colored over

pretend again for me pretend again for you it didn’t need to end the false can still be true the days before the the lies were known they form a sort of schism; we’re trapped within the colored bars that constitute our prism [it’s all pretend… owen]

Joy is Presence…

Joy is presence, grief is absence — That small much is clear — What was good is never lost, or It was never here. In our being there’s agreeing If we’ll just but feel it — What is good needs take no counsel (Nor need you appeal it) For there is a sudden season: Life … Continue reading "Joy is Presence…"

A Verity

I promised her the hills and sky, I promised her all this — But one small word of truth means more Than worlds of   Hollowness

Beauty

Beauty have I loved As life’s great View behind the veil

He Loved Her

He loved her like the summer wind, She gave him life and hopefulness, He loved her like a happening That turned a pointless day to bliss He loved her like nobody could, But it took little study To see how she saw him, which was Precisely as   Nobody

confidence, that thief

back here, how strange it is, the heart is sore, as memories like lies, and sons of lies touch cold bare feet onto a frozen floor beneath a ghost they sought to idolize how comforting – the fault was never owned: there need be nothing learned or set away or carried into bright and awkward … Continue reading "confidence, that thief"