Monthly Archives: April 2015

Brothers Grimm

The road stands long before me. I strain to see through setting sun the length to which I must, the pain to where my memory runs.

Cold, the anger bites my heels, clings in dust that sparks with gold. Irons clamped around each step draw blood from ghosts my spirit holds.

I stood to give you vision. I spoke that you might see.
I braved the threat of repercussion which sacrificed your part of me.

The distance casts a silhouette, gaunt and black, sure suffered thin. It stands in crooked posture, paused, disposing hints of wicked grins.

Its tilted hat hides scars of lies spilt from pain set loose. Around its neck of sinew hangs a necktie stretched, a dead man’s noose.

I kept my word to wait for you, to wait to see you rise.
I held my silenced anguish close. I kept my hope behind these eyes.

The stench of flesh decayed and dried whispers through the breathless still, to silence hounds whose snapping teeth tear at my fading will.

Tis death and hell before me. Tis hell and death behind. Yet still I pray the truth may play the queen of hearts and trump death blind.

I cast a soulful hope for you. I prayed you’d find your truth.
I gave all freedom to the pain you pierced into my youth.

Weary coursers bend the sky in streams of black on ochre stains. No step, profound in trying, draws my hopes to free or find this pain.

The road stands long before me. I pray to feel the cool dusk drawn in lengthened shadows calming blush, with you at peace, me waiting dawn.


Filed under Dreams, Perspective, Poetry

April Dawn

Quietly, ‘neath this silenced dawn,
I pause near edge of grassy dell,
as mists arise from dewy sleep
in whispered dreams they dare not tell.

Gently, April’s morning brings
a rumor to the waxing sun,
storied rich in daffodils
gracing paths were spring fawns run.

Unobserved, I stretch to hear
the whispers light upon the air,
feel the stir of life anew
as first beams spark the dew drops there.

In humble bows the mist relents
to grant the dawn its honored throne,
led by low and bowing arcs
between the hills, across the stones
that raise their heads from lea and rill
in peaking, see what life may fill
the wooded court where men do pause
to draw their peace, repent their flaws
before the quickened rising gold…
now bathing warm, my face to hold.

So held in God’s sweet kindness,
so granted strength to see the day,
so blessed in sacred service set
between the pine and hopes I pray.

Sentinels stand around me,
robed in fir, wrapped in sun,
guarding forest’s darker moods
from spilling to this courtyard won.

First birds call in echo,
through the giant’s highest boughs,
“Amen!” they sing across the dell,
embracing hope within the vows
spoken in this April dawn.


Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul


The distance calls in reverie,
seducing dreams to future shores,
yet echoes tombs of loneliness
till death become its oars.

No passage can be seen,
no step is placed through surf and sand,
no payment pulled from empty pockets
will cast a rope beyond this land.

But aye! the dream continues.
Aye! the heart pulls hopes along.
Aye! the future’s glorious,
where soon I will belong.

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Filed under Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

All I Want

Steel my aching love of thee,
rent your fabric from my dreams,
quell the sudden upstarts’ shift
that pulls the threads from hidden seams.

Cast a cold and pallor stare
befitting of a graveside rain,
shred the memories of my soul
that I may come to love again.

Deny your silken beauty
to fabric of an eon’s dust,
count your blushing smile within
the dog eared pages histories trust.

Bathe my memory empty,
white washed before the bleaching sun,
that ere I come to see you
will fade before my heart can run.

Twist the ink by such a spell
to ne’er reflect the prose I’ve stayed,
dump the feathered drunkard well
till pools of black are left and played.

For thee I count among the dead,
tho’ ghostly still, by living haunt,
‘til in my fear, to see you,
is truly all I really want.

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Filed under Memory, Perspective, Poetry, True Love

Physics of Attraction

This arc, this life, in tempest,
calls to intersecting points of soul,
embracing love for focal point
yet claiming just one point to hold.
In glancing time and calculus
by gravity bound, inertia stays
to bend our lives through space and time,
to bend our love and minds in ways
that mathematics can’t resolve,
physics can’t portray, define.
Yet souls alive through living draw
the force of love in lines.


Filed under Perpective, Poetry, True Love