I had to let you know...

peeking through small gaps in faded white fences

cloaked in frustration under the prevailing dusk

as it collects the last blueish breaths of the failing sky

high pitched melodic howling sounds

singular static bursts of electricity

driving those last faint clouds above to ruin

we threw out an old afghan to lay on the grass

as we sat and had our promised picnic after sundown

stopping time to stare for just a little while

at all of us

the rolling echo of cannon fire

when it came time to take your place

concrete cracking hissing heat

awakened the terrible peril of your guardian angels face

causing our half swallowed silhouettes to twinkle in the sun

and all the free hearts around and near us

to breach the silent territories between us

reborn on the snowy streets that forgot us

your half opened eyes spilling sorrow

sent dry flowers to the ground

forming drifts

in endless devotion to all your Autumns

the searching eyes of the season isolates us from this

and sends us through the window as still life

Hymns of the heart blind dialouge

starlight dances off glass reflections

the timepiece casually ticking

softly

casting long shadows on the beautiful planes of your face

once I heard your singing voice

like sharp swords shaking off the tender judgement

of devotion

listening as your ghost falls away from your clasped hands

as a cast silver cloud over twilight sands

the peaceful silence of slumber slow and steady

while dawn lovingly drapes

with cold pale grace

its comforting perspectives around your bare ankles

and puts the darkest corners to rest

just for a moment

just for forever.......

The View

at a slow rolling pace

moves the corpulent moon

through the cunning clouds of the night myth

crushing the curse of razor winter

scattering all attachment and devotion to this agile season

she stands adjacent to a still willow tree

listening to the west winds sifting through her hair

a forgotten concept of unfulfilled faith

essential as a catalyst for the inspiration that she will need

to endure a stint on the clicking overgrown rooftop gardens

of black buildings

when any sane person in her place

without her warriors heart

would fall forward and drown in the still grim waters of fear

the tall trees tower around us

but for her we'll wake to sirens.

tracing paper

Her intercontinental kisses entangled in dark stars

hiding and hanging there on high

where gravity and lunar notions graze on verdant silk pastures

of slow dancing pale passing grey nimbus

she reclines there arched on the sleek backbone of night

reflected in his rusting hazel gaze

feeling the specter breeze passing through her hair

held back with a dark diamond clip

until the pale warm lace of dawn does break

and this...

this is the moment when her lost and blooming eyes

her slight sighs of morning air

serve to dominate him so completely

and keep the shadows at bay

Lonely Birds

We spent an entire spring to hear this song

we whistled wondering what was happening back East

disguised dressed in black from head to toe

sending clandestine messages home

Summers thinning mask crashing into hoping for happiness

with your hands tied to tall trees that towered around

Falls feathers painting each day deep shades

of you

on the rolling five season mountains

flat against the cobalt sky

where there the broken seas did once shine

when then in lonely droves with winds crossed

so beautiful

chasing dormant days

chasing the love you never gave

over the inland sea

through the memory of sleep on a dark and comforting

maternal shore

between the delicious smiles of the thin air

There was a time...

so lovely.

we were one

Standing there soaked on the rain fields

in the absolute vacuum of your absence

in endless maze

weightless, past days...

the fiery swirling twilight on water still as glass

it looked cool to the touch even at that hour as we entered

A dedication that ran gold reflections

to coal black inversions

emerged half remembering the consequence of your devotions

twirling in a soft shower of ash

but failing to find the bitter and subtle beauty of a world blown away

to feel the pale pulse of your haunt

to hear about her standing there

gone

standing there on our flooded roads

soaked to your beautiful bones on the rain fields

still, as somehow everything flows

in the absolute vacuum of your absence