Monthly Archives: August 2014

The Stranger


The stranger slowly approaches.

Shadowy figure, he.

Weapon at the ready by his side.

His imminent threat arouses me.


Suddenly, he lunges at me,

Weapon drawn, held high in the air.

His intention is my ultimate demise,

To thrust the dagger into my flesh.


Do I remain steady and firm,

To fight against his approach?

Or shall I attempt to evade him,

Perhaps even run, preserving self?


My steps are quick and certain,

I have moved from his path,

Causing him to pass by me,

His balance lost, crashing down.


If I remain to fight my assailant,

I must also identify him.

For who would mean me harm,

Who would have the motive?


I brace as he rises to meet me,

He is coming into focus,

It is my first glimpse that reveals,

That my enemy is me.

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An Outing


It was humid – August –

they were preparing their boats for excursion,

the pickup trucks scurried about the highways,

they were gathering up food and drink

placing them carefully in store.


It was blinding – sunny –

they reached for sunglasses due to the reflecting sunlight,

their boats skimming the lake,

the water stood calm, cold and inviting,

this, their summer wonderland.


But what of these things? What will remain –

smoked cigarettes, drank sodas,

beer, fuel consumed,

the wet bathing suit left to dry over the side of the tub?


What of this is gain –

a sunburn, sun screen washed away,

food, garbage created,

the bruise earned when falling from the skis.


What more of these things? Of what purpose –

the laughter, the joy,

a day together, bonding,

the snapshots of faces frozen in happy pursuits.


Of this all, it is to be human.

Perhaps in consumption or folly

do we often exist or entertain.

Yet the means lead to an end of shared memories.

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Buried in me, a well springs up,

Giving life to fresh ideas,

New perspectives are gleaned.


Here lies that well within,

Cold, biting, unrelenting,

Injecting life into words.


It is here in this place,

Where I store my inspiration,

The muse’s hiding place.


Transforming into an abyss,

Tightly sealed, difficult to access,

Closing itself off to me


Attempts to break into the crypt,

Laughable and fruitless,

A fool’s errand.


Though it lives within me,

I have lost access,

Now an interloper in my own mind.


To gain entry perhaps the step,

First to escape myself,

And the bonds of my limited consciousness.


Stepping outside myself,

No longer constrained,

By my own oppressive shackles.


Out of body,

Out of mind,

Free from all constraints.


For I have determined that,

The only way to get in,

Is that I must first get out.

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Your face, so angular and lovely,

With its prominent cheeks.

I am drawn in by its beauty,

And its glowing radiance.


Eyes made from steely blue.

Enhanced only by the gray,

Floating flakes within,

This all sparkling together.


Your hair long and flowing,

Reflects the sunlight,

Its lovely sable color,

Strewn across your shoulders.


The lines of your body,

So lean and lovely.

Create a silhouette,

Which steals my breath.


How I long for our bodies,

To lie intertwined,

Locked conjointly,

In a dance of love.


Our eyes met in a trance,

Expressing a lust and,

A deep starving need,

For a carnal release.


My hands grope to trace,

The curvature of your body.

Your skin’s milky color,

Its silky smooth texture.


Burning desire brings,

A need to be lost within,

Consumed by you,

Our bodies linked tightly.


Though born separate,

And living till now apart.

We have come together,

To become one flesh.

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Floating freely in space,

Arms tired and weary.

Mind a blur,

Spinning and dizzy.


Eyes unfocused.

Hearing impaired.

Mouth mute.

Nerves tingling.


Body is heavy,

Yet being lifted,

Up to a place,

I’ve never seen.


My substance changing,

Dense and compact.

As if only half remains,

But twice as heavy.


A pungent smell,

Fills my nostrils.

My senses alive,

Yet I feel dying.


I perish in pieces,

Though life fills me.

I feel the cold of death,

And the warmth of life.


A hand reaches,

It summons me.

As if to say,

Come unto me.


I resist its call.

For if I go there,

Will that end I fear,

Follow my arrival?


There is silence,

Only a lilting breeze,

As I gently travel,

Through the air.


What is this place,

That I’m headed for?

Is this a beginning,

Or is this the end?


A light sharply pierces,

This dark void I’m in.

Setting me ablaze,

With thoughts of eternity.


Shall I look away,

From this stabbing vision?

Is my will able,

To refuse its pull?


Ever deeper and more lost,

No substance found,

No life. No death.

No peace. No turmoil.


Seeking in vain,

Yet nothing is found,

Nor a soul in sight,

But I’m not alone.


The hand motions closer,

My heavy arm reaches,

Very nearly to touch it,

And then suddenly I awake!

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Around the Block


Have you been around the block,

Just to see what might be there?

To know what is possible,

Or what you’re able to bear?


Why’s going around the block,

Carry negative meaning?

Is adding to your knowledge,

Somehow, some way demeaning?


Have I been around the block,

You may query me to know.

I have now lived long enough,

To complete the trip long ago.


How many times around the block,

Have I dared venture to foray?

It was long ago I lost count,

Therefore, I’m unable to say.


What did I learn around the block?

I learned my weakness and my strength.

I saw things I’d never have seen,

All because I went to that length.


Should others trek around the block?

Only if it’s knowledge they seek.

But prepare for the scars it leaves,

It’s not a trip meant for the weak.

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I am but a vessel of truth.

It is all that I am and all that I know.

My truth may diverge from others,

Yet it is mine and lives within me.


I am but a vessel of hatred.

Dwelling within that basest part of me.

Surreptitiously it hides beneath the surface,

It is denied the right to control me.


I am but a vessel of love.

That better part of who I am.

Shared with those held dear,

But too often displayed sparingly.


I am but a vessel of hope.

Those better things and better days.

These are dreams unfulfilled,

Though desired in the promise of tomorrow.


I am but a vessel of memories.

Cherished days and episodes.

Stored away within my heart,

Recalled with longing and fondness.


A day is destined to arrive,

And it may not be that far away,

When I escape the bonds of life,

To dwell here no longer.


Yet all that is within me remains,

All that makes me who I am,

Will continue to endure,

For all that will be gone is the vessel.

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Half Full/Empty


I’m that glass argued about,

And what’s within or without.

My contents seem to cause a stir,

With every single him and her.


Do I appear as half empty,

Only half my contents you see?

Or am I half full of contents,

Only half of it has been spent?


If it’s empty that you witness,

Then pessimism you possess.

Through a dark prism do you see,

And you lack positivity.


But if half full you ascertain,

Then optimism you’ve obtained.

You must live with a constant smile,

Living and laughing all the while.


Yet I say that neither is true,

And that nothing is at issue.

No view of the contents I had,

Prove neither thoughts of good nor bad.


Instead if fullness you don’t see,

Why not take the time to fill me?

Half full or empty – neither is worse,

Just drink enough to fill your thirst.

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Shake the Foundations


Shake the foundations of who you have become.

Was it all a matter of your choosing?

Is all that makes up who you are truly you?

Maybe another is inside you trying to escape.


Are you this person because you were programmed?

Can what you see within yourself rise to new heights?

Do you allow yourself room to meliorate?

You will never know until you shake the foundations.


Shake the foundations of those in power.

How did they achieve such a lofty stature?

Are they a malefactor of their position?

Perhaps they deceive through a false facade.


Should such potency be snatched away?

Could the time have come to topple their reign?

Have you made yourself aware of their character?

You will never know until you shake the foundations.


Shake the foundations of all that you see.

Do you see reality or find yourself deluded?

Is scene after scene an enormous ruse?

Perchance the ruse succeeds due to lack of knowledge.


You may only bring reality to light through discovery.

Question all within your sight through eyes of skepticism.

Instruct yourself in all things as you seek truth.

You will never know until you shake the foundations.

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Cleanse Me


The living of this existence, its fight, its struggle,

Has left me dirty and covered with the filth of the world.

No water, no lather can remove the grime.

It is all far beneath my skin to my core, my soul.


To rid myself of these foul stains that mark me,

I must defer to those purest, nourishing of things.

Replace stains with beauty, the muck with resplendence.

Supplant the filth with artistic, natural and ethereal pabulum.


For my eyes, provide the sunrise and sunset,

The hues of which mix rich tones of gold and blue,

A million shades chime in to inspire the mind,

To the point that the sunset may be felt and heard.


Viewing the day at its lovely, pristine beginning,

Light at first peering and teasing over the horizon.

A symphony of color orchestrated masterfully,

Until the bright, white light of day shines over all.


The occasion to view the lying down of the sun,

A dance of color just before that somberness of night.

Those final rays of light stabbing across the sky,

Until that concluding glow that comes just before dark.


The pain and the daily struggles require the breeze,

Its kissing of my skin, its gentle and loving caress.

All about me it pirouettes, surrounding me,

Exciting the nerves of my skin eradicating the pain.


For just a moment, the wind whisks around me,

Titillating as it visits with me so briefly.

Whispering to me as if I hear it say “come away,”

Let me take you up and off this earthly rock.


Only for a moment, does this dance occur,

Visiting only for a passing glance upon me.

Its soft touch arrives and goes just as quickly,

Its origins and its destination a mystery unto me.


Remedy my soul with the confection of melody,

For it is with song that my spirit unites.

A note, a chord, a chorus, a harmony,

This is required to reach the deepest part of me.


Soaring voices, rising into the unknown,

Lilting a refrain new and so wonderful.

Purity that can sublimate the inner man,

Can be found when the voice hits the mark.


Music can find its place deep within my being,

Rhythms ignite a fire, as ballads quench the thirst.

It is within the labyrinth of music I find myself,

And the means with which to lift and cure my soul.


Scars which life has left behind may remain,

As I am a work in progress and must display them.

They speak of where I’ve been, what I’ve done,

And are now simply a part of who I am.


But allow me my time to bathe, to scrub away,

The stains that appear each day in this life.

Allow me to regenerate and to renew,

As I cleanse in all the beauty surrounding me.

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