Best Unfelt Poems

Poems flowing from my heart
Words filling sheets of paper
Feelings pouring through stanzas
Until rhymes make sense

Who says what should be written
Who says what should be felt
Only...

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To become one

Even if moonlight is broken
and wild flowers wilt
beneath a stolen sun
lost in a twilight song,
sung in off key silhouettes
along a choral reef
drenched in...

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I have come to accept the possibility
that I, myself, may be partially to blame       (my compost pile of shame)...

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Rage festered within my wounded soul
darkness swallowing all hope, peace
a wingless dove – denied…..  Truth the
lifeless lie of separation’s connectedness.

Eyes closed – I saw...

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WHY


Why? 
Why, oh my soul, you perpetually 
Are yearning to: 
See the unseen 
Hear the unheard 
Feel the unfelt 
Touch the untouchable
Attain the unattainable 
Believe...

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Endless Days and Centric Tales
A clock that’s frozen, its purpose failed
A change of pace and a constant flow
The Great River of Time, sluggish and slow

Stuck...

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We created a dream…
A collage of triumphs hoisted high,
We spun a misty halo
And left 
brisk utterances hidden inside 
our pensive sigh

They redrew
a nexus of sun...

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“Memories Leave Silently”**


The memories leave silently
so as not to disturb the now
tiptoeing through darkening corridors
stirring only motes of hidden dust.
Sliding through the grasp of weakened...

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Waiting for the music of your footsteps
as you reach the top of my stairs
to apartment two twenty five
waiting for that surprise knock
yet very much anticipated...

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At Once Into Blind Empty Space, At Once Into Her Arms



How can it be
Something so unwittingly described
Can break me
Remake me
Turn me to the sorriest of...

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A cuddlesome babe when
The norther came
Wind-brushed cheeks,
She cried.


Mama pulled over a blanket on her face,
Ducked her own snooded head
Walked toward home
And warmth.


Off to school another...

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Has my breath of life expired? 
My will congealed 
No longer is there a fire ablaze, only a mere pile of smoldering ashes Waiting for...

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The broken wings of the lonely bird, painfully curled,
fold inside the malleable bruised mind,
can’t fly in the chill of the winter wind,
nestles within me, nobody...

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Why is it the intransigent
find the intransigent
to be pigheaded, willful,
inflexible and pertinacious?
Engaging, as it were,
in an endless “tug-o-war”
neither side allowing
for consideration of 
the fallibility of...

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The Scent of Water


The air is dry, bone-dust dry,
carrying the odor of despair,
shimmering in its pseudo sky
dreams of what was never there.

Eyes, dry-crusted, cannot discern,
delusion...

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