Faith
Keep the faith…
There’s a light
you’ve got to believe it
Even when you can’t see it
Like right now…
You might be thinking, like how
Am I gonna get out?
Might be the darkest time in your life.
But things are going to change…
One day
The gray skies will go away
Wanting to die will be a thing of yesterday.
While it might be hard to imagine
How is all of this going to happen?
You’re gonna need to trust God…
He gave you life for a reason
He sees your pain
He’s with you
He ain’t leavin
He loves you
Believe him.
the art of loving
She loves me more than the moon
She told me the other day,
As I tried to imagine
How much can one love the moon?
But I know my love for the stars
On a cold night
Brings me warmth
Immersed in a dark sky.
She removed her glasses
And looked at me, smiling, she said
“I can see my reflection in your eyes,”
I touched her face, on both sides
And tried to see mine.
There are those moments
Too deep to speak,
Too close to touch,
Just long enough to breathe.
It’s those times when life
Is perfectly balanced
Between the bitter and sweet,
And the after taste is like the after glow
In the late afternoon,
When the orange sun dips into red
Turning the day
into the hour that burns
Leaving the remnants of pretty colors
Slowly fading.
There is an art to loving
And letting go,
Swinging through the layers of pain
-Being afraid
While holding tightly onto hope.
If it hurts myself to love you
I will love you still
And if it hurts you to know what true love is
I will still not withhold it from you.
You say you love me more than the moon,
I say I love you more than the stars,
But true love is not measured by size
But by how far.
She said that she loves me
more than the moon.
She told me this the other day
I tried to imagine,
just how much can one love the moon?
winter’s tussle
Theres a war
That winter brings
When the birds stop
Singing,
An incessant restless night
With no end-
No beginning.
Intriguing shadows
Depict battles
Made by the firelight
In evening…
And it keeps me dreaming.
Glorious
Is the day that comes
After Decembers longest night
peaking solstice.
The sun is finally
Irradiating down
On Embittered numbness,
Warmth and solace—
giving back
Every dream
—That February ever
Stole from us.
Exchanging memories
Of endless summer days
Heavens ports,
Now open to us.
Winter
never should have been.
Underneath the sun
Where everything lies frozen.
Nightmares
Crystallize in chunks
Of Ice, on a vast and
boundless sea of preserved dreams.
Death a refuge.
deep sleep,
A stolid slumber.
The inconsolable,
The freshly
Broken.
Life Comes to all
In both,
toll and token.
Frost begets the snow
The snow begets the storm,
The storm in tandem
Wages
Against the refugees of war.
What wistful wishes winter brings,
What rue the hare more than being damned to white?
When voices no longer are singing
And hearts,
No longer
ringing?
avenues
There are places that never seem to change
only the measure of paces up old avenues.
There is never a need to adjust my eyes
to the familiar timelessness of adolescent
railroads and blue skies.
Landmarks welcome me like old friends,
But some have vanished like the deceased,
I watch phantoms fill my streets
As I stand on sidewalks.
Memories roll like film
projecting my favorite scenes on
brick buildings.
The kids that sit on benches
And the small town clerks
greet my face with unaccustomed eyes
as I wander like a strolling vapor
peering through faint shop window glass,
appearing to be a novice in strange land
even though,
all of the while,
all of these hidden crossroads
that perplex these avenues
are elaborately strewn across my hand.
Judas tree
He’s as brave as a coward
who condemns.
He’s as guiltless
as a liars
confession.
He’s as wise as the steps
taken on the plank
whose ends
he knows
are death.
He falls
like a bullet
descending,
with no intentions
to relent.
And,
he swings
like a child
who’s
lamenting
with his face down
in a desolate playground.
He rocks
like an old
wooden chair, left alone
on a parched wood floor
squeaking like a rusted door,
spent
too many days in the rain.
He creaks like a
dead tree.
Billows groans
thru a somber forest.
Swaying back and
forth
in a subtle
breeze.
Winds whistle songs thru his
hollow bones and skull, like
ancient natives playing wooden flutes.
He hangs as
heavy as a weary mans chest
downcast
his face!
Wishing he could change the past
Wishing he could run away…
He hangs-
He hangs.
He slips into the noose
of self defeat. . .
He hangs with a hopeless
sorrow -
dangling
strangled
from the Judas tree.
Bitter shame
Rots his bones
to the marrow.
A victim
of his own
demise.
Crows plucking at his blackened eyes
Once beloved, yet
departed
like a lifeless limb,
bruised and black
from decay, crum-
bling
to pieces- in-
dismay.
Back against the deserts setting sun
Behind a bold and tragic
Silhouette. . .
His countenance-
a saddened shadow;
Behold
The Man
Who wallowed
in regret,
Who cast his jewel
before the swine, trading in his life
for a chattering-chapped
Skeletal wind chime- gripping
30 pieces of silver with
bony fingers,
he
hangs,
he
twists,
he spins.
Raven forsaken scarecrow
Iscariot betrayal.
Restless,
suspended above the earth
for the fowls of the air,
he lofts a wreaking scent that draws
the dogs to his feet.
when i look at the moon
When I look at the moon
I see a man who has lost his way.
When I look at the stars i see people standing together
When I look at the trees
I see the young and old still growing.
When I look at the sky
I see a world that never changes.
When I look at the birds
I remember that I do not need wings to fly;
Freedom is to be fully alive.
To live is to love from the heart
to accept that your heart will break.
When I look at the ice moving along the river
I see that pain is a pathway to peace
It flows in the currents of acceptance
Causing the waters to taste more sweet.
great abyss
Dark hours arrive on
bright days,
Blossoms
On graves.
Sadness makes it’s way
Past laughter
In subtle streams
And tidal waves.
Heart break
Is the ache
Of a great abyss,
There’s no bottom
To sorrow, and
no way to resist.
Warm skies
Smeared by
Tears of pain.
Soul cries
Dulled by
Tones of gray
Faces
Of loved ones
Taken away.
frightening is the sun
Tears are changing color
red, yellow, and orange
they fall,
dried up-
they’re tossed in the wind
tumbling down along the sidewalks,
near the curbs.
Sudden sadness
freezes on the grass,
it’s the first frost of October.
Pumpkins grin
Carved and emptied, aglow
Others frown-
Mean fire through their teeth.
the branches of the trees
Beckon
Outstretched
Stoic and bare.
Harvest moon shines
brightly, with gloomy eyes
Watching helplessly
Those
dancing atop
the tears that drop.
Days that are perfect shining
Dim faultless
Riptides of panic
Deconstructing
thoughts Into static
Like the warmth of blood that drips
Down the thorny briars
Pricking my mind ’till it’s numb.
Swallowed in the days passing shadows
Adrift meandering
Beneath the crooked constructs
of asymmetry,
Illusory trickery.
I disintegrate
Into frail collective pieces,
Hoping to reassemble
The memories
That time would rend asunder-
Counting the numbers
Back to one.
Frightening is the sun that sets
Upon the hopes that never had the chance to rise
Before the fears that strangled
Every
promised love
in time-
Smothering
every
silent cry.
Child of the spring
Wishing at some opaque well
Of dreams,
Decayed and withering
streams of smoke
lofting from a dozen, once,
Ignited candle sticks.
Wax slowly drips
From the blackened wick
and freezes,
Just like ice cold sweats
That damp your bed in sleep,
Beneath the moon that mourns
All night,
and weeps,
It’s just another Halloween.
dawning
As the realization was dawning on me
I felt a piece of my face slip off and hit the ground
Causing my skin to run
In all directions
As if it were butter on bone
Slowly more pieces came
Like a melting candle
Exposing a fried wick at the core
I tremble at my fragility
Shake like a fearful animal
I piece my head back together
But backwards
Walking sideways
On the highway
With eyes on each side
Of my face
upside down