it is that season (again)

a photograph, a captured soul

infused emotion cascating on the print

reflecting hurt because change has taken hold

of a shared hivemind,

of what, if, but we 'should have known'

and we are better now, no?

 

starving for the input to placate the tidal wave

the expectation titan and on the verge of fucking it up.

pride ties close the poison lace

shatter the codename for both our sakes...

 

is a fool a fool irregardless if eyes prey witness to the state

at which one finds himself out of sorts? 

does laughter become the conduit

do those in the know  serve as beacon

a safer port, a lighthouse and so much more.

__________________________________________________________________________

 Winters was a dame of clamor fate

sober stood her in the extinction of spaces

cracks those lost go to be driven

around in merry, in a magnificent ocean of crystal clarity

I felt like an adult once I understood the choice communion relayed

by the lack of timing in words spoken freely, with a pause, that childhood does not permit

marked by the remark that suffering is indeed optional

balanced in the scale of pizza for breakfast and cake for dinner

the sky awash with grey, a pale dirty yellow full moon discreetly illuminates a rare cloud

disguising the fact I am quite frankly at odds with what to write, what to say

so in silence we confide to the page and whenever requested words

we exagerate and blur out avalance for if I am to be swallowed so shall you.

in oblivion we fall apart, out of turn

the blood drumming my temper is out of sync with my pulse

I am out of touch with my own rhythm

my future has spoken and has me by the neck.

________________________________________________________________________________

Fall is a lover of fair game

notes the exchange of hands, held together

in frail first love,

it is the hand that reaches out,

for the fallen leaves,

in doubtful unequal prayer,

for those who have gone (ahead):

in furtive capture of necessity,

for want of the same fallen in hard times, harven steel tribulation can only separate 

turn the beast inside out: humanity concedes frontier, the cycle breached

sparse light in the divide

how can the tree survive disposed of branches?

how could prey and predator merge in a sickning union of outer madness, coincidence

a dance atop a broken shell, underneath a mountain broken apart just the same

a tale not familiar nor with want of belonging, 

a slip of tongue as the weary walker grows faint.

____________________________________________________________________________

Maggy

We met twice proper

We were young then

foolish and fleeting love That

naive I accepted guilt but fleeting was a lightness that stung the weight I was to carry

as I lost heart, for I bled and retold the story from the moment I heard your voice

and i understood at once an ocean of familiar homely skinship that i knew was too come

and occur it did as if i had willed it into existance however years ahead, however short and sweet

the third encounter was the change of season, the resolution that snow both softens the margins and conserves what is precious within. expanse and expand, space enough I suppose to grow.

the fourth i denied You for it stunk of Home. it was dole advise and proper at that

from The stories i pass along, the books i circulate amongst acquaintances and friendly strangers

you are still my favorite one, however bittersweet

i shall pay it forward with a gloomy grin

in the venture of another realm of fresh possibilities

universes where I am a stronger lover, a present brother

a better son.