Archive for the ‘Passion’ Category

Here

what is it my love,
this angel comes when the moon does not look
by stealth in the wee hours amidst the blackness,
finds my cheek and there her lips imprinted
for me to find at morn’s first light,
left to reassure,
to tell uncertainty will never overcome Me?
~ ~ ~

Moments

I grab them, trap them before they flee,
put them in my pen to recount them ‘ere I sleep,
moments of the day when hearts be one,
moments . . .
like treasure lost an eon,
re-discovered relics gold,
minted o’er Again
~ ~ ~

Strumming

syncopated fingers take their
ceaseless wanderings drunk of
bottled bubbles and
breathless whispers as
nocturnal rhythms
play Us
~ ~ ~

Daze

arisen,
countenance glazed, unshaven
amidst embers and wine,
butts and corks askew
in the tunnel dry of light,
shiny rails pillow for his head
he lay waiting for the Train.

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I THINK THESE THINGS

at the core, the common characteristic among us of such disparate views, diverse cultures, and multitude of experiences, is our genius and the universal uniqueness of it.

bare a boy
I ran out of youth
yea, it was then
the running Began

Tis the pen kept handy best expresses.

I am bound to eternal restlessness,
Born to shiver in the warmth,
To perspire in the chill.

I stay a child of Saturday for having no more ambition than that.

I wander down roads less traveled for the mysteries are greater there.

'Tis guitar takes favor, her melodies clothe lyrics lack luster whilst poet sings naked his sweet rhapsodies.

Struggling to know one thought never spoken.

Should I encounter thee, I offer my hand, my smile; lest I remain a stranger forever wonder what passion lies unearthed in thy soul.

I have come from where there are few neighbors to where they are aplenty and I yearn return to where I was before I got back here.

Each one with whom you travel owns a microcosm of your life and though she goes her separate way, your story's there within her.