There are some things I own that I just can not throw away…no matter how tattered and torn. Memories and lives reside in the remnants, and to toss them away is akin to murder. If they are gone, then they are gone, and while my brain will eventually fade…the rough silken pieces can remain in my hands, recharging my memory with a single touch. I must keep them with me always.

My life is spent
above the air
the wind my only
whispered confidence
Angels my silent
cirrus companions.

Only I can see
the edges of the oceans
the alpha and omega
of the rivers
the boundaries of the
boiling deserts.

I can sit atop
the summits of
the highest mountains
if I wish
and I do.

For I am too high
for tree tops
too high
for the sticks and stones
of men
too high
to feel the storms
that plague them.

I only feel
the sun on my back
the cool in my feathers
and the favor of God
while I watch the world
because that
is what

Eagles

were made
to do.

Black Noise

Black noise
uses both hands
to grate my head
like a sharpened rake
on an icy block
digging deeper
with rotting fingers
scratching dark bloody trails
into my consciousness
and wickedly laughs
while it crushes
my brain
as I silently
scream
myself
to death.

With the flick of a tail
my muse is gone
swimming quickly away
into the blue
it leaves me no trail
it leaves me no trace
just leaves me to wonder
if bright shiny scales
were only a trick
an aquatic fool
of my dry
terrestrial eyes.

In the absence of light
with abundance of sound
and the wind in my hair
as the rain kisses ground
I can see without eyes
other senses abound
for my mind always knows
where to take me.

Lightning rods and weather vanes tell me all their secrets...and I listen.

Quiet stalks
on sticky pads
scaling walls and
defying gravity
waiting for darkness
and the reckless flurry
of dusty wings
that come
to the light.

A
quick
silver
thought
jumps across my brain
like a flash of sunlight
on the chrome trim of a
shiny
black
sports car

and when I blink I find
that just like the
speeding car
it is
gone

and I can not
hope
to catch it.

Captured

Its body flat
it skims along
the ocean floor
stopping
digs into the sand
eyes are all
that are exposed
and then it waits
watching
hoping
praying
that I pass it by
not seeing
that my fingers are
already
on the lever
as I slowly move
the shutter clicks
it is forever
captured.

Headache

I wake again
Get out of bed
Another storm
Within my head

I see another
Dreary day
And once again
Inside I’ll stay

The constant rain
On aging roof
It pains my mind
And gives me proof

I am connected
Must abide
With weather and
The world outside.

A single voice
Breaks the silence
Starting softly
Gently rising
When joined by another
Then another
And another
Playing perfectly together
Like the sweetest of siblings
Enjoying this moment
And loving each other
Running
Skipping
Laughing
Singing
Then tumbling down
While one starts to cry
Then another
And another
As they comfort each other
With sweet gentle kisses
Lovingly
Beautifully
Softly
Tenderly
One by one leaving
Until the last one remains
On the strings
Of my violin.

The Silent Sage

In ancient age
When forest trees
Were giants old
A withered sage
Walked through this wood
A wizened voice
Told wisdom true
But no one heard.

For evil spoke
From graying lips
The witch she knew
That blackened smoke
From her great fire
Would travel far
The sage would reach
And do its work.

Would silenced be
And could no more
Speak honored words
His shouted plea
Heard only by
The rushing wind
Which carried fast
Her vicious spell.

Now still he floats
And to this day
There’s never been
In withered throat
Another sound
A ghost he wanders
Through this wood
A silent sage
That speaks no truth.

Nightmare

Lightning crashing
Thunder rolling
Earth shattering
Mountains moving

Sands shifting
Rain pounding
Seas boiling
Skies exploding

Trees breaking
Wind screaming
Breath catching
Heart stopping
…
Clock calling
Life returning
Eyes opening
Nightmare ending

The Un-Silent Majority

The un-silent majority
Running through proverbial streets
With shouting, screaming, angry voices
Never questioning the validity of their cause.

Following their leader blindly
With arms raised and torches held high
Pitchforks and shovels poised
Going wherever the monsters are
Ready to kill, kill, kill.

Oblivious to all truth and consequence
Seeing only through their artificial rage
With eyes flashing and teeth gnashing
Believing whatever they were told
No matter who it was that told them.

The Artist

I am the artist

I paint with light
Use bold and bright
With canvas earth
And brushes wind

I paint with oil
Use sand and soil
With still of life
And moving hand

I paint with rain
Use love and pain
With colors blurred
And frenzied mind

I paint with coal
Use death and soul
With hammered fist
And withered land

I am the artist.

I write with strings
Use fall and spring
With pain and joy
And bursting heart

I write with brass
Use sun and grass
With marching feet
And voices loud

I write with wood
Use bad and good
With breathless light
And child’s laugh

I write with drums
Use shouts and hums
With strongest heart
And floating shroud

I am the artist.

My love it waits
With guarded gates
And open closed
My love it waits

My love it seeks
With stronger weak
And living dies
My love it seeks

My love it wants
With blue withdrawn
And magic view
My love it wants

My love it breathes
With salty sweet
And angel feel
My love it breathes

My love it cries
With tragic lives
And awesome pain
My love it cries

My love it stays
With wonder days
And sunny warm
My love it stays

My love it keeps
With ages weep
And secrets most
My love it keeps

My love it kills
With ever still
And fortress high
My love it kills

My love it is
With always has
And always been
My love it is

My love it takes
With it I stay
And too my life
My love it takes

Sparkle

Sparkle has its dangers. Just because what you see is exquisitely beautiful does not mean that if you move quickly it won’t get you. Many hidden fires lie under the lovely, diamond surface…and if you don’t step carefully…you might burn.

Object in Motion

Anger has no place in a mind troubled by righteous indifference. Focused on one failure of our collective humanity I can only wonder why I have been chosen to feel so strongly yet do so little for my cause. Can I blame my two halves for their opposite polarity combining to a neutral existence? Or do I accept the notion that my apathetic free will is the reason for my resistance to the First Law. Wondering how my path will change at each junction I realize that stupid is as stupid does…and therein lies my answer.

Adv/Adj

Categorically different
Independently wise
Artificially cognizant
Sympathetically prized
Exponentially beautiful
Surreptitiously slight
Consequentially powerful
Justifiably bright

Staring with
Unblinking eyes
Colors beckon
Please come closer

Reaching out
I realize
That death as beauty
Lingers here

Into Blue

Into blue
I submerge myself
willingly away
from red and yellow

Into blue
Where God still paints
with artistic passion
hearing only sound