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: writerscommunity
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
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
Train Whistles
The lack in me is but a distant
Echo of train whistles
Always promising to arrive
At my empty station to let
Off the passengers that might fill
My soul with something more
Than nothing
And yet my twisted fingers
That hold these wasted tickets
To nowhere grip my heart with
Longing for that which
Only lies singing in the distance
For nothing stops at a dead station
But more nothing
Silent desire
The slow run of summer has almost
Reached a finish
The heat is but a last stand
For impending cool…
Birds have abandoned nests
For a lack of need,
As squirrels scurry to find acorns
To chew….
And my heart; once a fiery ball
Of remembered pain
Is now changed by forgiveness
Into a colder harder better protected
Me
Will you still follow after a cooler flame?
Or leave this game of chance to a
Higher power?
My heart may be blue, but my head
Is aflame with silent desire
A dream
The race against what
Followed me was strong-
I was running through time
To avoid being captured;
Into bedrooms of folks I didn’t
know, and cars I stole that
Weren’t mine
I was running to avoid a darkness
That followed my soul
And demons that tracked me
Through hell’s gates,
And emotion’s swell-
And then I awoke…
and realized that which looked
To find my soul- was already inside
This heart of mine- and I was running
From myself
Falling tears
Oh broken heart, you
Try so to keep this
Life force flowing
Though with each cursed
Beat you lose more
Of the love you’ve stored
And while you suffer
At the hands of a ticking clock
This mind, abandoned
To the refuse of longing,
Floats upon rain clouds
Of suffering
Until all that’s left
Of this soul
Will be falling tears
Uninspired
So uninspired
What was once boiling
Is now a slow simmer,
Flame turned down low;
And thought caught somewhere
Inside ether
Is inaccessible to me…
This fire that once flowed
Is but a soft remembrance
Within memory
How it all once just overflowed!
What would this heart give
For such inspiration again
Menacing
Walls of barbed wire
Line the boundaries of
This prison
Prickly to touch and
Somewhat dangerous
This steel cage keeps thoughts
Inside while the world turns
On the other
And while there is safety in
Keeping the outside world at bay
The lack of freedom that comes
From these protective measures
Is that much more
Menacing
Anger
Anger is knocking at my door
Asking to be let in
Her hands are full of pity,
A twisted elixir that
Turns everything into haze
And blame…
Yet I know sorrow’s dampening
Clouds are not far off
If I drink anger’s potion of
Forgetfulness
And my heart cannot take more rain
There’s nothing left inside
But darkness and pain
And anger is but a mask I would use
To hide from myself, damaging
This poor trodden spirit yet more,
Until there’s nothing left for me
To protect or endure
the SIBYL'S SONG 