Undone

Quietly, my sweet to lay you down
upon prairies of unclear patterns
tattered stitching held undone
and fabric that folds in shades;
torn at the knees from the run.

The golden light of moments lost
still shutter upon the eyes
where fingers used to clear the cry
and breath of my full kisses;
now linger only such tender sigh.

Remember all the love and laughter
at the onset of our flame
when rain itself was folly
two souls in wild untame,
and now the waters a shore of tears
that fill up many buckets
where the valley has all but dried up
and silence has killed the ruckus.

My heart song

Hey, Lover,
can you hear me while you sleep?
So far away in distant places
hearing the songs of time and space
you fly among the many skies
that are shewn in many colors
filled with shapes of clouds
that will never seek our waking eyes.

Sweetheart,
can you hear me?
Among the jubilation of imagination
that carries you over mountains
lulls you into the depths of the sea
and covers you in the warmth of many suns
such feelings that will never touch our living days.

My darling,
If you listen, you will hear me.
Through the rich forests that layer the Planet
and the trickling water of sweet quartets
that lure the breath to sing
touching upon the faces you radiate
bringing the smiles of a million moons
that will fade upon your wakening
revealing the chorus of my Love beside you.

For the price of a book

I feel so alone
for people
alone for the loss
and the empty gains
of what was hoped
to be love,
but sits
in differentiation
from what was
the expectation,
where the joys
of living
and the happiness
of two
has receded,
against the tender
movements
of caring,
the breath against
the other
when two become one
and the union
complete,
all gone now
nothing more
than a turning page
the value as little
or less
as such.

Breaking in

Sometimes I hear beautiful things
and they layer over my soul
drifting past my memories
through the thick layers
of a fluid subconsciousness,
other times I see horrific images
and they blend with the shadows
melting into my imagination
over the depth of oceans,
there are places I have felt too
all around my fervent scope
exploring every facet
as a fish might swim through space
or a rabbit on the moon,
but I know what these are
they are figments of creation
a point in time where everything wishes to be
but tumbles back into the splitting seconds of the day,
where sometimes they don’t stop again…

A whole for love

I can honestly speak
from these crippled hands
that reach into the labyrinth
into the darkness of soul,
every seeking along the way
the caressing of walls
tender toes on stepping
and ears that hear weeping.

Tell me soul
where have I traversed
that I never find
someplace here nor there
transcending the heights
elusive to there fullness
and me among the maze,
speaking to love
an ever morphing face
that sheds the many tears
for me to feel
alone
in some strange place.

Tapping out the blind

I stammered across the open flay
and gathered my thoughts awry
standing by the wayward winds
the aerie songs in pitch to fly,
and upon the slated restful tear
arose the open heartfelt clear
of the infinite laying road of sheer
that walks one on to the face of fear,
and here to say I speak no cheer
upon festivities of yesteryear,
for alone we die to the living sneer;
where the coil it sheds to the hearkening.