There I go once again

I find myself in the depths of morning mist
where the sullen sounds of hardening frost and chilled breath
crumple the awakening of my hopes
like dreams scrawled upon blank papers
preparing for timely execution

I stop to steal a look at the dried stems of past
their pots cracked from winter’s touch
running my fingers over the last of the withered leaves
begging their texture an early recovery
and resolution for their patience

Where does the cold in my bones
take a turn for the worse
along the empty fields of life?
Me, just scrambling upon my ashy legs
to make my feet touch floor
and toes meet the quelled uproar
of days immersed
in endless surrender

Winter lights

Sun splashes to dash the mounting miseries of monotonous clouds
the proud thrust their chests and ingest the flavors of winter in its surreptitious shroud
The blankets of monotony are thrown off for precious light in its might and fury
I do my duty to enjoy the day
and take upon my shoulders
the piling responsibilities to the cleared debts of winter’s grey

Things better forgotten

I cannot remember
the color of your eyes
or the feel of your skin
when I held onto your arms
and we walked with the wind

I cannot remember
how you would look at me
when we proclaimed love
and professed admiration
Just two unfulfilled souls
brimming with appreciation

I do not remember
your face in all its happiness and hope
A connection of lost counterparts
roped together by the words we spoke

I must not remember
the times we spent together
for worse and for better
just two of us
hanging on to broken pleasures

I will not remember
the first time I met her
in her elegance of good measures
a diamond in the rough
a tale of new treasures

I’ll do my best to forget her
To never again open our love letters
To never again inhabit the corners of my mind
and allow her to bury me alive if I ever let her

In hopes of escape

In hopes of escape
I leap over mountains
I jump across bridges
And run through the naked plains

In hopes of escape
I leave behind the loved
I lock all doors and swallow keys
I run for the hills
Far away from the life I perceive

In hopes of freedom
I chase the stars in the sky
I fly as far as the eye
Never to understand or truly know why

In hopes of freedom
I gallop like horses
I leap and bolt like foxes
to run free for all that life offers

My feet will carry me
As far as I can go
As far as the world can throw
As long as I no longer show

But I will never be free
As I will never live in peace
Never to find a peace of mind
Never to forget everything I leave behind

Reflections under water

I plummet into the depths of the oceans
to struggle in the grips of the transparent waters
reaching for the hands that will pull me to safety
but it’s my own doing
that betrays me so greatly

I flip through the pages of this life
with little to offer the world
but mirrors of dried tears and unresolved fears
and a phenomenal distance
from the close and near

The other side

There are years when little happens
Nothing transpires
But fragments of time suspended in a limbo of waiting and failure
A test of patience
In expectation of an outcome  Sometimes less than desired

There are years we spend to fulfill duties and obligations
To please and present
To make mistakes and repent
But still to follow the seeds of our intent

We crave and claw
Grind and wear down
Through our smiles and frowns
And the rejection in our foreground

When I awaken to the bursts of magic
A fiery passion realized
The world a fusion of senses
The earth completing the intentions of my unfinished sentence

I will know the fruits of labor
are present through thick and thin
And the voices of satisfaction
echo from the pores of my skin

Looking down into the valley

When I stepped off the plane I expected the same
The old with the new
Something a little different
But still something holding true

When I look into your eyes I see distant memory
A story of the times we spent together
The years apart for worse or for better
Familiar faces kicked up by old stormy weather

I hear the tones of home in your voice
When you speak into the wind
I can’t help but look and stare
The times together
I simply can’t compare

I walk through your streets
To the blends of your solitude
In the mixture of the beautiful afternoons
And bend along with your avenues

Upon the grey concrete
I step gently with you beneath my feet
I bump and pardon through the lakesides and gardens
I walk this valley still incomplete

Star gazing

With glasses thick or thin
With purses, mascara and boots
Brunette bangs or blond curls
My head turns every time she twists and swirls her roots

I lay back upon these pillows of people
and keep an eye on the horizon so fresh
I watch her scurry past in a fury of steps
Existing only on earth
to take away the trembling sounds of my waking breaths

Like shooting stars in a flurry
I can only admire her beauty in a passing worry
A mixture of burning lights and fiery passion
She is styled to the whims of her own desires
and fashions

Dashing in sprinkles
This shooting star will forever twinkle
The flashing sparkle in her face holds true
But certainly not always for me
…and maybe it will never for you

But whether brown or green
Whether serene as sky blue
I’ve never seen stars
like I’ve seen in her eyes
I see my dreams materialize
every time I see her fly through

 

 

Delightful Disdain

It is simple to be unsatisfied
as it is difficult to be gracious
In spite
Despite those who presume innocence
and claim crudity first
outright as a stance of dissonance

Take flight away from the world we touch together
the world we make
the world that breaks whatever we wish to create for the better

The pen makes letters
for ears to take refuge from the coarse weather
upon these roads paved with good intentions
unmentioned for those who float away
detached but whole as lone feathers

There is really no past or future better
as much as there is quality in the now
but I have drowned in the age of delightful disdain
between a rock and a hard place
holding only as tough
as my skin will allow

My little broken pieces

Break me into a million little pieces
until I glitter in broken turmoil
knowing not of lasting joy
or aspiring expectations
of bountiful happiness
and endless health

My little pieces
endless in abundance
scarred and twisted
for you to hold dear

As blind as I am
sometimes I still know
that you wish to take
only the parts that suit you well
but my broken pieces make a whole
and the million little pieces
form into an entire story untold.