{ … lines … }

when the lines are angled in,
don’t pretend you’re lonely;
when the pattern’s closing in,
don’t put on you’re sad —-

light does as it always does,
friendship is, where effort was,
though the lines be sharpened in,
much is to be had

if we see that image is
little more than lies;
when we see the way is ours,
then, to our surprise,

we can read between the lines
past our fear, and doubt —-
for the lines that angle in
also angle
out

a winter window

her heart looks through the winter window

wondering, and wandering

in futures yet-to-come or ever be —

the lights are coming down, and she’s

meandering and maundering

out in the cold of irreality

 

her heart is like a broken arrow

still it tries, each waking day, to fly —

and even though

the way be frozen,

she still hears her heart’s soft

lullaby

 


Picture credit : ID 82228349 Tatsiana Hraiko | Dreamstime.com

The Day You Know

The day you finally, really know,
The world comes into focus clear:
It may be chilled by wind and snow,
But all the warmest times seems near —

For though the heart be bruised and sore,
And we feel far away from shore,
The pull will come, the hope, the yearn,
As tide comes back, with love’s return.

It’s Always Dark These Days

It’s always dark these days,
If the sun comes up, it’s somewhere else –
It’s always dark these days,
And I try and try, from this bleeding head,
To give truth to the lies, and revive the dead —
But it’s always dark these days.

It’s always cold and wet,
But I know there’s a fireplace, somewhere else –
It’s always cold and wet,
But I seek, and I search, from this open cell,
For the means and the strength to get out, and well,
But it’s always cold and wet.

And if dreams were like water,
And happiness, cloud,
I’d pull them in close,
Like a funeral shroud,
And I’d lay down to rest
With a smile in my heart,
For the days I was wiser
Than I am smart —

It’s always dark these days,
So I’m grateful for whatever I can see –
It’s always dark these days,
And although it seems vast, and thick, and deep,
I know light is for giving, and not just to keep;
I have to keep trying to conquer my doubt,
For if no one gives love,
Then none ever goes out —
Even though it’s dark

These days

See The Stars

On nights when we could see the stars,
We wondered at the glory;
Ablaze in constellations, each
With some amazing story.

The sky turned blank; our love a thing
To place in a museum —
But, oh, the stars, they’re still up there:
Even when we
Can’t see them

Remedial Living

We will always be just what we are.

A profound thought occurred to me,
Although it’s a tautology,
And that’s that we will always be
Just what we are: humanity —

The arguments that we’re drawn in
Of sex or sect, of class or skin
Are such that we can never win
And really, what they’ve always been:

Excuses. With our eyes turned out,
We void humility and doubt
That late, could help us turn about
And start a loving plant to sprout —

Because we’re human, we can be
So many things, but we are free
To stretch our moral paucity
With faith and hope and charity

About That Dream You Had Concerning Me

You dreamed of seeing me up there,
Alas, I never made it;
I moved beyond, to other things,
And your hopes slowly faded

Oh yes, you had so many plans
For this fly in the ointment:
I was a minor talent, but
A major disappointment