer to its inevitable end.
So I slowly grow my life away and wish it well
For I am as the outsider to the will of God and truth
Though perchance stumble to it without the grace of forethought.
Yet God all-knowing marks my footsteps and holds my hand
Though I know it not as mortally tangible.
So I muddle by grace and infantile faith through the respite
And enjoy the world for just one moment longer
For its beauty lasts only a season and life merely one breath more.

And the Night

And the night calls forth things that might be
Things thought or imagined but never seen
Things only brought to light in dreams
Where the impossible is never as hard as it seems.

Ashton and Joy

The thoughts that accost me in the night
Come in flashes of ashton and joy,
The tragic with the hopeful,
And I cling to the ambivalence between the two...
Death with the living and life with the dying.
For I feel this tragic comedy every night I think of you,
You and what should have been.
All that accosts me in the night is truth unrealized,
And the unreal remains even as the real passes on,
For I am left holding the shadows of what never was
And seeking the contentment of what can never be.
I look for you in the ashes of time and place
Knowing there will never be enough of the past
To transfer even the faintest smile to the present
Or give even a final goodbye to my future.
All that I remember of you accosts me tonight
And I pray for sleep to come take me away,
Sweet dreams to take me from this outpouring of ashton and joy.

Reader

I don't suppose I care who reads my life once I'm dead. I only wish that my words reach the one I have written to, written for...the one for whom I have meticulously, and yet still haphazardly, chronologized my journey. I care not for the ambivalent, for the wayfarer who stumbled upon this tirade. I only seek validation, or perhaps love and communion, from the one, whoever he may be, who reads my heart and knows it as his own. I know not if this conjunction will chance to happen in my lifetime, and the realist in me thinks not. But I do not despair the interference of time or begrudge death his rightful due. I merely sorrow that I could not see your eyes or match your smile with my own. Even so, you will know me and recognize me by my words, and I will know the one who knows me. So until then, my Reader, until then.

Inertia

I've never been the force that drives two apart
Or the voice to calm the windswept soul.
I've never been the love to heal a broken heart,
Only the pen to write of what I do not know.

I've never had the will to move the stars above
Or the power to turn the night into day.
I've never had the strength to say when I love,
Only the silence to wash all such words away.

Affinity

The reasons hide themselves away
From the eyes that seek them out.
I delineate the powers of shadow, and dark obeys
The unspoken affinities of reason and doubt
And so tempers all truth with grey
Building these homespun gods from dust and ash and clay.

More Than the Moon

I loved you more than the moon
And dreamed dreams of you
Rather than watch the stars that guide me.
So now I am lost somewhere beyond;
Farther than the most distant nebula I drift,
Knowing not where I am or where I am heading.
But I would not change a thing
Or trade a dream for a direction
For I know beyond all earthly doubt
That I loved you more than the moon.

The One Passed By

I want to love a shadow
To birth a dream each night
From blood and sweat and screams.
I want each night to writhe and contract
And orgasm with tears and sighs and dreams.
I want to form with my hands and words
A love that can no longer elude my means,
A love that no longer stands far off
To watch and tempt and tease my spirit.
I want to create you as you seem,
As I lived and dreamed you'd be.
I want our ecstasy to rival the gods'
And cause sun, moon, and stars to watch with envious eyes.
I want to earn my place among them
And so no longer remain the one passed by.

Paper and Ink

The true poet has no pride, only the grim appraisal of truth, for he above all others can see himself and through himself see the world. The true poet hides beneath and behind all his words and veiled truths, but never from his own prying eyes, for to see is to know, and knowing compels his ambiguous confessions of words and vapor. The true poet has no companion except his words, for he hides his pain, secretly loving it and cherishing it for the clarity it brings. The true poet is dead to the world and yet more alive than any in it, for he breathes life and death and beauty and horror with every gasp of paper and ink. The true poet lives alone and sleeps alone...as a virgin who loves the whore.

Malcontent

Who is this malcontent inside my soul?
Who is this now who speaks of nirvana
And seeks the daylight of the otherworld?
I, too, would wish to go there
And feel the sunlight touch my spirit
If death were not the doorway I would have to pass through
And life the long-lost lover I would have to kiss goodbye.
No, the malcontent must not win this battle for my soul
And nirvana must await its appointed time
For I still contend with the windmills before me,
Battling again my right to dream.

Mind, Soul, and Spirit

In searching this moment when the sky is tangible and the stars are within my reach, I find myself unable to grasp the words which tumble from my soul. I want so much to create some worthy trinket, some glorious string of words for you, but find every clever thought slips away as I reach for it.

On this night when the boundaries between mind, soul, and spirit become blurred, I fight to blend the power of one with the intensity and passion of the others. For I wish not just to learn, but to grow. And not just to grow, but to feel. And not just to feel, but to know beyond all doubt. And yet this sustains only mind.

In searching this moment when the nights are long and endless and the moonlight dances with the angels, I find I wish to be. But I am not satisfied just to be, I must live. But I am not content to just live, I also must die. But dying is not enough unless I see God. And yet this sustains only spirit.

In searching this moment when the boundaries between heaven and earth are permeable, I know I reach for you. And you make me want to be beautiful. But beauty is not enough. So I want to be perfect, but perfection is not enough. You make me want to be in love, but even love is not enough. No...you make me want to be in love with you. And therein I find the true integration of mind, soul, and spirit.

Disclaimer

I do not write what I believe or what is true. I write what I feel, grasping each moment, each of my fragile emotions as they come to me for they are just as meaningful. I seek to create something tangible from the ephemeral, some token I can return to years down the road. I write to weed out the cancer and remind myself later where I am now. I write for myself. I write for my future. I write for the one I not yet know. And I write for my daughter, if ever I should have her. I write because my soul needs to write and I would be denying who I am if I refused.

True Love

I do not believe that there is only one true love for everyone. I refuse to even consider the idea. I used to believe that this was simply a ridiculously romanticized concept promoted by those who were endlessly looking for "the one" because their weak minds needed to cling to the "happy ever after" fairytale. But my reasons for disregarding the aforementioned principle have changed over the past year and a half. I do not believe that there is only one true love for everyone because deep down I fear that my true love was you. And I let you walk away.

I do not believe in the "happy ever after" either. I believe in moments of complete ecstasy and contentment, but only interspersed between the even longer moments of reality. Perhaps this is why I am one of the extreme few who are not eager to run blindly and stupidly into marriage. I understand the emotions involved. I know that although happiness and joy may be experienced in amplified form, so also the hurt and heartache. And to experience the one is to risk the other. But I am yet content, yet willing to remain here with the mediocre, for I have not yet found someone worth the risk.

Second Chances

To second-guess oneself is the first sign of weakness and the first guarantee of failure. No question should be asked if the answer isn't already known and no venture should be undertaken in which the outcome remains uncertain. Uncertainty births error and error prostitutes herself to failure.

There are no second chances in love; no one can test the water before jumping in...for to test the water or wade in step by breathless step manifests a reluctance, a chance to change one's mind. Only the one who jumps in, embracing total abandon and screaming "Cannonball!" while gasping for air in the freefall, has a chance of ever making love work. And there is still fear, but it is an irrational fear which lasts only in the brief suspension between letting go and plummeting into the unknown.

I cannot love because I cannot jump without knowning, cannot let go without the ground beneath me. I cannot reach out to you when the outcome remains uncertain, when I do not know what my grasping fingers will bring back to me or the response my words will render from you. There are no second chances in love, and I have found that I could not even take the first.

No Us

I cannot say that I love you
For that would imply that I know you
And am known by you.
I cannot say how it might have been or might someday be
For I'm not even sure how it now is.
I cannot say anything about us
Without implying that there is an us.
I cannot say what was always left unsaid
For that would imply words between us.
I cannot say what I do not know,
I cannot create what never was,
I cannot say anything with certainty
Except that there is no us.

Epilogue

On this night I let myself love you
And free my soul to fly where it will.
On this day of memorials I write for you
So come tomorrow I will remember you still.
In this fleeting moment I allow my heart run free
And chase the chasing angel.
In this brief respite I hold you above all others
And hope beyond hope that tomorrow you love me.

Alchemist

I've run out of ways to say I love you
And forgotten how to speak even those few words.
I've erased every poem written for you
And burned every letter I sent.
I have purified my body and my soul
And waited my allotted time outside the city
And still you come to me at night,
Still you visit my dreams and give me words,
Words which are seared on my heart
And imbedded in my mind forever.
It seems the alchemist remains yet unable
To cure himself.

You

There is an innocent smile I wait for,
A wink for only me to see.
There is a moment coming slowly
That will define all that is and will be.
There are two hands that reach out,
Two eyes of the ocean's grey-blue.
And I dream each night of all of these,
All of these remembered fragments of you.

His Shadow

You are no longer a person to me,
More an idea immortalized through time.
You no longer have a voice or a face,
Only a name I remember you by.
You are no longer my travesty, my Romeo,
Now just another tragedy that plays in my memory.
You are no longer as great as you once were
And could be again.
But who knows?
Perhaps a year from now I will no longer remember you at all.

Antipathy

I curse my soul for its weakness
And inability to fly away to you.
I despise my body for these limitations
That prevent me from touching your face
Or kissing your fingertips or breathing your smile.
I berate my words for their ambiguity
And my mouth for failing to speak even these.
I punish what I am, what little you see,
For I was never enough to make you stay.

Decadent

Angels of heaven avoid me here today
And demons of earth dare not come near
For I would tear the wings off spiritual beings
And damn forever their eternal souls.
With my hands I would blot out the stars
And reverse every celestial orbit
That dares get in my way.
On this night I would curse you if you were here,
Perhaps even name you to Satan's own,
Committing your soul to my decadent nature.
Yes, on this night I would free myself of all constraints
And let my true self run rampant
If I thought that come tomorrow
All that is left of me would somehow be worthy of your love.

Blind

You do not notice me or watch me with your ice-blue eyes
As I watch you with my brown-green.
It does not matter that I observe your every move
For I think I would love you sight unseen.

Melody

So the fading music has vanished completely
And a new dance begun to the silence...
But I am the only one dancing
For the melody plays on in my head.
On and on it goes while I dance and dance
Unable to distinguish between real and imagined,
Imagined or no.
But I dance despite the uncertainty
Because I am afraid to let the music go.

Humor's Shadow

The cheerful shadow of humor covers my face
Protecting me from raw emotion and open wounds.
The freefalling spirit within smiles the alchemist's smile,
Carefully masking uncertainty and doubt...
For I would free myself of gravity's hold
And toss away these earthly restraints
If I thought it would make a difference to you.
I would destroy humor's shadow
And emerge from behind the masked brightness
If you would see me through different eyes.
But, alas, I must cling to the protection of laughter
And humor and gravity's certainty
For you have already seen me and known me
As I am known by all earthly eyes.

Transition

I appreciate the distance you are from me
Where land and sea and sky protect us from each other.
I am grateful for the years between us
Separating ethereal man from tangible woman
For the two cannot exist together
Except by the fleeting transition from awake to sleep,
And sleep to dream, and dream to dream to awake again.
I am indebted to the galaxies of stars
Watching you then me then you again
For you are safe from me and me from you
And only God and angels can observe us together.

Asceticism

I choose the heartbreak;
I willfully love those I cannot love
And chase those who fly with the wind.
I live for my heartache and through my heartache live
For my words are my soul's breath
And through my pain I breathe
Gasping in virgin air before it too leaves me.

The Difference Between Us

You are out of my reach
And so I stretch feeble hands toward you.
You are deaf to my whispered voice
And so I speak your name in the dark night.
You are oblivious to my words
And so I dedicate my poetry to your honor.
You are now far away, farther away than ever,
And so I choose to remain here.
You are unavailable, unable to love me
And so I love you the more
And, in so doing, I make up the difference between us.

Repercussions

On this most ordinary evening, I open my heart to your presence
And wait in fearful patience for you to speak glories to my soul.
In the fragile air I feel the vibrations of your Spirit near me
And the repercussions tremble my tired spirit and finite words,
For I know the failings I cradle in the essence of my humanity.
I know the darkness you see in the shadowed corners of my thoughts.
I know the weakness manifest here in my earthly body.
On this most extraordinary evening, I open my heart to your presence
As with unending patience you speak heaven's glories to my soul.
The fragile air rends in two as your Spirit draws near to me
And the repercussions change my tired soul and human words.
And in this moment I know beyond all earthly doubt
That you have always been here.

Unrequited

I carry the willow branch to my grave
And use it as a bower for my coffin.
I weep with it as I stand at the water's edge
Looking across the expanse to Elysium's shore.
I test the water and wade in waist deep,
Holding the bower above my head
Lest the current wrench it from my grasp.
I hold tight to my willow branch, my unrequited love,
For it is the bower for my coffin
And I will carry it to my grave.

Candor

Please, just one more dream before I awaken,
One more poem before this night is over.
I need one more verse before the song has ended
And one more dance before the music fades.
I ask God for one more glimpse of you before I leave
And perhaps even one more smile.
If it's not too much trouble,
I would ask for maybe one more cup of coffee,
One creamer, no sugar.
But I am too timid to ask God or man for anything
So I content myself with the cloud-strewn sky
And cold, foggy morning.
I fidget here with these words
And use them to bandage my caustic soul and wounded pride
For my audacity has frightened away your candor
And negated all the feeble wishes of this night.

Disappointment's Table

Disappointment steals its cold fingers over this evening hour
Shadowing reminiscings of cookies and coffee,
Leaving the one without the other.
I dance around symbolism's union and dust's remains
Killing passing time and wayward souls
To appease the gods of irony and misfortune.
And the polar vices share disappointment's table
And drink to tragedy's dominion,
Toasting together today's triumph over the two of us.

Wind and Space

The love of my life sleeps now
With dreams and visions to accompany his soul away
To another world and time than this.
I pray his world peaceful.
I pray his visions beautiful.
I pray his dreams allow him return to this world.
The love of my life has passed from this night
And my words chase after him,
Echoing silently through empty wind and space,
Calling God and angels govern this nighttime air
And cradle his reluctant soul.
I pray my restless words reach him
Before morning and sunshine and pragmatic thought
And so leave my silent echoes
In the furthest remnants of his nighttime dreams.

Disassociative Thoughts

Moments of inspiration come unabated when you've gone
But all coherent thought dissipates when you're here.
I would commend you if you thought me a fool
For I am when you're here.
I gurgle and stutter and force out disassociative thoughts
And would laugh at myself if it were anyone else but you.
See here, now I express myself most eloquently,
But you will not see these words of clarity
For I crimmell and arrangelesh and stumpher
Whenever you come near.

Apathy

I make myself comfortable in my apathy
Waiting patiently for some cataclysm to change me,
Compel me to become greater than I now am.
I wait for my soul to emerge its chrysalis
And change the world to come.
I sit and rot in my cocoon
While I wait with saber in hand
To cleave truth from lie and patience from apathy.
I dream and philosophize and plan my life away
While I wait for some cataclysm to change me.

Impotent

Calm, collected sighs exhume the life from here
For the sound of your breathing has reached my ears
And I wish to kiss your lips and steal your breath
In the shadowed darkness of this hallway.
Every little movement reminds me how close you are
And yet I am not so bold as to join you this night
Although I wish to and could if so inclined.
But I waste my time and yours once again
Delaying just long enough to render myself impotent,
Impotent of courage or impotent of abandon...
I know not which.
But I am not impotent of words
Which have once again replaced any true semblance of life.

Repressed Emotions

My body struggles in its subconscious battle
To understand its own history,
The wars and battles fought on graceful terrain
And fertile soil.
My words wrestle with repressed emotions
Vomiting former sins and sacraments
To their respective gods of wood and porcelain.
My soul strains against earthly attachment
To attain heavenly blessing,
The forgiveness and cleansing of human flesh
To the glory of God.

Fallen Spirit

With uninspired words I rend my soul apart,
Manipulating verbal daggers to twist the wound deeper.
I injure myself in ascetic temperance;
I berate my weakness and ineffectual prayers
For I have no inspiration but that which is gone
And will not return.
So with sarcastic humor, I cleave body from soul
And soul from fallen spirit
Letting go of the hope and love that kept my inspiration alive.

Atlantis

The dry sands of words and worlds past
Reverberate with echoes of Atlantis...Atlantis.
For lands and cities and worlds and words
End in violent cataclysms
Where faint and ambiguous reflections
Are scattered upon wind and sea
Until the wanderer, the traveler, the elder druid
Gather the remnants in faithful, but futile, attempt
To remember the ancient lands
And dry sands of words and worlds past.
But the living care not for elder Atlantis
For the lost and dead and dying worlds
Have pacified nature's fury and demand for sacrifice
And the gods and lords of the ancient
No longer rule and reason and command
The devotions of industrial man
And woman and communication's child
Where fire and brimstone and judgment seat
Are now but epics and tales and revelations
Of tomorrow's coming end.

Bittersweet

The bittersweet comes to cradle and paw and lick open wounds
Where every escape from the monotone present
Brings also former guilts and graves
And deaths of multicolored lives.
So I dream of men and minions
And the great leaders lost
Or forgotten or dropped along the way
Where these precious reminiscings cause tremors
And tears and occasional grey blasphemies
For I have lost the great;
I have chosen loves and lies
And the fleeting fictions within.
And so come the bittersweet tears
Of memories and sorrows, hallucinations and dreams
For even here and even now the past always must follow.

Soulmates

Two lovers were born of one flesh and one soul
Destined to find each other
In this lifetime and the next.
But the gods were careless in their task
And the separate halves of one
Were birthed two decades apart.
But as tragedies go, this was one lesser
For the first half of one never knew
He lived and loved and missed his soul's other portion.
But the second knew and watched and sorrowed
At the lifetime separating her from her completion.
For her soulmate was near but unreachable,
Visible but untouchable to her mortal hands.
So she honored him with eloquences
And placated his unknowing soul with psalms
And sonnets and grieving words
Biding passing time
Until the failure of this their lifetime
Becomes lost in their awakening in the otherworld,
An eternity where halves are whole
And soulmates are found in each other.

The Body and the Soul

Ethereal dreams enter sleep to haunt
With images of falling beyond time's black hole
Visions and nightmares and demons now daunt
The tie that binds the body to the soul.

A wisp of smoke, the faintness of morning vapor
Is as the certainty of my next breath
Where I fight and struggle to command to paper
A word, a line to last beyond my death.

A sonnet, a bard, a man's ethereal prayers
Reverberate souls of men as words go by
Till angels ascend and descend these stairs
While loyalties and loves and all must die.

Grey

All cleverness ends in this hour
As I honor you in silences
And pray fervent cadences
Within the confines of matters grey
Where I succumb to imagination's power
While I now rest to sleep my dreams away.

Refracted Words

I taste your refracted words in my mouth
As I mull them over and spit them out
In fragments of their former glory.
We paper cut fingers
And bind them together
As the blood and pus blend to one.
And the wounds will not heal
And the travesty grows
Until the monads of life pour out
In this blood covenant of words,
Words of blindness and falsified wisdom.
So now in futile preparation
We carry crutches and bandages
And antiseptic words
To purge our impurities
And cleanse our wounds enough
For holistic healing to begin.

Riddle

I have given name to what I refuse
A name for the silent poem
I decline to write
For I cannot admit my inadequacy
Or the way I sleep to dream.
I have given name to my acrimony
A name I dare not whisper
Let the gods hear
And condemn my soul to endless exposition
Where you are even now listening
To the endless poem I decline to write.

Visions

Visions are yet given
Not as transitory wish or futile perception;
Visions come as haunting dream,
Awakening life,
Creating purpose in the yet ordinary.
Visions taste as gods' blood,
The death of what can die
And life for the eternal.
Visions are yet given,
Sacred words to the chosen,
And mine are for me alone.

Cancer

I dread what I write
For it is the painful eradication
Of the cancer in my soul.
I fear what I dream
Where I am given insight
Into my own darkness.
I cringe at what you see
What you read of me
And I know your thoughts
For they judge me
Even as I judge myself.

Refuge

I seek solace
Refuge
And yet there is none
I am tortured and tormented
And no one cares to read my eyes
So I walk alone
Wandering aimless
Seeking my next tragedy
Though none can surpass
The death in me now
I seek solace
Refuge
Knowing there is none for me
But I will not cry
For death is a peaceful thing

I love you in my sleep
Where we have already met
And lived and danced together.

Injustice

At my window I watch
Watch in wonder
As purity snow descends in blankets
To hide the earth from the sun.
At the doorway I wait
Wait in anticipation
For the snow to give pause in splendor
To facilitate the heartbreak to come.
At the house I listen
Listen in silence
Where the blessed snow lies trampled
To symbolize the injustice I have done.

Dirge

Who is the stealer of my poetry,
The man of whom I have no words?
Who is this, this temptation
With whom I must dance this dirge?
Alas, the dance has ended
And my words returned
And I am none the less
For having loved and lost.

The Battle Continues

The eyes of tears no longer smile
No longer dance with spontaneous mirth
For war steals across my land, my home,
Raping American prairies
And stealing her joy.
The eyes of America no longer smile;
Children die in battle where they fight
Hopeless to save their dream,
The American dream,
Dreams which have been stolen from the sleeping giant,
Who now wakes to nightmare.
But arise, O giant, and call to God
For the battle continues and we will die,
But let us die glorious
For each other, for our beloved nation
And for the God of our infancy.
Let those who destroy us know
Who we are and why we fight to die
For our humanity is our glory
And our martyrdom is our last hope for freedom.

Where the Gods Dance

No one can see the way I love a man
For to know is to be and to be to live
And life is a cup not taken by many
For life is the abandon of restraint
And the embrace of impossibility.
Life is where the gods dance and dance they will
Until a mortal forsakes the constraining wound
And drinks the cup.
No one can see the way I love a man
For I have tasted the draught
And consumed all but what I left for you.

Gauntlet

My dreams run away from me
Every time I close my eyes
And I chase after them
Running an endless gauntlet
Where at the end I fall, fall forever
Until I see my dream again
And I run after it
Chasing it away.

Willing and Eager

I will run
Farther and faster
Than I've ever run before.
I will hide
Darker and lower
To escape these demons of war.
I will drown
Broken and consumed
By this melancholy outpour.
I will love
Safer and slower
To not suffer this way once more.
I will escape
Deeper and farther
From the destruction that's in store.
I will die
Willing and eager
To enter at last through this door.

Dark Skies

Let all dreams be forgotten
And all fantasies put away.
May imaginations grow dull
And loves wither and die
For my eyes cannot see you
And my heart cannot bear your smile.
My poetry can never satisfy your dreams
And my kiss can never touch your lips.
So call the stars down from heaven
For they have no right to brighten dark skies.
Demand the sun to sleep forever
And the moon to hide away
Since my love wanders lost, unfulfilled without you
And yet dying in your presence.

Allure

When the nights last forever
And there is no chance
That you will hear me,
I speak your name aloud
To God.

When the sweet songs of summer
Harmonize around me
And I am alone on the grass,
I explain the allure of your smile
To nature.

When the solemn stars accompany me
And there are no witnesses
To condemn my love,
I trust my words of you
To poetry.

What Dreams May Come

What dreams may come
To haunt in cold, dark night
From the depths of hell my love become
Blind to the visions of hope in sight.

What nightmares may be
Living after life, eternity begun
In the heights of heaven my misery
Forsaking paradise to restore this love undone.

What leader leads onward to hell
Seeking life for the one who died
A fool's fool and I might as well
Stay condemned to my love's suicide.

What dreams may come
To restore light to hell's dark door
Returned to paradise my love become
Complete and entwined here once more.

What If...

What if there were a star I could not touch
Because my heart was bound to earth?
What if there were a trophy I could not win
Because my body was limited to pain?
What if there were a dream I could not dream
Because my soul was chained to tangible?
What if there were a God I could not see
Because my eyes were confined to finite?
What if there were a poem I could not write
Because my thoughts were captive to man?
What if there were a destiny I could not achieve
Because my love was condemned to you?

Dreamers

Dreamers dream the dreams of fools
Forbidden passions and passion's desire
Seeking endless paths for love eternal.
But awake the dreamers and hide their dreams
For the love they seek is only illusion
To warm the lonely and console the unloved.
Awake to world of broken hearts and dying love
And forget the coming prince charming
For he has chosen a princess over you.

Precipice

I dance in freedom, teasing the precipice,
Mocking the danger of falling for you.
I stare into the face of oblivion,
Laughing at the death awaiting
For I am free to choose my dying wish.
And that which kills me is what my heart desires
And that whom I love is the man who writes my epitaph.

Unseen Courage

No one can see the calling
I know as my own
Nightmare of war and pain
Leading the children of my country
To their premature appointment
Before the throne of God Almighty.
Yet I live on,
Always surviving,
Willing myself to fight unhindered
Until, as all those before,
I die in the glory of unseen courage.

Dead Roses

I want to find myself
Lost in your thoughts,
Hidden in a secret place
Where I can touch your smile
And hold your heart
In my bloodied hands.
I want to see you there
Waiting for me
With a dozen dead roses
Symbolizing our love eternal.
I want to find myself there
Creating my own words,
Writing my own epitaph
From the poetry of my endless days.

With This Ring

These hands touched the sky,
These lips kissed the heavens,
This soul danced with the angels,
And this heart cried the rain.
But none captured my essence,
None could draw my purpose
For I am not confined to the celestial.
What heaven cannot give me I ask of you:
To arrest my life
And imprison my soul with your own;
Cuff my hand to yours with this ring
Till death do us part.

Poet

If I were an artist,
I would capture sky on canvas,
Clouds from oil.
If I were a musician,
I would create heaven from song,
Eternal from ephemeral.
But I am a poet,
And I find me in words,
Soul from paper.

The Living Dead

Words from the dark
Music of the night
My poetry exposes my soul
To your cruel delight.

Desire consumes the heart
Passions writes blood red
Your love unites my soul
To the living dead.

Kissed by Heaven

I am the best of every world
Kissed by heaven, made by earth.
I am favored by my God
Since the day of my birth.

I am joyous throughout my days
Content even in times of sorrow.
My ways are as God's ways
And so they will be tomorrow.

I understand the hard times of pain
I know the seriousness of laughter.
I am perfect like the rain
And will remain so ever after.

God made me the best of this world
Kissed by heaven, yet made from earth.
I am favored by my God
Since the day of my birth.

Tears for an Audience

Painted faces twirl around the stage;
I am held captive by their dance.
Gripped by emotion written on an empty page,
I feel led to take this chance.

A circle of hands welcome me home;
I have found my belonging place.
I no longer need this simple poem;
I live with a painted face.

I dance with a desire to feel,
My tears prevented by this painted mask.
No longer the tears that heal,
True happiness is all I ask.

Emotion is held by an empty hand;
I do not find that which I seek.
No longer having the strength to stand,
Empty tears fall down my painted cheek.

Echoing laughter emits a hollow sound
As I return that which I cannot keep.
Leaving my mask there on the ground
I find joy in the ability to weep.

When the Night

When the night rules the day,
When the sky recedes from the heavens above,
When my beauty fades away,
What will happen to our love?

When spring life arrives as dead,
When fear replaces basic trust,
When no words are left to be said,
What will become of us?

When the light is overcome by the dark,
When spring is hindered by winter's snow,
When the hawk kills the meadow lark,
Will our love still show?

When the seasons no longer run together,
When no one is willing to give,
When the night reigns forever,
How long will our love live?

When the rain ceases to fall,
When the birds refuse to sing,
When between friends there grows a wall,
To whom will I then cling?

When darkness comes to rule every day,
When the earth overpowers the heavens above,
When all other life fades away,
What will happen to our love?