so many visions fractured, things i don’t remember making, ideas formed before i knew to say, “remember that you made these.” lost and broken so now, the days of aging, not a super-sleuth or power-broker, just a group of limitations smelling like the summer came too soon. i see, though, now that what is not … Continue reading "by these candles"
Blazing on the purple sea Waves of endless ecstasy Washing over you and me Soothing all our sores Sun is setting finally Blazing on the purple sea Reaching its maturity Burning to our cores Days spent in futility Striving for utility Blazing on the purple sea Trying to fight complacency — When it rains, it … Continue reading "Schematics 4"
Some people say that where they are Is where they’re meant to be; For years, I never understood – Those comments puzzled me Sometimes, you’re down and desperate, As I was, long ago: I saw no reason at the time Why it needs must be so For almost thirty years ago I tried to end … Continue reading "Nightscape"
You think about it all the time, But never have you said The weight you carry in your heart, The words within your head — But in the morning, hard and gray, You’ve known these secret pains Then covered up the traces, All the bruises and the stains. To all the world you’ve shown a … Continue reading "Stains"
let not hope disappear though chill be in the air: the winter may be here, but the garden is still there
I sat and watched the burning ones. They came in twos and threes: The night was their intoxicant, And ardor, their disease — I see them, too, in memory, They’re everywhere about — For when you are a burning one, You’re destined to Go out
A vigil kept in empty times To watch for signs of safe return; The mission of forgotten folk As long as there is wick to burn Because — well, there is no ‘because’ The world would have us recognize — But, maybe, this is what love is: To wait, to hope, To agonize
we chase at times the wild prize that runs from us unflaggingly; we track at times the quiet hope that slides and sidesteps, stealthily – or maybe, we’ve just one desire: a slender, lonely, candle-beam — that we have never chased or tracked for it’s right there, in every dream
The love that was, where does it go? Why does it slip away? She wonders, as the autumn slow Comes drifting in with orange glow, To keep her hopes at bay, To keep her hopes at bay. The love that was, why does it rage And storm to find no port? Just scribbled hearts upon … Continue reading "The Love That Was"