Upon the tragic ships
Sending off collections of fragile paintings
Stained with bled fears and imaginings,
A singular heartbeat skips
Over the secular mist
As breath over winter is kissed.
Inside the feathery miles –
Dreams come undone, at the peak
The moon did display its final visage.
A funereal, porcelain deception
Weeping for pain’s conception.
I can heal the waters, mend the oceans
Torn apart to the ship’s motion.
I can wait, while fog surrounds
These feet nailed to the hollow ground.
Defeat and loneliness, the truest art
To devise a nautical fatality
In the uprise, to the storm
When the heart could not restart.
Broken rhythm, faded face in a puddle,
An hourglass for time’s symptomatic muddle.
I hold sadness on shared circumstance
Within the weather of broken dreams,
Bleeding air, fading in these streams
Where denial runs in happenstance –
To the eclipse, to the scenery
Where forms divide to share the sight,
While eyes caress the merge
Upon sun with tearstained moon.
Modern Romanticism 