Yesterday visits me in wordless congeniality

We sit and say so much yet so little

She arrives on her terms,

Her iron will does not yield when it’s farewell

I reach out my hand to say but a word,

I blink to collect those entangled thoughts

Proud of my lament, now set in words,

I open my eyes to harangue her,

Oh to chide her, to berate her cruelty

Only to see

She left without a word again

It was but another imagined conversation


The dreamer

I sit in this dark forest

Tall, imposing trees staring down at me

Still and composed

I enjoy my dark solitude

Everything here is mine

All I wish is my reality

In the green stillness and warmth

Perhaps unknowingly, I savor

My perfect control, my concealed liberation

Thus I get reminded again

Of the Heavens, why I am here

And where I must go

I float in the calm water

My boat a handful of dreams

This echoing silence I despise

Or do I love every moment of it

The intriguing emotional conflict

Makes the frail walls concrete

And every now and then reality comes along

To shake me from my daylight slumber

This transition from my reality to chaos

I loath, hate and despise!

Hand in rain 

Take my hand and walk

Let the deluge wash away my chaos

Let it accentuate your calm

Dark clouds threaten a long storm

So many have I lived through

The edge is slippery in inclement weather

Relentless rain polishes the rock to perilous perfection

I have polished my own edges

This is but another day in real life

My soul has seen no sun

The rain is my lifelong dwelling,

The clouds my scornful friends

Traditionally asleep

We create tradition and nurse it gently

Today it is mature and the roles reversed

We are the children, cradled tenderly

In the arms of custom we lie

Wrapped in the blanket of ennui

Our slumber is the damnation of sense

So chronic is this infantilism

That we are loath to be awakened

The clamour of a tempest rattles our sleep

Eyes move to express muffled empathy

Only to close again


Pursuing the elusive shadow

I hover in mere hopelessness

This absurd and vain struggle

Tiring me, leading nowhere

I keep running though

A murky creation of my brain

Impeding my vain struggle

And thus I wonder

I get tossed into a mental tussle

But life goes on and on

This futile quest shan’t cease

Ere I die and fade out

And thus another vain quest is born…

Bright noise

My thoughts drop like hail,

But they dance like dust

I am the hesitant ray that peeks

My thoughts the dust that spins within

Oh but the despair can be prodigious

It drives me to absurd reflection

And I become the ray

That meets the floor silently

Only to pen this noise


Misplaced fear has maligned all wisdom

This throng fears its own creation

One light is extinguished

Another torch quickens in ebony flame

The morals made inviolable

They are traitors to compassion

The crowd beholds itself in saintly light

Inherited superiority, a child of their faction

Each group panders its supremacy

Morality cowers with fear in a dark corner

Her fellow prisoners embrace her,

While apathy keeps a stringent watch

Congeniality in dusk

I shall give without question

Should you reach out in despair

A small light for the stubborn night

Hold my hand and walk

The orb will last but a day

Place your hand there to garner strength

Let the journey last a mile or two

My succor is not my inner light

But my woes that I did repair

To lend some of my darkness to yours


Ignorance unites them in fiery rage

Their leader is the marionette on the stage

The will of inheritance they fulfill

Harmony is pushed away by a callous chill

In the eyes of imagined gods

Armed with hatred they take to the roads

Their actions are to them an ethical calling

Listless, they find sanctuary in carnage and mauling

They heed the legacy of faithless faith

Guided again by their brutal wraith

Momentary passion clouding sense

The poor victim deprived of all defense

Don’t be silent but shout from the roof

Please don’t ask for reason or proof

They may have picked up rock and lance

Pray, don’t aid them with apathy and chance

Cuts in time

These ruins are almost pallid

Their only hue the rust of time

I travel to the distant past while walking

Body and brain divided in time

Suddenly I come crashing down

For I see a spectacle of glorious splendor

On a leaf the size of my hand,

Rests a dew drop too large to rest

Every few moments it slides

Seeking an escape from its green home

It too feels like a misplaced relic

The leaf a dream from the past

The ground a torrid reminder of the present