The crack that widens; an empty well.
Derelict neon signs, the afterglow of fantasia -
soot raining and a seed suspended in twilight.
A searing forge and the hollowed husk of a small town.
Ten thousand voices raised in solidarity and a silent, lonely vow.

The raiment of nobility,
the plumage of life.

A new year

Why do we end here again and again?
You'd think we'd learn...
But what good is learning, when
all you do is end in fire.
The hateful knowledge - and ignorance - of pain.

Uppers, Downers, and blissful numbness
this, then, is paridiso?
Dante should be so lucky.
Drugs? Yes? No? 
Take a hard hit of fanatcism.
As long as they're wrong, sure you're right.

Satisfaction guaranteed -
Save your soul on a 1-800 number.

Who knew weddings were so touchy, feely?

The Circus

Perhaps you wished upon a star,
sought divine help or karmic winds,
For naught?  Silence reigned.

Not in void, as earnestly your lives grew,
but without hint of what would come anew.
Happiness and despair had their time,
as to, the plodding days much the same.

And so we come to the present day,
and I know not who to blame.
A faerie godmother with a pithy phrase?
Nothing more - or less - than a little luck?
Or maybe, an Irish boy with just enough pluck?

The truth is it matters not,
Echoing cliche, love found a way.
Resigning me to hope that maybe,
just maybe, I too will have my day.

These things I've done.

A Table by the River

The brilliant Moon holds no joy for me.
It's soft glow, cast of silver or gold,
Ought to be a treasure to behold...
No longer.

The beams of light imprison my soul.
Powering the Ocean's tides,
The Moon stirs my memories.
Tainted not of its own design -
It's in my mind the taint resides.

Trauma?  Tragedy?
I cannot say it is so,
This is what lays me low:

Under a Moon wondrously bright,
Our fates shone.
A stream of liquid light,
Washing away our faults.

Leaving bare... all her beauty
                     all my beauty
              all our beauty
       all a memory.
Beautiful. Alone.

From my time on the lamb...

The Stranger

Absurd. Endlessly Absurd.
Alice had it easy.
A trip down the rabbit hole,
A known unknown.
Where was she?
How did she get there?

Rubbish. The easy end of Absurdity.
Marvels and Monsters without -
Confusing? Yes. Frightening? Sure.
Not maddening as monsters within...


Seeking

Don't make mountains out of molehills,
or so the saying goes.
Sound Advice, Folk Wisdom,
Fatally Flawed.

A molehill is a mountain
... if you are small enough.
... if you feel small enough.


Rocket's Modern Life

Chasing the answer,
the McMagic happy meal.

Find the angle, make the grade,
Dancing on life's razor blade.
Turbo charge your time,
Erase the scars left behind.

Crystallizing perfection's palace,
One step ahead, getting there again.

Footsteps of Faith

The world is quiet, shy rays of light hint at the day to come
Eyes drifting in and out of focus, flickers of memories rouse my mind.

I gaze at the girl lying peacefully by my side,
Sleeping, she somehow sports an impish expression.
A Fae creature, come to steal my heart…
If only – tis but a dream of days gone by.

A memory surfaces, rising above a mire of half finished thoughts:
The night we met. I should have known then.
Glowing under a full moon, I fall beneath her spell –
The question ought never been in doubt.
Lost in her joy of living, I slip outside myself;
Tortured soul reaching out tentatively.
Reaching toward the spirit, the soul glimpsed in her eyes.

And yet… And yet, I never made it.
Shackled by years of pain, the truth hid deep within.
Gone. Chased away, her soul roams free.
Sinking to the dark depths, the light fades.
My heart embraces its frozen fate.
Pressure mounts, crushing what little hope remains.

The strain broke me. And yet…
And yet, the shackles broke too.
Sunk beneath the past, soul finally freed.

Free to be me, Free to answer the riddle
Answer with what I knew all along:
Love. An answer found too late…

Gone. Happily she chases her dreams.
Lying alone, I can but smile and hope -
Hope someday her soul glimpses mine.

A Cognitive Bore (aka A Long Answer)

Witless Wit, Drawling Dope
He'll never go quiet, despite our hope.
Dithering here, Blundering there
He continues to talk; does anyone care?

How little we must be to warrant a pause,
How foolish are we beneath his towering cause
How grateful are we for his keen insights,
Questions? No, but he'll answer...

His words bury thought beneath their weight
We can but commiserate
Stupidly we sit before a one man debate.
Facts he has in legion
He's made our decision,
Why care? He's still there.
Defenestrate his Truth.
I've. Learned. Nothing.