Bittersweet Symphony

Half dark delusion
Half still sane
Mostly an illusion
Reality of pain

Sun to dusk to dark
Watch light fade away
Peel at the paper ark
Too easily swayed
Inevitably succumb
The bitter price we pay
To stay sweetly numb.

Bittersweet symphony
Of tears and zealotry
Melancholy soliloquy
Beat down by bigotry

Chipped edge of steel
Man’s true best friend
Little else it feels
Than the flesh it rends

Content to suffer such fate
Diamond in the rough
Borne of pressure and hate
Crystal clear and tough
Glittering with heartache
More than enough
For most men to break.

Bittersweet symphony
Of tears and zealotry
Melancholy soliloquy
Beat down by bigotry


Sunny soliloquy
For gray days and ashen skies
Meteoric masterpiece
The orange of a fireswept sunset
Water-clad and melting fast
The flakes of an early first-snow
Warm and fragrant
The earth upon a midsummer’s eve
While gazing at clouds
Lumbering in restful reverie
Inviting the weary
To join their slumbering parade.
Let eyes half-close
Listen for the enticing notes
Of a melody far-away
From the shores of a golden bay
A paltry fee for entry:
All the imagery of every dream
Every life ever lived
And all the love there is to give.

From Afar

He gazes out from afar
From a cliff towards shore —
Weary, tired, and alone —
His outstretched hand:
Callouses, sinew, and bone.
He points where sea kisses land:
There walked a figure so fine —
Her slender footprints still in the sand —
At that sensual twilit time
That at last succumbs the light
To the inviting poetry of night.
A warm breeze whispers dreams
While gentle tides rise and sigh,
Inaudible above it all
The melancholy lullaby
Of a moon to its mistress, the sea
“Mi amour, vivo solamente para ti”
“My love, I live solely for thee.”

Love Lost

The empty chair across the hall
By the window: the rhododendron petals gone.
Nails bare upon the wall
Pristine drywall where frames belong.
Leaves mourn in the scent of fall
Every day to droop away
Melt back into the ground
To remind us… none are here to stay.

Darkness Garden

A myriad of romantic sighs
All die
Quiet and unheard
In dark rooms where the light seldom shines
There the quiet gardeners keep
Flowers that bloom drinking moonbeams
The fruit of fragile dreams.
The gentle night air stirs
Their fragrant petals and scent
In the distance the sound of life
Feasts regaling in the breaking of taboos
And the melding of flesh
Still the constant gardeners do keep
To art, pausing only to water plants
With the tears they weep.

Your Words

Your words are like the sound of leaves in the autumn breeze as they touch down upon the ground in the silence of twilight, in the outdoors out among the sycamores. Your silence is like the tinkling of water beneath ice sheets in a frozen winter retreat, cracking open my consciousness and freezing  my breathing, leaving me screaming in a winter wonderland.

Ice Maiden

Her cold ice-lips beckon
No escape for souls so stricken
By diseased self-reflection:
Contemplative imprisonment
Heightened disillusionment
Her breath vapourizes upon my eyes
A fog so blinding all I see is my demise
In her pale-blue lips and crystal skin
That alluring silence is surely
Heaven’s requiem

Stars Beneath the Sun

All the good men lie
‘twixt fragments of shells 
and muddy clay
in trenches of red
where vultures do play;
their blood runs deep
through city sewers,
over paved roads ,
across mountaintops —
where the sun smiles bright.
As its warmth retreats to night,
the receding evening light
and hanging vapours of dusk
mark the forever dying breaths
of the stars beneath the sun.

no requiem for quiet dreams

sitting, sulking
subconsciously slithering
teeming masses of hatred piling;
no requiem for quiet dreams

worlds destroyed
scattered ashes flying
collapsed buildings smattering
scorched earth
no grass
no trees
no requiem for quiet dreams

psalms sung for fallen gods
praises rung for people gone
masses held in quiet reflection
no burial for the forgotten few
no words for the lonely lot
left to rot in shallow graves
no requiem for quiet dreams

blood pulsing
societies crying
strings vibrating
all singing
noiseless anthems for the living
in loud contemplation
of momentary surviving:
no requiem for quiet dreams
no psalms to calm the weeping
no hymns to break the tide
no words to stop the flow
nothing to ever know

Silver Silhouettes

Silver silhouettes surround me
Empty hearts so barren uncaring
All I need is to just keep moving
All I want is to just keep believing
No more wishing for childish dreams
No more waiting for people to see

Vases full of stagnant waters
Dessicated roses sighing
Petals scattered upon the floor
Have no meaning anymore