Changes in tow,

A simmering



Life of solitude,

A nested



Kept high

Above them,

Floated down

For a brief


Roosted in

Plaintive silence…


The Rose

How easy it is to rub

Against eternity,

To fall back bruised.


A rose’s sides,

Tarnished by



Close encounter with

The unseen,

Love unknown to itself.


Beauty unbeknownst to

Its maker,

Scraped away by winter’s



Smoked away in summer,

Bent below its full potential.


A spring to perk up its


Autumn to bed the petals.


A soft voice to caress,

The heavy drone to blow down.


Beneath its center,

A world of wakefulness,

The above universe

Swirling into regret.


A farmer to tend its


A city man to trample

Its petals.


In the light of day,

Risen to a great new height,

Basked in the glory of God

Once more.

In Place of Beauty

Turning me in to the prisoner keepers…


I’ve faulted your sacred soul.


Embittered glass,

The surveying lense holding

It’s tempest steady.


The telling is in silence,

Distance creasing folds of

A relationship overturned by



Crystal skull radiating


Hot candle wax adrip,


Hardening truths…


Can you remember our time?


Roof sitting, galaxy gazing, warm conversation

Hazing our darkness,

Separate dynasties we belong to…


Steady tempest in scrunched hands.

Your will is to love me, but

You don’t know how.


Men I’ve met,

Unlike your quiet reflecting spirit,

Unlike the drum you beat,

Unlike the difficult path you walk in

Search of justice.


For the sake of bringing

Halves into reunion,

Can you forget the angry slashing


The selfish winds,

The wrecking thunder,

In place of BEAUTY?

Lost on My Lips

Your lost on my lips,



The poetry you’re sleeping

On, giving away the silent



Fires you’ve stoked in

Your secluded pleasure,

Shaded from my thirsting gaze…


It was a play of fools and lovers,

Ships rocking on a tempestuous sea,

And you’re running from me into

Greater isolation.


Hoping to seduce me in a

Hidden cave,

And I’m asking where is my



The lips you’ve torn from the drooping


A saddened clown beaten down

By the world’s twisted antics.


I’ve seen the letters you wrote,

Blood in the pen draining

Towards a masked lover in

Forgetfulness of beauty.


You’ve read your poems to

No audience, holding the

Creases of past failures with love

In a tightened gaze and pursed lips…


Running after your Juliet,

Yet another maiden

Stands in your wake,

Taken by the silent passion,

Now the makings of an ash pyre.


It has been years since you’ve faced

Her, memory botched by time’s torn



Yet you are taken by the dark eyes,

The sway of a long lace skirt,

The creamy divulgence in swollen

Fingertips searching…

The sacred peace.


Love’s bitter season loosened,

As beauty floods in again to

Make the petals push out

Of dry encrusted soil…