Poem – “A Ship Full of Holes” – 3/28/2023

There’s mimicry,
among this collected imagery.
I pull in, these waters –
they’ve been reminding me
how much an ocean has grown,

one of which, I set sail
upon a form of countless holes.

Who opened fire?
Who let me sink,
with only two hands
to lend me, this rope?

For too long,
stumbling on answer
after unearthed answer,

and still
somehow, those words
were speaking
through their concealing,
dishonest filth.

A white flag,
like a mother with her
impulse, to console,
to pay her heart
at a toll – to roll her child,
cold and lifeless,
in an immaculate bedsheet.

How many times
had she, said goodbye?

Poem – “What Helps You to Doubt” – 3/28/2023

Forced observation.
Helpful, for what
has already
been understood. Have you
ever lifted a heart,
too wounded, to move?

Move on,
with those guesses,
left behind. Within rubble,
that was, always where
you crossed invisible lines,
finding me, inside
blankets of shadows.

I am bleeding
for another statement,
empty to this misery.

I am never finding
the cause. This current,
broken element,

emulating me.

With no
messages, to be sent across,
you are dividing yourself
from thinning walls.

Entrenched in brokenness,
wide-eyed, indirect
to what senses weakness,

like wolves that highlight
their fangs, beneath
lowered moonlight.

I run, with everywhere
to hide, to fall, under another
of those infinite grains.

Address Poem – “Dear Faltering Paradise” – 12/10/2022

You hear that unfolding. Pages recreate an echo. A faint call.
That sound cannot remain wrinkled, staying old –
it isn’t a memory you can leave in a grave, when its casket
will be the only thing rotting. Upon your forehead,
petals have fallen. They writhe like those maggots you hope
are feasting upon our bittersweet tragedy.
We have screamed in one corner,
while smiling in three others. Where were you?
Where are you, while I’ve had to repaint these walls
in your blank criticism? I’ve had to chip clean
darkness into white space, to rewrite meaningless realities,
colorful illusions, of you, who has been crawling
up to no mother’s arms, no crib in sight.
Read these words, entertain these lips, and leave
knowing you have walked a thin line
where a signature retreated you
to find me as broken as you.

Poem – “Where the Moon Sheds its Glow” – 11/7/2022

I keep pondering. Looking over
your shoulders and mine,
caught in a sudden dance
of unified paranoia.
I bring you closer to find eyes
exactly like mine. I hear your sighs
comparable to breezes
that send leaves spiraling.
We dance in this continual twist,
hearing our names flooded
at our decaying feet.

All we have committed
in these regained hours
is a relit torch. A heart that burns
and never wants to cry.

But this moon, above,
will keep us forever motionless,
at least in what we know.
Love burns with the chemistry,
is a connection through our minds.
Are we fearful to know something else,
something that we cannot sow?

Would we begin a flame
that might, upon another heartbeat
find its way out?

A door would close at our touch,
our eyes no longer seeking pleasure
in another blaze. Here we stay,
remaining unfazed, while someday
we’ll go gray. We’ll have words
still to store in melded hands,
to bury under quaking lands.

Poem – “If you are Waiting” – Love Poetry – 11/5/2022

If those stars can be counted,
with the melting candles
baring their relit wicks with
our hearts repeatedly beating
for no other excuse, no other reason
that wind will only move us
to each other’s arms,
as we kiss, beyond our shells,
beyond our warming Hell.

If our eyes can be found,
let us know no sound
other than rhythms heard
deep in an ocean, brought down
from a capsized pair
of abandoned ships.

If lessons are yet to be learned,
reveal what we have found.
If lighthouses were too dark to spot,
we’ll wave our white flags,
hoping those stars will find us,
or the wind will lead us
while we glide on the wreckage
of our sickened flesh.

Land on those shores, in those
cradling arms. Never yearning
for more, for anything other
than a close moment in your,
your wings that soar.

Stay in those arms. Within what
still rocks, though never sinks.
Within a space that does not
ever find its edge to a brink,
nor ever looks down.

Poem – “A Third Curtain” – Love Poetry – 11/5/2022

Rush. Touch.
With faint eyes,
limp arms, nothing is ever
halfway to being over.
We have fallen
next to each other,
looking at our clouds,
dark, but never raining.

Barren stage. We are here,
counting seconds, before
another beginning,
another act to begin playing
our scores, our shallow insights
into a betterment,
other than simple blights.

Will we find something
beyond the clouds,
beyond haze? A curtain is often
a third one, after a second chance
will leave us finally hanging.
Drifting. Sifting
for something else,
left within the tearstains,
and the fog
upon and around our scripts.

A leading moment.
To twin roles clashing
against each other,
and always trashing the other
with dismissive criticism.

We wrote reviews
for our bleeding bodies,
our numb hearts.
To more despairing glimpses
of wasted time, departing seconds
that never matter,
while that third curtain
becomes a third arm
to reach for no one’s hand.

Poetry Collection (Tears and Later Years) – Poem 16/100 – “Once more to Recognize”

I live. Your streaming fingers
trace veins where should be scars,
pass along scars where should be
your hollow kisses.
I keep connecting you
to those long pathways
where I deserted old photographs,
where I left those notes
that described all your details.
I want, though cannot
bury you, again, in a heart
made to somehow
keep beating.

You are cemented in corridors,
added as each block
to build a congested hallway.
All feelings clogged,
clotted in broken arteries
of these long stretches,
past where you tremble,
along where you soared
while you hear me screaming
every word of submission.

Those loose knots,
tight entanglements.
All irreparable symptoms
becoming clarity’s sickness.
Those connected wires
that no longer bind,
with those sudden tremors
before all tensions that blind –
I delved into your weeping heart
to exit outside of mine.

All this longing
combined with all this echoing,
as I am passing a sobbing voice
down an eternal expanse,
represents you in passion’s fire,
leaves you reflected in water
that stains these fingertips
from shallow puddles
in earthen eyes.

Miniature Poetry Collection – 5 Poems – “Skull of All I Loved” – Romanticism – 2/24/2021

Poem #1

“Awaiting Fog”

The thickness
Around your eyes.
Smother your discomfort
With ease and surrender,
For defeat to shed
Ashes to your toes.

Dance with the deepest sighs
To plume from reddest lips.
Give finality
To each falling grace.
Grab your basket
Full of the scenery you plucked,
To birth taste, from your tears.

Drunk on sorrows,
Amorous with your fears.
Laid there, not curving
To the unkind memories
That leave you open.

Sadness descends
From eyes, pulled apart,
With the cries
Among the laughter,
Not told apart.

Poem #2

“Wanting you here”

The paths our eyes bleed,
Down to the forests
Grasped in our hands,
Leaves stains, made as lakes,
Ripples waves,
Dry to the tongue.

I have laughed,
In want of a final memory
To scream our worlds close,
Full to the song
Of lungs that breathed you,
For eyes that watched you.

Of oceans, between,
Losing scarlet from your lips
In the sunset,
As you see sunrise
Engulfing the trees,
Standing up the buildings.

Leaking world
Carrying loss,
Edging out a horizon’s fold
Upon a chapter,
Where stars collide
With the black of our covers.

Poem #3

“Peeling Tears away”

Save the world
From simple imagery.
As loss falls together
With loss,
Some sighs were breathed
As though netted
By the one
Who gave the last kiss.

To graves, full of burial
For tears to water the garden
Where life begins
To churn, as a soft petal
Loses its grip
To become the pillow
To smother the eyes
Of a wilted corpse.

Some sighs were never heard,
As some winds
Are never felt.

To the tears that lose
Their precious hold,
Like petals to purify us.

Coldness from the bucket,
Drawn from the well
Of blemished sadness,
Of great burns upon the flesh
While water collides
With cremation,
To makes the ashes more visible
Than the loss.

Poem #4

“Dance, to Catch the Rain”

Waste not
The places you love,
Dearest dear.
You drink the gifts.
Of ribbon,
Dressed of paper,
Colored by children
Your eyes ignored.
They looked to your heart,
If not to your breast.

Await the words,
While sadness manages you,
Keeps you settled.
Hug close, the ghost,
For he has been the dark
In your heart.

Live the world, apart
From plainest, cruel winter
Inside where memories are yours,
The keen side
Of all that decors,
Beyond all that decays.

The losing battle,
Of a side that never takes
The grave deceased.

The undergoing struggle,
With death locked
Out its own door.

Poem #5

“A Wilderness of Wishes”

All great runaways
For their dreams, to never envision
A rope would take their neck,
As stars would circle,
To burst.

All fumbled comparisons
Drive the deep glow
Of paradise, deeper below.
Why do the people
Sing on?

Trees, same as tumbling
The fewest ants
Are not ever the type
To remember
What hearts quitted their rhythm,
With the stains of sap
From crumpled bark.

Lose the neck,
While the same cage
Surrounds the same book
Of the same burned page,
Staining fingers
Of the same familiar soot.

Poem – “Crying Upon the Beating Heart” – Romanticism – 2/22/2021

White summer
Where stillness engulfs the spirit
Of a mother, with her eyes
Nailed to the lids,
As a casket
Nails her form to the earth.

Weeping was all the world
Could release,
Of rain, silver in its puddles
Formed at the feet
Of those who dulled their sorrow
In bleakest disbelief.

The kindness
Outstretched, from arms
That yet trembled,
Laid there, upon shoulders
As if waiting for water
To be tasted from their eyes.

A funeral of much to gather,
With much to release.
Raindrops, centered on the closing stare
Of families whose hearts
Have yet to dare
To fit their lives with the ongoing.