‘Our’ little patch of ground

Tender little kisses, that’s what she is
hugs that bound the horizon
and gentle caressing hands that strewn my hair
she makes the sun shine brighter,
and fills my life with care.

Oh how the sweetness of tenderness
does shine away the shadows
no more despair in my plain views
melancholy all stripped away,
my lavender dancing muse.

I want to fly the clouds within your veil
and to always touch upon your stars
the ones that sing from out your voice
rippling through my vision,
making my humble heart rejoice.

Is this too much for one to ask
the subtle walk through open fields
to know the love is here not lost
among the clatter of the wields,
where devotion is a trying game
to see who will get what and when
money, material, children, commodity
the vicious cycle to no greedy end.

Nay, I say with covered ears
my eyes enshrouded with straining tears
and all the darker staring leers
that turn to my dismay.
But lo, I turn to see my light
she glows in all variety
shewing me the less plundered path
away from the common society.

She makes me whole and fills me up
my little world of knowing
that no one cares who we will love
or for what our deepest reasons;
and to look upon the rigid brows
of those who choose to move in strife
can never quake or shake our grounds
for ‘we’ are the creators of ‘our’ life.

A life to tell the tale

Let us not forget the shadows way
when the Earth itself does crawl
where the waters run cold and still
that twist of blade upon the flesh;
running deep as a cutting shrill,
it cuts beneath the layers of skin
that gently cuddles above the bone
moving past the muscles flesh
till it reaches the death of home,
grips and knuckles seize to cry
at the wavering, loosening soul
eyes roll back in the fear of awe
as the veil opens wide for the whole,
and then the darkness it does approach
with its tendrils and lingering note
scraping along an endless mass
the skin goes pale and dry the throat.

“And where in life did it hold its worth
oh little little twisting soul
was the heart your sailing vessel
love and care its giving goal?
Or were the worms of want and need
your hunger over the starving
anger, hate, and bigotry
poison seeds of greedy farming?”

For the price of a book

I can feel the solus
for people
alone in their loss
and the empty gains
of what was hoped
to be love,
but they sit
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
upon each other
when two become one
and the union
complete,
all gone now
nothing more
than a turning page
and the value
as little or less
as such.

The foundation

Oh gentle sway
such pretty gravel
to cry out for the day,
singing songs of open sky
unraveling what come may.

Seeking bounds
in summer skins
all making for the shore,
along the sandy pebbled beach
from here and forever more.

Though sinking heart
among the waves
all trodden with no demure,
when one builds up on falsity
it crumbles at the core.

Tattered pages of fiction

I find myself in bewilderment
on a similar and darkened path
away from all the lights of hope
the same seething itchy rash,
warm Sunlight is all but put out
by the feigning of mind and heart
making one to believe
that two are not separate parts,
but the ravine is far far deeper
and its way to steep at the sides
bloody nails have tried to climb
knocked back by the echo of lies.