Sunday, April 27, 2008


You keep what you think is your right-
The bull whip for which you can crease my soul-
and i tell you, that you are doomed to fail,
for divided though i may be, i have never been broken.

You may taunt me with your idiocy,
Spurn me with my own desire, haunt me with my own past,
and i tell you that you have no strength over me
for that which you try to beat me with has lost it's sting.

It has lost it's sting, it has lost it's power,
it no longer casts a shadow over me, it no longer chills me to the bone,
for i have the past scars from those who have tried - and failed,
and you offer nothing that i do not give you as weaponry i have not seen before.

Take heart, i am here of choice, not of necessity,
i do not wish to part, although i do strongly wish to live,
i do strongly wish to see the morrow, to feel it touch me on the brow,
but i do not wish to be a slave to the torment in which you try to imprison me.

So take it, or leave it, but do so all the same,
for time is too fleeting to waste it on nothingness.
Either crush the moment with sureness, or crush it with insecurity,
but crush it all the same, as this moment is all we will ever be sure to have.

Take this hand, take it forever, or take it not,
and take it not forever, but do so all the same,
for the hesitation is prison unto itself, an unnecessary waste of this moment,
A waste that can never be refunded, or returned.

Monday, April 7, 2008

How Do I Separate Me from Myself?

If you are quiet, you can hear,
Astounding things in the empty meadow.
From ancient sounds and lullabies to distant
screams from anguished past,
The question still remains, How do I separate me from myself?

From out those innards of everyone
Come past thoughts that key ego's destiny
That image of myself, that longing for more, that
Timely instance of agony
Begs to question, How do I separate me from myself?

That extended hand is not mine, but that which extends it is;
those fingers are not mine, but that which holds yours in them is.
And alas I stand but all alone, and ask my Lord a simple theme,
"Dear God within me guide this thing,
And tell, please tell, How do I separate me from myself?"

Friday, April 4, 2008

This One Moment in Time

Please, my dear, take this one moment in time,
to see inside my heart, for the unending love that courses through my soul,
in that you will see the light of this world,
the light of love, the light of truth, and the light of all that can be.

Forgo the darkness of what was, and bask in the light of what is
this one moment of time
Seek what is you wish to find, hold on to the vine that will support you for eternity,
The vine that does not entangle your heart, but embraces it as sun embraces the earth.

Take in this one moment of time
This hand of mine outstretched not in hasty offering of thought
But rather as a grasp of the glory that this one moment allows,
The glory of love, the glory of eternity, the glory of promise our two souls provide.

For, in this one moment of time,
We can enjoy eternity.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Since We Grew Apart (work in progress)

The wind has not been colder since we grew apart,
The avid clangs of memories do
spawn timeless shapes of what could be,
yet keep us from all that is beyond what we hold in our empty hands.

We walk in a mud shaped avalanche of all that we expect,
We stand inside that happenstance,
Too afraid to move, too afraid to let go!
...that sorry weakened vine that serves to tie us to such memory.

That empty hand did hold that weakened vine;
Did hold that span of distant crime,
I long to see it go, see it fade into timeless nothingness,
But what, as I stare at empty hands, doth keep me to this vine?
It is not my grip, it is not my strength, this vine is wrapped around my heart.

It has been an eternity since we grew apart,
A not forgotten distant stare, memories singed into empty air,
We tug, we push, we pull again, cyclic anger without an end,
Someday perhaps we'll pull anew, pull together as lovers do
Perhaps, perhaps...the sun set down-another day gone through.

The wind that howls each passing day,
the wind that drives each a different way,
This thickened rope hath intertwined,
This vine, this vine, chocked forever out of lovingness
Since we grew apart.