alone, with just this downpour of
thought- and thunder! breaking the sky!
i am silent and hopeful, as i try to
remain untouched by the rain that falls
in sheets so heavily upon my mind…
and though the violence of this storm
is blinding, i am ready to cleanse the
heart of that which it has long denied!
deny today, i will not, yet find that which
is more useful to my heart, a cleansing touch
of acid rain to rid this chest of
all that was left behind…
these thoughts of you! may they drown
upon the puddles of my spirit
collected within my mind’s eye…
as the thunder clouds that grow within me
clear your essence from my memory
in a most violent and exquisite way
Tag: elements
prison of heart
moments hang grossly upon the
thick and humid air,
memories
coded in sounds that dangle
furtively in front of me….
would that my fingers could pluck
these remembrances out of the ether
and objectively turn them
around and around
in my hand
until I could exact the last from them
and finally let them go…
alas, the night doesn’t allow for sleep
and the noise that plays
within my heart, taunting me,
escapes my grasp-
So I wait on the very edge of thought
For release
From the prison
that houses my heart
silent memos
messages linger upon the dusty waves
of time, without structure or form-
and yet, contain such beauty of meaning
such that to pull one single silent memo
from the air would be to connect with divine…
these invisible notes left by our-selves
to be found when the time is right
and the mood is fine
oh to give my heart over to these wanderings of
wisdom…
what more could i do to open these
ears of mine to see the truth that lingers
just outside my view?
burdens
would that i could cry tears of pain
from my soul
just to release the heavy water
that hangs my heart so low….
i would line the sky with thunder clouds
to let the heavens roar
and rain pour down- until this
sorrow was released
from the very depths of me…
Oh to be a cloud that could just let go-
these burdens- how they haunt me so
cold
cruel is not a strong enough word
for that which my heart finds
capable; some might call me
cold- though within this chest flows
something more than ice-
it’s an emptiness that cannot be
described…
and yet i try to love, i do, with the
limited warmth i have within me,
there’s just no loving a cool cool
darkness…. it’s like breathing in space
i would take your breathe away and then
explode your lungs into tiny slivers of
frozen stone
best to leave it alone…. i can’t even
stand myself.
rivers
tears rolled down the mountain
cutting a way through trees and
debris
as if an unstoppable pain forged
these snaking rivers…
and the stars watched in disdain
as the birds sang in the distance
what if?
what is left when you remove the
sun from the sky?
do stars provide heat to comfort the soul
or are they just cold light shining
in darkness?
would the moonlight hold such sway
if the burning sun were not
her mighty foil?
am i anything without you?
oh! to be rid of these ponderous thoughts
that plague my mind so…
slow roam of memory
slow roam of memory
floating on an endless sea
bobbing aimless and lonesome-
lost to the moonswept tides
and windy breeze
these wanderings
not empty but void of depth;
voiceless and lacking solvency
oh! that these small specks of remembrance
might swell into a vessel that might
bring back what’s lost to me!
adrift at sea
my heart cannot find
the hope that lies hidden
within the ramblings of forgotten time
and though I search the vestiges of
my mind to materialize what’s been lost
there’s no hiding the unseen loss
of this vacancy
what will be left of me?
songbirds weave a tapestry of
sound across the morning
as sunlight penetrates the leaves…
a cool breeze lightly tiptoes across
the growing heat
and cars sound as ocean waves flowing…
in the distance dancing with birds are
the trees-
and sirens pepper the landscape
with urgency…
day is breaking on yet another morning-
breath flows within me like a sage
i am no longer living
but rather coming of age…
is there anything that can dull the pain
of slowly dying? at this rate
i will be gone before the songbirds
finish singing
and what will be left of me?
the garden
pulsating numbness and sweat beads
running down my chin;
the yard needs some tending
but I cannot seem to find the strength
to finish-
flowers everywhere mixed with weeds
and my heart spinning…just thinking
of what was said
though the dark nights are over, the waking has just begun…
So I will linger in the shade just a little longer
And then get back to the garden
the SIBYL'S SONG 