I know a place of silence
Where one can roam about -
Touch the height of peace
And watch the morning crown.
It's a place well-hidden -
Where no worry survives -
Where no thoughts break in
And living hope abides -
Where seraphs may be found
And joy is my raiment -
Where clouds meet the ground
And keep the dewy haven.
It's under mesquite trees -
Over their medusan roots
And in mellow sun rays
And their assuring proofs.
It's by the pale mescals -
Under some tender stalk -
Between granite boulders
In shades of ochre and chalk
And among the cactus
That you'll find the place.
Dark clouds splattered morn
Glass reflects
Bleak yellow tinge of sun
The candle flame
The naked clothes
Lie upside down
On a beaded line
Not so neat but clipped
A lonesome breather
With medusan hair
Oggles thro the stains
Of the brown and dusty outside
Frothy windows
They stare back
As i hum in my head
Strange tunes ..from a foreign land
Broken glass
Spread the skies as stars
Tide and time drift
Hand in hand
Veiw some droplets
Pither pather across
The solemn glass as
Theyhide in the shadows..
May holy moon
Half pitha better than no pitha
Soars into youthfull skies
Transcending layer by layer
Bliss of solitude
Time taps on to me
As i kiss my breath
And my faith she leaps
So now
Scribbling away
On a resolution
Giggles and smiles
Like old times
Muse awakened
A new meaning
A new dimension
To the bardly nib
Beheld thee ever the face of Death?
Felt thee the cold haunting breathe?
Hasth thee looked through the hollow eyes
And shivered Upon hearing the astral cries?
Take but a moment, just a moment
And close thy eyes and reflect.
The almighty by his hand spinned Earth
And therein obliviously placed Death.
Now, beheld thee ever the face of Death?
Felt thee the cold haunting breathe
When thee gape through the misty mirror
At thy skeleton's dramatic error?
Hasth thee watched the lips hitch
And heard the Medusan screech?
Hasth thee looked through the hollow eyes
And seen with fright thy dreadful face?
From trembling scorn stained lips,
ashen cheek tear-streaked from woe.
Jealousies' rancid inheritance,
mournful Banshees’ eternal concerto
Feigned compassion mists a dead smile,
Innuendos' bitterest honeyed embrace.
Breath tinged with your poisoned reprieve
Sirens symphony of shameful disgrace
Bronzed skin glistens tarnished,
Sun spun curls chlorine sheened.
Carnal fantasies careen off her flesh,
on Harpies' wings, your spirit eternally gleaned.
Bosom panting gently, nightmare in disguise,
Pestilence whispered sweetly, caution finally thrown.
Gazing into cyclone eyes you feel the sentiment grow,
Forever in her Medusan stare your soul now cast in stone.
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