Tuesday, November 16, 2004


Wishing it had a half-life
Instead of burning inside of me, a never-ending fire
Tearing me up with no outlet
Now unsure of myself; so out of control
Always on a knife's edge
Leaning against it to keep the pain fresh
Scarring will never form and never heal
Beautiful in the beginning
when sharing was a star forming from the heat
bursting, explosive and transforming
Worlds form so far from each other
Orbits that never touch from the uncertainty
And it's all so precious this tortuous solidification of the elements

Monday, November 15, 2004

Breathe You Pretty

Fell over my head and wouldn't come up
Pushed away and now feel the loss
Your silence deafens the darkest point of the night
I'd climb that mountain if you had not been the one to put it there
All because I left these words too long

Time felt early even though the sky looked late
Like a winter's day when twighlight comes so soon
I grieve the space between my feelings and what became reality
Standing, looking for the swirl of colors that floated before my eyes
Seeing shadows of the life rearranged and turned
Feeling it all over again would float me away, eagerly
It would not happen with you
Yet I still breathe you pretty

Saturday, November 13, 2004


If love is an energy, then where does it go when hope falls behind?
Can thoughts travel to the person who is the object of them?
Will good-will travel at the speed of light or that of sound?
When all communication stops what senses pick up the slack?

How come tears shed continuously form no puddle?
Can snow reflect the light lost by the clouds?
Where are all the dogwoods in the city I remember?
Is practicality all that important or do dreams become reality?

Friday, November 12, 2004


Every moment of being in this place infuses me with serenity
A place outside myself where enjoyment lives in continuity
With the landscape that sits before me

At the fog's tendrils touch the shore
Hugging it in one last embrace before the sun burns a little brighter
Forcing the morning lovers to part

At twilight, sounds move a little slower
Hearts take one beat at a time
Turning to face the oncoming night

Smelling the ocean from the boardwalk; Breathing a little deeper,
Feeling release from always active thoughts
Myself is not myself; myself is a part of here

The sounds, the smells, the motions
The continuousness and stillness intertwine
The motion creates the stillness; the stillness brings forth the motion

The smiles, the laughter, the voices, relax in their white sound
Come here with my paper and coffee, to breathe in the early morning
Soon the paper has been abandoned in favor of soaking in the world of here

This is not the only place
Other places have created the same belonging
That sense is displayed in the faces of the people who live there
The way people can see it in mine

I have heard Etta James from a boat's CD player on a Saturday morning
Like all noises here, it is not a distraction from the beauty
It enriches the landscape; adding and blending, setting the mood

Every motion is synchronous with every other
Given to relaxation to feel apart of this creation
Contributing and harmonizing with this place

Listen long enough and words of wisdom will answer every question, soothing doubt
If shattered, even the smallest bit, I find life here, soul here, peace here
I walk from here and am me, carrying the life of here with me