The vacant silence,
A once full room now empty,
Scream into the dark.
A light that guides them…
The bright stars silent and gone–
Prevail through the dark.
Gaze towards the dark room,
Shatter the presence of doubt,
She breathes, and she lives.
A wisp of sea salts,
Her breath on the languid green,
A lense in the dew.
Grace–
The petal falling,
Into the dust of pain.
Sunlight through glass,
Stained and pitted–
A broken dream of day.
Holes–
Too deep for memory,
Linger in the aching place,
Cavernous and hungering.
I was feeling very confident in my affection for my girlfriend earlier today, until she made it clear we were not on the same page and became my ex. I worked for a bit on compiling this sequence of songs to (ironically) brush over the feelings of despair associated with losing love, only to find it again later in the playlist.
Mournful, yes, was the appropriate tone-setter but not the end of the story. I still feel hopeful for my cause; my desire to be loved and to give love fully. My life is still moving forward. Sharing that with “A” was what I wanted to do, but I never really believed it or committed myself fully. I discussed the possibility of going my separate way many times in therapy but now to have it play out in reality is a whole different experience. I do miss what we had while it was good, and wonder about how it went astray.
I tried to be honest with my feeling in this playlist and effusive/voluminous would be good ways to describe my enduring affection. Breaks don’t just end feelings… they hang on in a painful remembrance which makes the acuteness of my album’s emotional story ring all the more true now that I sit here listening to it again. It aches where she is missing, but I know that won’t last forever.
I have no bridges to cross out of independence to companionship… and maybe it will be that way for a while.
Beer Bottles & Huggy Times
Length: 74 minutes
It shakes the balance of days,
A strained pluck of the tightest string–
Her echoing chords ring like a dawn bell.
Flipped and perplexed…
In the upside-down world,
My hands on the aching boundary–
The sound of my cleaving breath,
To clear the air of spinning dust.
Concealed by oblivious affliction,
Striking loose the gems of fortune–
Given light from under the skeptic’s soot,
Radiant and accepting… wanting for me…
Her voice came to call.
Torpor of ambition,
An atrophy–
The flame of dead sinews,
Fume up the haze of bile.
When does it end?
The outer void of boiling death,
Frozen and gas-ripped flesh–
Breathless words silent,
Glass shattered through the black.
Tired of wanting–
A gasp in a choking cloud,
Flesh melting away while it burns,
Rendered to nothing but ash.
Splinter crisp–
Shatter the space between,
The fresh blood open,
A sensation.
Caught between–
The words broken,
Scattered like sawdust,
Falling into cracks.
Ignited.
Tinder sparking–
Born.
The brightness,
Filling the gaps,
Of dreams.
It was the stark tension of ropes,
Screaming distress with thin threads–
Unbound, twisted madly, perilously.
As the gasps shorten–
The incessant gravity,
Holds as it only knows how.
What then if not free?
Do trees tell stories of their youth for the rocks to hear?
Does the pounding sea beg forgiveness of the shore?
I long to exude the song within–
Without taking something away.
Whispering one word at a time,
Where no expanse can prevail–
And no tide can soften into meaningless grains.
It is in the hiss of leaves,
The breaking of day,
That I know.
Splashed by drops of infrequent rain,
A tune once known now sung again–
The shards that glimmer in her eyes,
Like a choir of voices suddenly alive.
Something there that had been lost,
Dust and scars made known the cost.
Afraid to cross these churning seas–
Who crest and roil continually,
Staring at stars and holding back tears,
Cast adrift for all these years.
To find a place of common ground–
A kindred soul at last is found.
Each brick laid down with true intent,
By curving arch by span is bent–
Making the clasp in equal part,
Foundations sound right from the start.
A path that’s wide but still unclear,
Surrounded by encroaching fear.
The lantern casts the light I need,
For in her eyes I’m finally freed.
Admittedly, Night Guy was a response to a changing circumstance and search for companionship outside of the traditional paradigm. While he was a fun and exciting fellow, he was not sustainable. I have sen now that some contortion is good, but too much compromises integrity.
This album centers its themes on the insanity, bizarre and inexplicably unique way I manifest my persona in this otherwise tranquil world. The motifs include hasty sex, strange comparisons, odd quirks, depression, fanaticism and balance (eventually).
I feel like this very-closely parallels my current mood and temperament. Have at with the exposition!
Mood Album: Spunk-Rocket Poof Station
Length: 75 minutes
Hey Blog, Night Guy here.
This other guy is a kook pretty much now that I’m going over all these notes and things left behind. Anyway, this music medium is how the previous administration tried to convey or interpret a state of being or emotional narrative for processing and comprehension. I’m not as much in to all the fluffy shit that goes along with this activity, but I guess I can scrutinize what has already been made available for me to cast judgement upon. See this album as a prognosis for the former occupant, and an indicator of the turbulent future he carved out for himself. This album is, basically, how it is; sad, stark and laid out there for all to see. Please don’t send me mail about the deeds of the prior administration, it will all get forwarded to the daytime guy.. or whoever he was. He may have fled the country.
**UPDATED**
So after listing to it a couple of times, it just wasn’t Night Guyish enough. I spruced this bad boy up with some silly putty and electric shocks. Enjoy!
Length: 77 Minutes
In light of recent turbulence in my world, I’ve tried keeping a better feel on the introspective pulse of regular function. I’m also aware that I’m subjecting myself to an unusually high level of stress and stimuli in an effort to combat creeping depression. I see all the elements like a confluence of rivers forming a mighty torrent… somehow sweeping my brain away downstream or buried in silt. Nevertheless, I still pry open the inner vault of the self and try to understand things happening to and from it. I feel I’m better at some things I used to be terrible at, but still lacking in quite a few areas. What are my true motivations for my actions? Why do I open myself to every nice person that walks by? Why am I such an insatiable prick? What does being understood feel like?
I sit here in my snowman jammies and wonder if expression really helps, or if it just provides a forum for things to garner attention for a time? I think the more ways I can ventilate this shit-smelling barn the better. Activities like the Mood Albums I do are helpful because they give me the chance to craft a narrative in a medium not often used. I don’t think myself anything other than expressive, curious and expositional about my own feelings and path forward. So as of the last album when I was feeling a fair bit gooier than I am now, I needed to revisit my good friend pain, loneliness and rekindle an ongoing desire to see things change.
Tracks from the previous Mood Album: Spatulas & Bandaids are highlighted in yellow. I have pulled from other wishy-washy type albums as well that have been generated in the past. I didn’t go “all in” on the squish, mind you, but it’s there. As you can see, there has been some pretty severe turnover in the track-list. I have listed the previous two iterations below so the whole three-album progression can be seen clear.
I had a look back at my very expressive and sad album composition I published the other day, and I started having second thoughts as to the accuracy of the portrayal presented. At first I saw it as a tantrum, but then the real hurt and uncertainty of life were ensnared in there as well. The whole first attempt was raw and unfiltered, where now I began to see the value in refining what was already there. I wanted to paint a better picture than the one I had so hastily Pollocked on to the wall. I still felt like the previous album still had value, so bits and pieces remain the same while the framing I had previously put in place are reoriented. So, here is my newly introspective revisit of the Deflaticated Marshmallow (remnants in bold) album:
Hands that touch,
But don’t yet clasp,
I hope for much,
But will it last?
Patience proves,
A worthy foe,
With little moves,
I strive to know.
In such a rush,
To find the end,
With growing trust,
New words must mend.
Struggle to say,
Fear to break,
The game we play,
Has much at stake.
Forward now,
I’ll find my way,
Proclaim aloud,
“With you I’ll stay.”
Abolished is the old way,
Construed with figgery,
Ensnarled in pain and disjointing–
Painful reconciliations.
Prospects dwindling,
A neglected campfire–
Subsumed in choking ash.
Daylight a figment.
Implosion being the course.
Alone in the black,
Of forgetting.
It’s not the wanting–
Like fragments tumble in sparks,
Furiously scatter-lit,
Fill the blackened chamber.
Restrain old whispers–
Haunted hallway-dusted,
Once-clawed firmament.
Between the shutter-slats,
Begging at freedom,
Boldness awaits.
A hammering smack the window glass,
The bitter, howling, grey morass,
Transparently the pounding rain–
Flailing madly in disdain.
The view from through the sealed gate,
A contrast by which to acclimate,
Ensnared in comfort’s clinging grip–
With a steaming cup of tea to sip.
Staring out at fury and storm,
Curiously watching while safe and warm,
The moment when I want her here,
A pathway forward not yet clear,
To hold in dreams until a promised time,
When her touch and grace will yet be mine.
On dandelion winds,
Cinnamon kisses,
Brushed over with delicate leaves.
Boisterous as laughter,
Pounded hollow log thumps–
Push the churned blood,
Enshrined by citrus light.
Upon the cusp of promise,
Shattering rays to reveal–
What lies within.
Twins of twilight–
Pixie-blink a flicker,
The grounded stars dance,
Hands catching–
Their fires alive.
Back across the stretching sky,
Racing alone to a distant–
Faded horizon.
Dust falls to ash,
Dimming until dark again.
In the curtain shadow,
Lingering like a ghost.
A whisper–
Echoes of laughter,
Open window hiss,
Listening–
This tired refrain,
Polluted in nostalgia,
Screams are breath–
Erased by the wind.
A sinew;
Twisting, stretch-snapping the expanse,
Shredded down to an impossible wire.
But feeling it there–
Some thread still binding,
In unrequited twitterpation,
Escaping the fury of torment,
Yet yanking at the throat–
Scraping the hole left by death.
It’s only in dreaming–
That some bridge still exists,
A span still endures,
Where she can still be found.
Pierce the tangible vail,
An echo timeless–
Her figments arrayed,
Through the fractured parallels.
Meet me there–
Where only our shades dance,
Dreamers in life,
Estranged from reality,
The final bastion of us.
Streak burning green across the stars,
Puffy warm breaths at Jupiter and Mars,
Frozen cheeks stare in awestruck wonderment,
At surprises revealed by atmospheric turbulence,
Holding hands tight beneath the warm blankets,
Sky polished and bright for the great royal banquet,
Beneath the black cloak eyes ache for sleep,
For this fanciful dream he will always keep.
Some ridges–
Blunted by time’s decay,
Fractured rivulets across the plain,
Cavernous, engulfing.
Sometimes brushed or bruised–
Maimed and tarnished by use,
Stained, scarred–
Two canvases.
—
Alight a feather’s grace,
Delicate fingers unfurl,
Blessed the slightest droplet of dew,
Corralled briefly,
Unchanneled and free–
A transient of history engrained.
Glinting off wet lashes,
Tired, peering into the bright–
Piercing glare.
Furrowed for shade,
Revealing scars, lines–
Staring, smashing into shards,
Reflecting–
Too real to behold.
Cold air’s ambiance-
Pieced by a rustle of readiness,
Bent with leaves and frosted petals,
Crunched to a waxing glimmer,
Succulent melted ice,
Crispy splash awakening.
The aching, radiant reach–
Exciting the monotony,
Of ecstasy.
Sunk-shaft in throat-deep brown,
Residual, pungent excrement of time,
Aspirate viscous words,
Review abhorrent scenes–
Snarled in knotted forever nevers,
Plopped firmly in the mud of then.
The stink of hate–
Long permeated through cracked windows–
Careless doorseams,
The dank, mildew-wet scent–
Of irreconcilability.
Ronk dorb gleb,
Magoomesh ho-hoonderhalb,
Nafreen ghnagnost wooneb.
Shafootz planderheeze–
Fnag enchoag,
Underpait, gurfchenk,
Narflaamanterpoontz.
Foggy eyes slatted against the East,
A burning shard of brilliant red,
Crisp as the scent of ground coffee–
Sparky like electric clothes,
Hissing seconds through the torporic cold.
Creaky hollowed and bone-dry,
Brittle stuck to twisted agonies,
Piling through the seasons–
Combustibly warped in crisped gapes.
Scowling shift hisses an unloading–
Cast of up leaves and old tinder,
Snicker-snapped with a snarly pop.
Bored moments and crumpled memories,
Transformed in a rush–
To pillowy piles,
Refined, but still–
Nourishing roots.
Inchly skyward–
Pressing a cool curve,
Bonded, rooted–
Stacked against the endless yearn.
Held up enmantled,
Like arms-high & unwavering,
Clutching the keystone as one.
Unflexing in time,
Bastion against torment–
Dry place to rest,
Sunrise to sunset.
Circumstance accelerated–
Separately decorated rooms,
Their unions indelicate as colliding trains–
Smashed.
Strewn about empty vessels & toppled statuettes,
Angrily flashing lights abound–
Combining colored blotches,
Finding a door hidden in the wall.
—
Yearning and curious posturing,
Catastrophic yet creative–
Electric when touched,
Running between tall shadows,
Impaled by ruin–
Judged by amalgamation.
Sliding by rust-hooked fragments–
Skewered with twisted iron brambles,
Blood-stained and snarled gloves.
—
Spiderwebbed glass,
Aching unknowns–
Stresses of anxiety-driven thoughts,
Smearing like palm-clammy hands,
Begging to be inside.
Unable to breathe–
The rooms combining–
Colliding.
Smeared streak across glass–
Prune-like pulp chunk,
Blasted splat to barrier.
Vacantly gulping–
Eyeball-seeking,
The other side.
—
Embossed in “la la” afterglow,
A faded twirly skirt no one wears,
In a vacant room–
11th floor–
A light was left on.
Spatula’d off the surface–
Plorped into a dustbin,
Mingling with the glops–
Deposits within firmament.
Writhing helplessly–
Interpreted by refluxing bile,
A forlorn victim of restraint,
Choked by the smothering–
Endless gnawing of memory rewritten,
Devoured in reimagined atrocities.
—
Supplementing the real,
An alternative to acceptance–
Presented like a sweet pastry,
Masking the unpalatable truth.
Changing the lie or flavor–
Pleasure wanes in rehearsal.
—
Sight shackled to what is,
An unforgiving reality–
Of pain, loneliness, yearning.
Many incinerated pieces–
Dustbin swept–
Belching presumed repugnance,
Dashed in form until particulate–
Forgotten but not gone,
Peering out from under a round stone–
Wondering…
Ghost-fingers cold–
That spine-shuddering touch,
Eyes scream out in unknowing fear.
Emptied of dreams; memories–
They fall into a dark chasm,
Forsaken, purged by lightning,
Agony–
Again! Again!
Those hopes in trust–
Smeared into opaque nothingness,
Irrelevantly hoping–
Still met by a stranger,
Bereft of words,
Emotions swirling downstream.
Cast into the crucible of torment–
Straining against the surges that come.
Once proud foundations–
Crumbling decay into rot,
Detritus swept away by an outgoing tide.
Scrapes of curling bitter rind.
Deliverance lashes the already bloody.
Pain, revisited, endured, revisited.
Replenished with bile, ready for the next.
Sounding pang of a hammer slam–
Wailing with the escaping anguish,
The cries fade in the clattering noise.
Hollow echoes, desperate and resounding,
Hurt the stone walls with their shrieking scrapes–
Almost words, but more a feeling.
Banging on into the distance,
Rattling–
Hollow of remembrance,
Soaked in the flavors of now.
The drops peel off corners,
Plated hard and unfractured.
Puddling to be dissolved,
Nothing but the soft hiss–
Of the silence underground.
Placed in scrutiny,
Transparently apparent,
It sounds as it is.
Dusted with purpose,
Scars and tattered clothes,
Smudged stain streaks,
Eyes, charged.
Dedicated to forward,
Chalk-dry grip,
Push off up or out,
Vital fury burns,
Sheds to incinerate.
Cleansing water,
Circling the departure,
New banner unmuted,
Wrought of scars–
Clear in color.
Snagged in snarling brambles,
Razor wiring flesh from bone.
Shrieking, wrenching spasm–
Grasping the air of next.
Sinewy-thread wounds,
Flesh disembarked in decay,
Bear roots in the firmament.
Trickling drip-increments,
Boom peeled with knowing,
Spiraling sunward slowly.
Embroiled in shredded selves,
Grown-toes in fetid murk,
Apparent in leaves, unfurling,
Soak the hours waning.
1.
Magnetic sunrise,
Purples shining in reds,
Twisted sinews in roasted heat,
Delicate wet petals,
Fragrant mystery,
Deluded in flavor,
Fueled in hate.
Blasted bits scatter.
2.
Green canopies over,
Soft inviting eyes,
House of dreams,
Sparkling nights.
Fire-bright.
Disturbed underneath,
Cancerous rot–
Melting surfaces,
Forged, bludgeoned, ruined.
3.
Boundless joy–
Rising to days,
Adventures teeming–
Jubilant.
Decaying.
Festering in disinterest,
Foiled by distance,
Dry pots,
Plagued roots,
No plant will grow.
4.
Benign but present,
A foundation–
Cracked and listing,
Imperiled by slope,
Decline’s passenger–
Walking free,
Escaping the abyss.
5.
Voices remind,
Burdens of reality–
Crushed to a deserved fate.
Still,
Within, an ember–
Glowing a feint promise,
A heat unextinguished,
Flared or dormant–
The fire remains.
Severed mooring–
Cast free on a drift,
Slacked touch ache,
Fading warmth fingered,
Slip the dust of her.
Currents steal futures–
Plied courseless,
Echo’s reply mocking.
Consuming cold stones,
Sinking, crushing,
Yellow to night,
Black horizon,
Dissolving–
Ahead but still behind,
Water tips in–
Gushing,
Vanish beneath,
Gulped, unnoticed.
Sparkling–
Just beyond fingers,
Reach,
Up to a sky gone down,
Wide-eyed with the impending–
Choking moments,
Being the hopeless last.
Suffering in gulping–
Swallowing breaths,
Engorged in death,
Drifting further–
Diminishing reaches,
Savior unknown.
Impacting rest,
Squeezed of chance–
Settle,
To be slowly devoured,
As nothing remains.
Cymbal smash,
Spinning stars,
Mercurial dismay–
Re-shackled.
Jetstream clouds,
Gaping ache,
Confined domain,
Caught in the cold.
Consumed in despair,
Fires by sunset–
Tomorrow’s ashes await.
Bound unknown,
Placeless path,
Barred a distance–
Against darkness.
Strand-thin,
Vitally slipping,
Twisted burden–
Choked to oblivion.
Farther each,
Crossing edges,
Uncharted–
Alone.
Paths for fingers,
Delicate raindrops,
Sparking light–
Electric warmly,
Whispered, present.
~~
Branched to new leaves,
Fissure-divided,
Bridgeless gap–
Words windedly gone,
Rattling down dark.
~~
Silhouette–
Purposeful void,
Rowed cages,
Ensnared–
Enveloped.
~~
Bell of dawn,
A soulless east,
Roil the dust,
Ashed facelessly–
Empty,
For parched lips.
Snapped to strain,
Tendrils tearing,
Distant, dimming.
Unwinding thread,
Screaming apart,
No more than a glance.
Turned in–
Spiral miserably,
Consuming dark,
Alone.
For a time,
Young, alive,
But not again.
Tiny grains,
Falling from edges,
Hard, not flat,
Piling–
A groan of measure,
Precarious angle,
Tilted past salvation.
A dream–
Like sand in the wind,
Touching, scattering–
In the crucible of time.
Shores bare,
Receding,
Until nothing remains.
Dawn to feel,
Some distant–
Dusty shelf.
Remnants–
Just strings.
Temple in ruin,
Dashed columns–
Memories collapse.
Bound to distant orbits,
Inescapably calling,
Begging–
Feeling the strain,
From somewhere far.
Strings,
Dancing, alive–
Inviting fate to speak.
Touch–
Past, future, present.
Snarly hues,
Grumbling recesses–
Fetid in the dark,
Deep grip–
Dug in roots,
Creeped in moss,
Stagnant, rotting.
A change of wind–
Dust of blooms,
Enticing ribbons flail,
Winding bright–
A chance of taste,
Distant, remaining.
Contrasting,
The old color young,
On yellow days.
Passed through strands,
Fringes–
Sparkling with delight,
Her smile–
Thick honey sweet.
Broken columns,
Deposed–
Razed in ruin,
Ash on her lips.
Promises fleeting,
Born of absolution,
Skying towards sunrise–
Breathe new air,
The dawn has come.
Pressed to a glimpse,
Breathless–
Starlit, shining.
Clutching the clouds–
Shattered ice,
Unveiled–
Lonely moonrise.
Dreaming–
Living within,
Enclosing night,
Rest–
In a place of forgetting.
Ribbon-thinned,
Split in opposites,
Pulled by distinct gravities.
Vanishing into the mire,
Smothering–
Breathing in mud and sludge,
Still alive.
Wondering,
Seeing their last–
Questions remain,
Beyond reach.
Empty hand,
Silence.
Taught–
Like burdened strings,
Holding the line to clarity,
Ruminating on many doors,
Long hallways,
Fading to dark.
Piled like ash,
Scraping out for relevance.
While clandestinely guided,
Honing on a fate,
Hoping in peace–
Perhaps already lost.
A spiraling state–
Blurred in possibilities,
Shattered woes–
Held apart by joy.
Coming back–
Walking in the door,
Home has always been.
Sliver-possible light,
Through narrow glimpses,
Keyhole-looking,
Baited breath-stealing–
Walker of tiptoe mysteries.
Traces in the dust,
Fathomed through pages,
Implored for more–
But left vacant at the gate.
A mouthful of yearning,
Eclipsed by walls–
Left agape at the possibilities,
Watching the light disappear.
Dewed limbs leafily,
Kissed in golds–
And radiant green pools,
Thumped pops on drum logs–
Tiny feet pitter-patter,
Joyous at the dawn.
Fringes curled,
Crisped–
Dried for the day ahead–
And turned west in the breeze.
whispered, dusty music–
Of summer’s song.
Embers in the ash,
Gasped–
Embraced in cold,
Drawn in, clutched,
Addressed in gusts,
Fresh snaps of life,
Spark ascendant–
Blissfully possible again.
Radiant.
A hearth invites,
Dwindling down,
Sundered to snowy soot
The night returns.
A captivating embrace,
Sheltered from the placid sun–
Flush, deep and rich with whispers.
Channeled narrowly through columns,
Spoken openly in greens–
Abiding, soaked in history,
Colonized and conquered,
In constant motion, yet, unchanged.
Hands, dance in the wind,
Itchy fingers reach out–
Canopy of possibilities,
Stretched out along the path home.
Don’t.
Scarred with ridges,
Shreds, tatters.
Scraps in the dust,
Never.
Cold echo,
Chasm-deep throttled,
Resigned to emptiness,
Banished.
Curled in the dark,
Blanketless solitude,
Go away–
Already gone.
Snap the sharp crisp,
Brilliant bang blastings,
Crunkle crunch the twig twang
Burning bright, boastfully.
Roiling horde of yellow demons–
Shrivel, crack snapping twist
Puffing poof of failed dirt,
Cold, cluttery, carbonofied–
Powdered to filthy soot.
Shaft of radiant dawn,
A deep and abiding calm–
Before the swell returns.
Balanced like a precarious stone,
The force of decay–
A grasping, clutching hand,
Ceaselessly restraining,
In vain, escape inevitable.
Propelled with promise,
Burning like a sunbeam–
Etching the new day.
An Abstract Prose Narrative
—
Back in the days full of sun, dreams merged like clouds blowing in the wind. Dancing light and fingers touching the tall grass the days were by. Holding breath in the kiss of tangerine love.
Opening up a bounteous bloom of cosmic preponderance and entrenched in unique beauty. Hinges, wings and cryptic messages sparked a deep fascination. Could such a world blend with my own? Maybe a merging of these twisted dimensions may yield a beautiful offspring? The investigation within the cave of the eye began. Tumbling down the hole seemed a drunken escapade so delightful, wanted, yearned for. Always.
So to do sunsets yield to night, a time and a time went by. Stale air and old closets were hiding. Shriveled up socks and neglected piles of things.
Threads cobwebbery enmeshed and ensnared. Thorns dug in deep. Hatred like raging lava buried the what had been in incendiary death.
What then at this brink? Her last words were of a lost piece of the personal past. Her bloom, in a book, in text where her secrets had been hidden. The unfurling of her thought, ripped to pieces by division, scattering her from her anchor. The fissure had grown vast and deep. Her words echoed into the chasm, unreconciled.
Long since the sun shown so, my hands found her dreams once more. Symbols, language and such an imagination. It was all here again, unearthed by the expansion of time. Scrawled in her adorable ink, all that she was missed was remembered. Kiss, laugh and dream.
Now, to feel her dust on my fingers, such a sigh. This one sad little ember of it is all that remains. Kicked me into the ditch and left me to blame, while peasant heart still aches. All little sounds and sniffs forgotten.
Such is the death of things, and the rocket propelled moments when fireworks are right there and everything is back. Over and done, but never forgotten. The book returns to oblivion from whence it had come.
Driven into stinging rain,
Stale hopes like tears–
Falling to wonderment.
Puzzling arrangement of doors,
Hastened urges and shortcomings,
Skeptical glance–
Lamentably collapsing within.
Avenues of thought,
The taste of summer lips,
Dandelion bright–
Ribbons twist in the wind.
—
Hands, touch–
Together beneath the stars,
Remembering.
—
The hollow silence–
Crushing down.
Pinned against regret,
Trapped by nevermore,
Memories fade away.
Silhouetted in red sunset,
The dance of electric air.
Thin fingers softly,
Caress of her deep eyes,
The shattered, whispered smile.
Vagrant delight like tower bells–
Held in memory.
Too alive to be real,
Lost like a shout into a gale.
Faded memory is all but gone.
Dreams forgotten by the light of dawn.
Shaft of light–
In the dusty darkness.
Thin blanket,
Cold gets in underneath,
Tattered edges tell–
Hands that touch,
Someone frayed.
Cold walls,
Narrowed.
Finding a way–
Alone.
Fingers,
Tenderly through damp hair,
Along the soft curve of her neck–
Lost in deep pools of blue.
Somewhere in that moment–
When in union,
Entwined in the act,
Eyes that drive into the soul–
Laid bare and exposed,
Dripping and moving,
Two worlds become one.
The wells of her beauty,
Captivated in her many places,
Those precious seconds,
Given gladly in adoration.
A promise between eyes,
Remembering.
Summer laughter,
Wind through the dry reeds,
The soft snapping of campfire.
Holding on to shadows,
Choked by regret,
Degraded and fractured–
But not yet gone.
Bare feet on the grass,
Pale moonlit mornings,
Taking shelter against the rain.
Tomorrow will soon be today.
Empty chalice,
The deep echo of aching halls–
A splintering rupture,
Cast down like waste into the gravel.
Back down the slope,
A progression of failure.
Spun by chances–
Deeper into the darkness.
Only a shadow–
Gone when the light is shown.
The lost promise–
Whispered over dry lips,
Was never there at all.
Echoing deep in mystery,
The reflection of a whisper–
Caught beneath a starry sky.
The rapture of touch,
Energetic chances,
Together in a moment of unity–
Lingering tastes,
Breathing.
Warm like a sunrise,
Decent as a calm cool breeze,
A rare green–
Pierces.
Cold walls wet with dew,
A long darkness that stretches out–
Hesitant to take a step,
Mired in uncertainty and fear.
The shadow of gloom,
Hanging heavy like a rain cloud,
Sinking in like a fanged wind–
Tearing down the center of warmth,
Pushing in until the fire is out.
The emptiness aches,
Disappearing into the deep nothing–
Throttling passion,
A vase of roses hits the floor and shatters–
Only fragments remain if what had been.
Another promise unfulfilled,
Winding deep into the black,
Where no light can touch.
Deep in the mangled web of lust,
Prey to passion, but unafraid.
The ache for her touch,
Yearning for completeness,
The grace of knowing,
How to hold her.
New as the orange dawn,
Solemn, like a pledge,
A spirited wind through tall grass,
Holding hands in the moonlight.
Smashed on a white-hot-press,
Busted bean endures the stress,
Tempered in a twirling fray,
Beat to dust, but not gone away.
Poured over a blistering blaze,
Mixed, churned in a blurry daze.
Steaming up with coiled heat,
Waiting to steep–a morning treat.
Liquid rich and pouring down,
The goblet rich with brewed renown,
Who’s bite and sigh is worth the wait,
Old is the cause to anticipate,
Every moment a new delight,
But it might just keep you up all night.
She,
Warm as sunlit skin,
Radiating from within.
From the quiet space of suspicion,
A lingering cold–
Born of loss, pain.
These uncovered briefly,
To reminisce and become lost.
The dread of empty days,
Shattered hands grasp,
Deep in the well of what could be.
Forget the world without yellow.
Waking in the morning,
Feeling her there,
The shadows fade.
A cold wind moves,
Painfully scraping cheeks,
Crisping dead leaves,
Shadows along the horizon,
Near the chill of days.
Radiance gone,
Diminished in the twilight,
Pale blotted clouds,
Gusts that tear through with icy fangs,
Hissing.
Bleeding out into the night,
Standing starkly against,
Stone bricks freeze,
In the change of season.
Breathless starlight.
The emptiness of the night,
Who’s glimmering eyes peer–
Through the dust of creation.
Rising, breaking and gone–
Streaking hot through time.
Lost like a whisper,
Remembered for an instant.
Shards of a dream,
Old and sunk in the flesh–
Grinding up against now.
Spun like a twisted rope,
Held tension from unforgotten anguish,
Choked down in regret,
A future lost of its color.
Brought to the sun–
Open memories greet the rain.
From underneath, light creeps to the edges,
Softly, it returns.
A new day comes,
Eyes open or closed.
Brittle sinew,
Groaning against decay.
Stale driving heat,
Spent in the chalk-dust of bones.
The oppressive curtain of day…
Alone with the wind.
Seeking the cool dark,
Subterranean escapes,
Sheltering,
The night prevails,
Amidst the shadowy darkness–
Of tombs.
Share the stars,
Abundant eyes wonder,
Against the cold ground,
Twirl in deep fantasy,
At the grating edge of time.
Somewhere in the dark,
Beacons are flickering,
The promise of acknowledgement,
Stretching vast distances,
Becoming history.
Peer into the empty night,
Believe there is more,
Marvel at the mystery of this home.
Girl, it’s been a long time that we’ve been apart,
Much too long for a man that needs love,
I’ve missed you since I’ve been away,
Oh babe, wasn’t easy to leave you alone,
It gets harder each time that I go,
If I had a choice, I would stay,
There’s no one like you,
I can’t wait for the nights with you,
I imagine the things we do,
I just want to be loved by you,
No one like you,
I can’t wait for the nights with you,
I imagine the things we do,
I just want to be loved, by you.
Girl, there are really no words strong enough,
To describe all my longing for love,
I don’t want my feelings restrained,
Oh babe, now I need you like never before,
Just imagine you’d come through this door,
And take all my sorrows away,
There’s no one like you,
I can’t wait for the nights with you,
I imagine the things we do,
I just want to be loved by you,
No one like you,
I can’t wait for the nights with you,
I imagine the things we do,
I just want to be loved by you.
In a hundred years from now
They will attempt to tell us how
The scientific means to bliss
Will supersede the human kiss
A subatomic chain
Will maybe galvanize your brain
And a biochemic trance
Will eliminate romance
Why ever should we care?
When there are arrows in the air
Formed by lover’s ancient art
That fly straight to my heart,
A future sugar-coated pill
Will give our lovers time to kill
I think they’re working far too much
For the redundancy of touch
What will make me yours
Are a million deadly spores
Formed by lover’s ancient art
That fly straight to my heart
Come in to my door
Be the light in my life
Come in to my door
Never have to sweep the floor
Come in to my door
Be the light in my life
Come in to my door
Come and be my wife
I’ll be true
To no one but you
If it’s a future world we fear
We have tomorrow’s seeds right here
You can hold them in your hand
Or let them fall into the sand
If our love is pure
The only thing of which we’re sure
Is that you can play your part
And fly straight to my heart
If I’m to seek immunity
And love you with impunity
Then the only thing to do
Is for me to pledge myself to you
Only dealt one card
So for me it is not hard
Your the bright star in my chart
You go straight to my heart
Her provocative smile–
The dandelion whisper of words,
Touching checks gracefully,
Rendering their feathered kisses,
Coasting on air filled with reasons.
The bloom of a flower,
Sing of honey lips,
A splash of cool rainwater,
Deep and empowered by eyes,
Fresh fragrances beguile,
The dry softness of her hair.
Tapped deep in the earth,
Her ground is truth.
All about are the footprints of thought,
Ever-reaching for fragments,
Bound to the chase in learning,
Down like a west sun over the sea,
Eternal as the fire at midnight,
Her mysteries unfolding–
Patiently the petals extend,
Gather up the promise of tomorrow.
Let it be pure–
The fresh sod of understanding,
Take hold and drink.
A time has come for the day.
Rapture of night,
Hues bent and pale,
Sullen as the arctic sea,
Crisp snap of white fire.
Skirts caught in the wind,
The promise of hands–
And forgotten regret,
Shadows under the stars,
A distant whisper.
Run ragged in passion,
Exploratory fingers,
A taste of soft seams,
Subtle to yearn,
Desperate for release,
The clutch of together.
Child of moonlight,
A story in her eyes,
Wear the hat of chance,
Ever embraced,
The search is over.
Windblown thickets
The surreal golden hue
Radiant eyes piercing
Tattered garments
Crisp slicing cry
Lining up like splines
Kicking the rampant
In a daze of autumn
Stumbling over fascination
Tossing and curling delicates
Batting eyelashes
Cool blue reason
Air of promise
Redeeming in reality
Blood pumping
Sweat pouring
Caught up in knots
Splintered to strain
Destined for touch
The kiss of fire
Warm hands folding
Walking over bridges
As the sun sets
Shattered by the dawn,
Dancing fire of first light,
Stumbling into the world,
Pinched by reality–
Of sober cold tomorrows,
Encounter with fantasy,
The redundant heartache,
Hours become days,
Crushed under regret.
A dance by moonlight,
Green eyes that shine,
Hands clutching close,
Turn and together,
Awoken, vanished–
Her fragrance still wearing him,
Palm heat fading,
The moment recedes.
Hearts with wings,
Held back in cages barred,
The taste of sky–
Days become years,
The yearning goes silent,
A key neglectfully lost.
Rushing into the void–
Left by the sickness of want,
Churning deep chests,
Flutter to be bound,
Whispered kisses,
Tears, sighs–
The brutal seconds peeling,
Destined to despair,
The wish of remembering–
A starlit love undone.
Crestfallen daze
The gamble of promise
Trust in contempt
Bothered by sorrow–
Deep turning blade
Transition into silence
Apart from reason
A bastion burns–
In the night
Simple in remorse
The beguiling word
A shadow passes
Cold hollow air
Squeezing the breath
Closed and constricted
Gasp for tomorrow
Poised to fall
Downward course
Away from the sunrise
Dropped the power
Sacred the broken chalice
Scattered like memories
Abandoned to dust
Wearing the shroud–
Of sadness
Shining brilliance of sunrise,
Aptly aware in oranges,
Cuts through the thin air,
Stirring the cold of night.
Indifferent are the clouds,
As they melt away into nothing,
Knowing they will be back again,
Displaced but not forgotten.
A cycle repeated,
Familiar to the senses,
Unchallenged in occurrence,
Forever bound to duty,
Unbroken in the groove of ages.
No matter how scattered the old dream,
And despite the history of storms,
There will be an end to the darkness,
The promise of a new day,
Even if veiled,
Somewhere, the light is pure.
Everlasting…
Caught in glimpses,
Rescued by certainty,
The dawn is coming.
Footsteps by moonlight,
Eyes wide, taking in the night,
The wetness of rounded stones,
A bitter tear drying on soft cheeks.
Crumbling hills of shale,
Tired and groaning in the wind,
Whispering secrets in dust,
Shifting in the wake of time.
Desperate leaves on trees, barren,
The soot of life on the floor of the Earth,
Bare limbs reaching for a fading sun,
Cold winter sealed with a kiss.
The way summer fades and is gone,
Seasons of rain and storm,
Buried beneath the peat and muck,
A memory fades into nothing,
Dissolving into the endless dream of death.
The fire rages on somewhere distant,
In the burning violence of lust,
Leaving cinders, destroying, moving on.
The hollow space filled with empty promises,
Carried off in the breath of forgetting.
The thunder of waves,
Gnashing cold black stones,
Churning a violent hiss,
The ceaseless tumult.
Desperation like lifeboats,
At the mercy of currents,
Lips cracked and dry–
Pining for foundation.
Rocking in the swell,
Inching closer to the fangs of the sea.
Heartsick and lost in the spray,
The journey at its end,
Met by violence–
Rendered to driftwood by circumstance,
Nothing left but surrender,
Lost, sinking, gone
Crushed under the pressure,
Without breath–
The pounding fury takes another down,
A cold, forgotten grave.
Through the unending dark,
A fire of discord consumes.
Wasted in dying romance,
Tossed aside like crumpled newspapers,
Tattered by the ceaseless gale,
Then nothing remains.
The strain of trial,
Too great a burden for assumed love,
An ember gone cold,
Masked by the soot of differences.
Two unequal parts,
Jarred free of dependence–
Wary of trauma yet revealed.
A test failed,
The ache deep and sorrowful.
Standing amidst despair,
The tired sunset beneath cold clouds,
A hollow rush of air,
Bringing down the walls of memory,
Reduced and broken,
Sad in the shadow of longing,
Bound but not forgotten,
Eclipsed by reason,
Drying out in the open,
Again, in measured steps.
Streaks of rain on the window,
Soft and quiet like the wind at night,
The ember that glows in the dark,
Choking on ash and dust,
Familiarity ripped apart and down,
The shadow of touch,
What was will never be again.
Pines in the clear blue air,
Treading lightly on sacred ground,
The hills lit up in sunset reds,
Beckoning the twilight gasp,
Forgotten promises,
Abandoned words without homes,
Snapping like twigs underfoot.
A piercing howl at the moon,
Fools stay in the past, mourning,
The sun rises yellow and bold,
Sand and stones,
Days and years, going by.
Yearning abides the fevered ache
What cheating hands so often take
Like a blister from the burning sun
A man who’s will has come undone
Not gambling away the common play
But in simplicity he chose to stay
Then lost in sadness and turning blue
The lies he was convinced were true
Abandoned, alone and ever-felt
On the doorstep of pain he often knelt
Those shattered dreams are blown away
Time will bring yet another day
Memories burn like newborn fire
The person he’s been he can’t admire
But change is driving his movement on
The path he walks yet to be drawn
Alone he stands with much support
With friends and others of that sort
Hear their words ring loud and true
That they do love the things you do
And carry on this noble charge
Your self esteem will so enlarge
Beating back the pain of the day
Of times in which you went astray
Fear not the future coming true
No one stands between it and you
Little tasks you will complete
Until your cup is quite replete
Shadows erased by blinding light
The torch will cut the fear of night
Hold fast and true and you will see
The man you always hoped you’d be
Spinning fingers fly
The canvas of unfurling time
Who’s artistic touch–
Bends the world, breaking
A sickness, run deep in the mind
Uncured by lies
Regarded yet despised
The shadow of her past still lingers
Progress stopped in hate
Hours, days dwelling
Incumbent of pain
A moment is passing slowly
Haste, lost its way
Pages, falling scrambled
Words crumbling
Memories burn in the din
Simple seconds go by
The chapter being done.
Promised a new sunrise
Saying goodbye to unforgiving night
Transition beckoning
A day, a lifetime of regret–
Pressing the iron of years
Futilely struggling
Passively prevailing
Another way is chosen
And on it goes
Shameless corners dust and dirt,
Parched ever in the wilting sun,
Made brave in the blasting heat,
Long shadows come undone.
Whispering in the stale air,
Their cries of want and endless thirst,
A mellow red sunset long,
The clash of color due to burst.
Reckless, cringing scrape of night,
The heat of day did not belong,
When eyes are groping for the light,
And crickets make their special song.
Arise again the break of dawn,
Emboldened, clutching hand-in-hand,
Another pale promise gone,
Buried deep beneath the sand.
Twisted brief
A ray of sun
The counting clouds
Their bellies full
Laden for baring
The cool wet breeze
First drops, falling
Mouths dry
Crispy soil baked
Splash of relief
Being one of many
A sigh in solace
The rain has come
Shivers down the bone-spine,
The wet hiss of rain.
Skin pulled like a drum,
Cracking under the sum.
Amidst the shadows, long
Whispered moments–
Eaten by time.
Pale light of the dawn,
Cold alleys and wasted days,
Churning in the innards,
Split in two by thunder.
Driven like a bent nail–
Contorted wrong,
About the mystery of chance,
The shouting cries of pain,
A heart thumping deep,
Scraped by trapped hands–
Put between like bricks,
Separated forever.
Making lies dripping sweet,
Stung in the gasp of terror,
Expelled by thieves,
Shattered mirror.
A face without a name,
Quiet sadness,
Abhorrent in memory,
The pale rumor lingers,
Strumming like fingers,
On the edge, not looking back
Falling swiftly into nothing.
Hiss the hot, red words–
Burning the motives from action,
A gavel sounding the silence,
Mandated from the sender,
The message is lost entirely,
But in the twilight of excuses,
The maddening hours pass unresolved,
A lie told for a lie,
Corked and cast away on the sea of concern,
An outrage totally unheard.
But truth abides–
In the house of caution,
Belittled by the construct,
But aware of himself alone,
The daunting struggle of days,
Alone, content.
Proprietor of destiny,
Turns the eye of sorrow,
Back to peace.
Tantrum bold
Always cold
Sighing sleep
The two should meet
Awakened eyes
Told only lies
Behind the fray
She wouldn’t stay
Alone again
Lost a friend
Seconds tick
Brick by brick
Stole away
Another day
Dashed his clout
Without a doubt
The rocks can tell
Just where he fell
Some secrets deep
Where hearts don’t beat
Away the rise
The sun despised
Blow me down
A distant town
Far from this
The end of bliss
Tomorrow comes
But I’m undone
Dipped in sallow hate
The swaddling, strewn reckless
Across the pin-tipped moment
Where blurred reasons ache
And tomorrow’s a tough swallow
Estranged like a beaten spouse,
Churned in the red
Begins a relapse of memory
Time and tide becoming
The veil is lifted by hours passing
Cooling in the night
Promised a better fate than this
But sinking nowhere
In forgotten dreams
Dry and parched
A screaming wind
Bellows of the maker
Tumble down rivers
A torrent, a whisper
The long shadow of loss
Bridges over the ruin
The cries of the unheard
Shallow in merits
Fueled by want
Unfolding for no one
The secret of day remains
Chasing itself backward
On the wing
Timid steps
Recoiled in terror
Hurt by reason
Wandering hungry
The next hour arrives
Fated to chance
Pondering the dues
Reconciled against waste
Mired in filth
Restored to promise
Of better days
And sunrise
Breaks the sky apart
Eyes breathe
The coming
Want of leaf
Strewn loose
While tender
Heartbeat empty
Paced feet
Wretched wear
Rote begat
Desperation’s turn
Under sunlight
Afloat, the truth
Stunning, told
Afternoon shadows
Began awry
The spun–
Yolk-blush beat
Fortified gratitude
Selfishly unaware
Handles turning
Seconds screaming
For deliverance
Snap up the sunlight,
Hollow in the wanting wood.
A clean shore break of reality,
Burdened with frustration,
Tied-down to routine–
Measured in long hours,
Spent up and crossed in thought,
A reckless hatred of daylight.
Abused and down,
How quickly the weeds grow.
Sitting in misery,
Void of empty desires,
The harrowing bell-chime–
Of the dark to follow.
Away with reason–
The time still burns.
Lesson in memory.
Sand stinging eyes–
Play sorrow’s song,
A better tomorrow, earned.
Unclear water running,
Across broken dreams,
Pain going downstream.
Distance found–
A place, rational and real.
Forsake gone days,
A rising sun greeted–
Words the way forward.
Telling lies like truths,
Enshroud the gospel of reason,
In a fate with inevitable sadness.
Trying, breaking,
The way is shut like eyes.
Trembling down in weakness,
Made common by pain,
Undone futures wanting.
Shifting in the hot sand of time.
So passing hours,
Do dial and creep,
Losing the war to decay,
But softly.
A chance is random as whim,
With talented hours drifting,
In a lot with broken pieces,
Cast like bones on the floor.
Reading peace,
The tranquil lapse of folded emotions,
Contemplating a day full of sun.
Twisted hot right,
With deadpan memory–
The fractured stare,
Broken by many hands.
Past still haunting,
In her eyes, a ghost–
That lingers, shadow.
It’s reason that burns–
That which yearns.
Tender affections–
Blasted with splinters.
Oozing its last.
Shale, taken by time
Packed hard and tight–
In lost betrayal and
Forgotten sadness,
Who’s unforgiven burden,
Bears the weight
Of your dead.
Bored done bones
Stiff cooked wood shakes
Stripped marrow core
Blanched stark in horror
Shelved laments
Canvas painted a muted hue
Adult intentions–
Being mired in clothes
Twig snap a crisp
Shift a fallen pale leaf
Sun kissed moments
Soured with regret
She breaks like–
A deadly storm.
Harbors frothing
My whole word boils–
Her name.
Tangential wandering
Steeped and packed with mud
Chortle away
The day, the night
Tomorrow or forever
His eyes are that blue
Yesterday the sun
I’ll dance the moon
Neurochemically Challenged 
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