A spot of light illuminated
This sheer window dressing
Just before dawn
And all that was awoken
By the golden energy
Lives on; though transformed
Now into a sheet of blue
As sun rises upon the sill
Of memory
And nothing remains of what
Was but snippets of images
That linger within this heart
Haunting daylight with vestiges
Of night
Tag: poems
gentle words
Gentle words have no voice
When they linger within the
Echoes of darkness
Thoughts are but silent whispers
Floating upon a void
That wishes not for realization
Lost and spinning upon these
Ceaseless waves of nothing,
Turning around and around,
Until all that once held light
Falls exhausted into the same
Darkness with which it fought
To deny
Oh secret pain! This altar upon which
You pray gives such pause
What can come from the same
But more? And yet you linger here,
Comfortably, praying for day
face of memory
secret longing hangs swollen
and pregnant upon
the breast of memory-
heavy with the weight
of defeat, heart’s silent
screams fall upon closed
ears, lost to the timeless
ticking of clock hands that
know not of fear
death cannot take the remembrances
of taste and touch etched now
within these walls of love-
there is no space that can hold
the array of tears that fall as
gilded rain upon this lost soul,
waiting for completion…
but one kiss is all it would take
to be renewed;
remember me as the rain falls
upon your doorway,
as this heart pines away for
your unknown face of memory
ties transcending
i can hear your voice
floating upon the folds
of time
whispering words of love-
as your fingers sweep my
cheek; your lips my neck…
and my heart reaches through
the space between
to find your willing body
pressed against mine
as separation fades into
forgotten space-
thoughts touching,
hearts beating,
skin alive with the touch
of fate…
our souls bound
by ties transcending
without remorse
enflamed, destructive anger
burned the house of love
to the ground,
without remorse,
leaving the charred corpse of
compassion upon the floor…
this ever burning flame of
rage, that would take the
softest of feelings
and turn them into painful
blistering sores,
engulfs this soul with such
disgust that not even ash
remains
frustration
Frustration
has reached a boiling point
Bubbling over anger can no longer
Be contained
And all that was good inside this
Heart’s pot
Is lost to the sides
Steam is all that’s left
Of what was once love
And through these elemental
Alterations
Only remnants of scent
Remain
sweet sanity
it’s a dull ache that sets
this heart apart from
the longing that dogs it so-
and what is longing, but realizations
of lost things, from long ago…
oh, how does the soul travel
so alone, through time,
just to find this ache,
a cold wind, only meant to blow?
and no recovery of love
will ever replace the hole
that lingers now upon
the edges of heart’s
sweet sanity;
lost to time, and this beating thought,
and the distant pain,
that coldly flows…
frustration
This heart, too open to be
Closed and too aching
To be heard
Lies prostrate among the flowers
Of my life, weeping
For change…
Soundless, countless waves of
Frustration wash over in
Gray and red and blue
Longing for that inexorable
Something that will enliven
And brighten
And free this heart to fly
Alas, imprisoned within my own
Design
I am but autumn flowers fading
Amidst the coming winter
longing from long ago
this longing is a fire in my
chest; beating, flowing, fiery
heat that will not cool
oh, why do you play me so?
my music… but bits of your soul…
as your fingers silently tune my
strings until my voice is a low moan
asking for more
you are my savior and my warden
and this heart is burning
and down low, within these loins,
the strings of love tenderly vibrate
as eternal echos of your touch
replace reality with
slow deliberate movements
sounding through time and space…
how i feel you now, upon my heart
wickedly licking the wounds your absence
left there long ago
Foothills of eternity
Oh, fragile heart
Yearning
Stretching towards
A completion
An annihilation
Of self into that which
Provides for more..
And though the darkness
Yet dwells within the corners
Of memories rooted
And left forgotten
To rotten and
Twist into folds of time,
The light of truth is a sword
That cuts down and out
All that no longer serves..
So grasping at the edge
Of a metal cliff
This heart reaches to
Combine the disparities
Into a bridge
That may grow wildflowers
Across the foothills of
Eternity
the SIBYL'S SONG 