I had a feeling, once, when the Earth moved,

that a kiss would lead to promise, just as young girls do;

I had a feeling, but I didn’t know how to be misled

I moved from city to city with a lost limb, pleading as it bled.

Loss ran thick and hot down my bed, my room, my street

My bedroom an abattoir,

My blood beneath the sheets.

Sunday brings something

sinful to me, something simple, something slight.

lacking luster, lacking delight.

i wonder if, the pain will cover me-

in waves again.

Sunday brings something,

sinful to me, a strange empty, a feeling

which mocks the freedom, the freedom of everything,

as solitude rings into my ears. Something does

not feel right today, something feels like,

a slender thread tied to a disaster.

Pain comes in oceans, it comes in waves, it feels sharp

like broken glass or little shark-teeth, as the window brings the light.

Life feels strange, as a dog scratches, at my door again.

Life feels like something sinful,

something shocking but so hard,

to really remember,

the de ja vu,

have i been here before? Have i heard this before? A dream, which surpasses,

all memory.

in a flash of light without magic mirrors

without black smoke

i awoke.

in a passing state of…

Glorious writings from my pen
Feelings unleashed from being in silence
Recorded untold stories of men
Reaches the isle of paradise fence

Words of wisdom speak deeper like the sea
Generous words from God & sheer memory
For all the years will pass it’ll always be
Inspirations to everyone in fair reality

Hideous unspoken words revealed
Blinded fettered world unsealed
From my pen and soul weary heart’s will feel
Freedom of their feelings from being chained

A sedulous gift reassures the land

Ensconced in icy powders

night unlocks silence

and kindles the sky

the cedar trees, the riverside, the school, my house,

everywhere, everywhere

We sit on the floor

Like two bugs in a cave

Small, alone, together,

In a deep dark world

The radiator within me

Burns to leak out that

I – I – I…

I wish that you should rot!

The way that you wrinkle the hands of time

To always make it fly away

Your ability to rain on the dirt

And make the mud run coldly through my bare toes

The jagged hole you’ve drilled in my mind

That can be filled only with ravenous cement

Aching for the stench of your poison

That feeds the bloody channels running through my prison

The abrasive blade you use

To cut through every bar guarding my cells

The steel wrench you use

That cracks me to whisper that I

I

I…

Another evening, as the light grows dim,
And crystal cold air crackles around the black oak,
The last few sparrows dart and chitter, grabbing one last seed.
Snow drifts down, silent, peaceful and dreamy.

In the dark come the dreams of sun and green.
In the petrifying cold come vague sensations of softness and warmth.
Behind the frozen puffs of breath come phantom whiffs of rain and trees in bloom.
In the deadly grey and black of night come fantastic visions of flowers dancing in the wind –
.     Tulips, jonquils, scillas, snowdrops –
.     Red, yellow, blue, white –
.     White as snow.
Another February night drifts into snowy blackness and dreams of spring.

February 2013