New life grows Within; When the chrysalis finally falls away, What will emerge?
Why do I even write these days? Why do I try? Why do I try as hard as I do when clearly there are more effective and efficient approaches. Someone has it figured out... Not me. I see so many others who write poems that reach audiences of hundreds or even thousands. I see … Continue reading The Fall of the Vapor Mystic, Part IV (What We Do for Love)
What weighs on the heart Is heaviest of all, For a burden on That vital part Can bring us down, Overall, Can remind us That we are So very small. Hope remains, Here as in all other ways, Just as the darkest nights Often lead to the brightest days. For what is heavy on the … Continue reading What Weighs on the Heart
This morning I woke to Memories Of dreams from the night before. I remember that I dreamt of you, Ariele. I dreamt that I was finally able to visit Brazil, And we sat for coffee in a small shop. We talked for many hours Of all things that we talk of now But we could … Continue reading Something for All Those Who Have Been There
I tried to play a song today On an antique wooden piano; I must admit, I know now the first thing about how to do so But neither do I really know How to be this mess of flesh and bone we call "human", Yet here I stand still, So I figured I would give it a shot.
Where once the salamanders Came to crawl and make their beds Along the flowers beneath the windows perched On cool summer nights Soon to be plucked and carefully set upon The dewy grass. Now there are but biting beetles, Buckthorn trees that shout loudly like used car salesmen when they see an easy mark, Dried … Continue reading Where Once the Salamanders
The Oarfish has arisen From its home beneath the waves It journeys from the shadowed depths To the surface to be safe It feels the earth's vibrations In the silence where it dwells And in this way knows many secrets Which it can nor will ever tell The Oarfish has arisen Board the windows Lock … Continue reading The Oarfish Has Arisen
We groan And yawn Restless But contained Within walls Which house our forms As well as the warmth which makes them so We huddle In sweaters And under sheets Comfortable But restless Waiting for the Earth to turn Watching for the sun to rise We live In a cold state
Black dog wakes up in the morning and looks outside so he can see the sky; He likes to watch the sun rise. But then it's back to sleep, Gone, but for a moment, Lost in dreams until the master cries: "Oh, black dog… rise." Yearning, Dreaming of another; Life it seems Is always passing … Continue reading Black Dog