Let Me Have This Final Dance (a poem)

The smell of your fragrance ignites me
Pulls me closer to your secret self
Those inner energies you keep
From the eyes of the visible world
The energy swirls around inside you
It has me locked in an ecstatic trance
Come, take my weather-beaten hands
And let me have this final dance

We’ll dance for the moon and stars
We’ll kiss under rays of light
We’ll dance and hide our scars
We’ll agree to never take flight
From each other, you’re like no other
I’ve ever seen or been with

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We are Met with Silence (a poem)

I. Relativity

Have you noticed?
The homeless population is increasing
In the LA tent encampments
Surrounded by luxury cars
They plan to change the world
They are our only hope

At night, they bake beans over trash-can fires
Tell stories of their downfalls
And imaginary triumphs
Then they cuddle up in their tents
And scream into the void
They are met with silence

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The Black Mist (a poem)

The black mist rolled around me

And the vase shattered into a million pieces

The flower petals it once held

Orange, red and yellow, they were all scattered around

The pieces are now jagged and sharp

Piercing my skin deeply with every try to collect them

Maybe I’ll make a mosaic of them one day

And hopefully that image is as lovely as the vase used to be

(Photo by Fabien TWB on Unsplash)

Searching for Wholeness (a poem)

Searching for wholeness, never out of reach
The constant push-and-pull of emotions
Ebbing tides of epiphanies and stagnation
It’s always right there – inside of us

A walk through the neighborhood
Among swaying trees and greenery
Sometimes you forget nature could
Soothe your senses and bring you back
To the center of everything

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Blue Thoughts (a poem)

We had blue thoughts back in those days
When it seemed, the skies were always gray
What were we thinking in those days?
Only to get away from that place

Youth is carefree, except when it’s not
When the troubles of blackened days
Cloud a mind that eventually strays
And wants to cut the cord of thought

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A Stranger to Myself (a poem)

I am a stranger to myself
My face in the mirror is not recognizable
Shadows peering from the corner
Cover my countenance

Alienation, deep and bitter
An outsider to the process of life
On the summer-soaked beach of eternity
Split off from my subconscious

Ghostwalker, the sun is a fickle mistress
And the Egyptians were right to fear
The ultimate power of the Sun God
Who takes no prisoners

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Hauntings in the Dawn (a poem)

Ghosts in this house make no sound
They are only around to watch
Flashing images of my mind
And extract memories from times
I dwell in forsaken chambers

They belabor the process of death
Let’s get it over with, we say,
Let’s kill these emotions during
The bright light of the day –
Instead of waiting for fire-soaked
Nights under harvest moons
And pastures of bitter gloom

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Before the Altar, We Pray (a poem)

Before the altar, we pray
To gods of the forest-night
They hear us in our anguish

Remove us from televised carnage
And mass murder of dreams
In America, nothing is as it seems

We trek to the forest at nightfall
By light of neon and longing
It smells of fire-smoke and dust

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Where Does the Eternal Lie? (a poem)

Where does the eternal lie?
Some things can’t be seen with the eyes,
Like infinite doom-loops in my mind
And the everlasting disguise of
Angels and demons

The deity is malicious; he crushes me
Between endless surging waves
On undying shores of violence;
Where does the eternal lie?

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Liminal Spaces (a poem)

What is this enchanted place?
You look as though you’re my killer
But no, you’re the savior of those
Lost to tendrils of dark philosophy

When I saw imprints of the Psalms
Tattooed on your grizzled face,
I knew straight away you’d save
Me from this god-forsaken place

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