Above, the shrill of neon lights portend
a promise of new love in garish hues,
but for a broken life yet on the mend
the darkness of the scape brings only views
of solitude when memory accrues
as strangers unimpassioned eyes peruse.
The music wafts from grottoes down below,
blue jazz and candles in a shadowed room,
while up here floodlights cast necrotic glow
as wind gusts and the drops of rain resume.
Cold luminance is all that they exhume
just as my mind expects a rose to bloom.
Your recent death keeps looping in my mind,
no passing faces in the crowd are yours.
I walk the night, imagine you in kind
emerging through the uninviting doors
like Cathy to go dancing on the moors.
I rush beneath an eave as now it pours,
your white reflection standing in the rain,
come back to haunt the neon night again.
1/23/18
The Sea
My sleeping spirit wakes
As the town’s vespers
Climb the stairless sky
And the sea whispers.
The rushing waves crash
On the craggy
Shores of consciousness
And the sea whispers.
Like an ancient song
Or some sailor's dirge
Which the pale waves hum
As the seas surge.
Through the hidden grottoes
And deep cavern waters;
The countless demesnes
Through which she whispers.
Through some magic seashell
On some antique shore
Echoing, a thousand words
Of sage like lore.
On the earthly sod,
Of buried treasures
And sunken ships
She quiet whispers.
Like a forlorn nymph
Weeping sorrowful rivers
In some hallowed cave,
As the sea whispers;
Hoping for love’s tidings,
Her quiet vespers
Over boundless seas
Softly, she whispers.
Like a sinking swan
With broken feathers
Whose soul flies
On the sea's whispers.
So my dreaming spirit
Slumber enters
As clouds veil the moon,
And the sea whispers.
Before light
enters your
souls
your darkest hour
will come
the grottoes of your
mind
will be covered in shadow
Yes, I think that
you will find it difficult
able to find peace
when black ink night
surrounds you
The dance,however
is yours to try
You must deal with the
realities of night and day
if
you
are not
able
to
play
the game
Then you may
falter in your steps
I believe that light
can cut through darkness
and that your eyes will see
A phoenix rising from the ashes
Stroll with me on this stony life’s street
to that shiny pleasant mountain summit,
where these grottoes of life here below
will not scare us with their shadowy claw.
This road is rough, with prickly thorns along
the way; with the shadows, dark and long.
And their touch unsettling our very fabric,
and what we recognize is fear in the psyche.
And reaching that shinny rosy mount summit
there are rays of hope we will find and meet,
that shall tell us there is more to the evaded pain,
that we shall rush back to the painful plane.
Before light
enters your
soul
the darkest
hour
will take place
the grottoes of
your mind
will be covered in
shadow
Yes, I think that
you won't be
able to find
peace
when black inky night
surrounds you
Well,
the dance
is yours to move with
You must still
deal with the realities of night and day
Yes, if you
are able
to
play
the game
Then you may
falter in your
steps
I believe that
light
can cut
through darkness and
that
your eyes will
see
A phoenix rising
from the ashes
of despair
Remember the games we used to play?
On rainy days under the gray?
In the trees and through the stars,
around the bends and up to Mars.
Over rainbows and in witches' den
oh, the things we could see then.
On paths that only we could take
we flew and galloped in grass we'd make.
With annoying companions in our hand
snuck into places hid'n in the land.
In a world none but we can unlock
full of magic we'd weave with talk,
colors, solutions; the things we'd devise
predicaments and love seen through our eyes.
To see again what most cannot dream
is simple for those who once have seen.
And such as we've done can be woven again
much samely through words can beasts be slain,
and grottoes built up from the ground.
Here our golden grove IS found.
For what once was can be again
in the world of words and key and pen.
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