The shards of glass
    seem to be all I see
on the floor.

             I smashed the mirror
      very ****** with my fist,
             but what for?

I'll pick up each piece
     and try not to cry
as I explain.

          My mind exploded
     looking fast into the past
          revealing my pain.

I've lied, stolen,
     cursed, but the worse
was the repetition

       My mind was
healed from the concealed
   acts of reminiscing.


The past two years
     have sped as I fled
from my youth.

                     Now I'm here
                confused and amused
                         at the truth...

It's been a hard time
     coping while hoping
to be at peace.

                     I plan to go
                        far away one day
                            after the last piece.

Torn lovers meet once every night
yet never as one in heavens sight

Orphillia  -

Hast thou no words of comfort now
to ease my troubled heart to rest
to take from me my fevered brow
and deep set ache of risen breast

My soul cries out for one as he
that from my sight is absent made
as futile need and want set free
in rivulets of tears cascade

For such am I of royal birth
of noble stock and silver spoon
and yet my heart attains not worth
when his and mine beat out of tune

....

Tacio

I dare not speak for fear she hears
the trembling of my muted tongue
that I wouldst taste those wasted tears
that from her eyes unjustly wrung

I beg the shadows let me hide
lest I were seen and thought unkind
watching her pain that wounds my pride
knowing that love is not so blind

For I a common fellow born
of lowly stock from country folk
am bound a bondsman here this morn
by words I am afraid unspoke

.....

there is a poem
I want
to write

but I am not sure what
it is about,
what it might
say,
or even
how it might
begin

but I know I want to write it
and I know that somehow
the rain will teach how

so I sit, door open
and listening, trying to
hear the message
the world is trying
to say

eyes darting one way,
try to catch each other
when no one else
is watching,
smiling when it happens,
giggling inside our
heads,
thinking:

*oh yes
this will be
fun

My front doors hinges
soon have to be replaced.
And it's sad because
it's not just from old age.
The amount of people
that have entered my life
and then left, is phenomenal.
The roses in my front yard,
have also wilted and crumbled
see, they were forgotten and trampled
when you showed up.
Now their petals are just litter
on my overgrown lawn
which i no longer have the strength to fix.
and if the fact that my garden gnomes
were all smashed to pieces
isn't bad enough, then i guess
the wall paper thats peeling
is probably worse.
But it's cold in here,
everyone's ghosts seemed to have stayed
when they all left.
I'm alone in this house,
i'm alone in here
because these memories always fade.
My house is losing it's colour
even when i throw around the paint.

Never
taint my lips
with your goodbyes
let them never taste the emptiness
of space
unfilled by your sweet mouth
pressed close

I want to be a character in a story.
Not the main character, as I don't want to be notable,
or even be given written actions or words.

To be someone part of the scenery,
In the background,
Who may as well, not exist at all.

I want to exist from day to month,
From hour to minute.
Only, without knowing what that means.

Without knowing what it means
To exist from a time to a time.
I want to experience only the good and only the bad.
There would be no gray area.

My story would not contain
"He woke up, walked three steps to the door, and made a sandwich."
Only, "he fell in love.
he avoided being run over by mere inches,
he, on the beach, bathed in the smooth rays of the sun on a hot glorious summer day."
There would be no boring, pointless, gray area.

These words would be written by the hand of another
Existing only in the imagination of the reader.
I would not even be in the words,
But only the imagery in the mind.

This is my wish, all my hopes and dreams.
To exist in fiction and remain unseen.

What is freedom?
What is sentience,
But the awareness of how to be unhappy.

He is above understanding altogether.He is the greatest mesmer. Always. Ever. A mystery. Above rationality by countless staircases. Square on the ground but floating and flying. In front of me. Behind me. Adjacent and in between. In places that don't even exist.  A single thing. Higher and greater than the highest and greatest. He made himself lowest for the low and the nameless. Making many a face for many a faceless man. Changing the unchangeable by changing into human skin. His name is Jesus. He is the illuminating dark.He is praised by songs that don't even come from lips. He speaks the language of the universe.After all the universe is language. Likely in verses. "Let there be light" he spoke the words and they were. The universe is language and it's speaking simultaneously. I am drowning in him, not even wanting to breathe, sliding fluidly through a 3D crystal sea that seems to breathe. Surrounded as far as the eye can see, farther than the edge of my dreams. It is kissing me awake and madly maddening me to sleep. He is looking at me lovingly. They are romancing me.  A sea of black boxes. Black boxes the colors of rainbows. Thick and smoothe like molten marshmallow, flowing overhead and underfoot, i am begging to be ambushed by their undertow. Square and solid black boxes that flow,like two  synchronized streams, in velvet synchronicity, a marriage of both extremes, This is paradox in reality. I am pleading to be painted oblivious but i don't know, maybe i am jaded by invisible star-songs, not even knowing I've spent my life humming along. I'm lost in the knowledge that i do not know. Letting my spirit marvel breathlessly at the breathtaking beauty of my soul. This is the universe. Un-understood and undeniable.

I saw with my own eyes
the perfect portrayal
of beautiful indifference.

I saw it in the blue-green shades;
the swirling ocean waves;
bright stars in a dark, cool galaxy.

You held yourself,
back straight,
teeth white,
hair brushed,
and skin tan.

And I was bemused
with your wonderful perception.
Half your words whispered,
"Listen, I'm beautiful,"
but the other yelled softly
your impeccable intelligence.  

A true wonder;
a confusing marvel;
your blue-green eyes,
your sparkling smile,
and your wrathful blade,
sheathed behind a perfect portrayal
of beautiful indifference.