choices

what do i do
with all these thoughts of you,
trapped in my head –
like a fly in the spider’s web…
 
like the moth drawn to the flame,
i push against the pull –
but the effort –
all in vain…
 
submersed in thoughts of you,
i waste away –
no struggle against the drowning –
will,
washed away.
 
no need to throw a rope of hope –
i chose to lose my way…

in my defense

beneath it all –
even below the ever growing pile of discontent…
 
layered,
ever so patiently –
my – defense –
(scar-tissue effect).
 
time passes;
and just as quickly as a borrowed breath – returned,
this now,
becomes our was…
 
what of it,
then?
false hope clinging in vain to should?
 
if we are less than everything allowed,
why – be – at all?
oh! i suppose there could be desire to rise above,
even birds with broken wings
never forget how it feels to fly…

trust

safe –
you think –
behind your wall of – why,
hiding from no one –
but – yourself…
 
is it the light you flee?
afraid to – see?
or rather,
to be seen?
 
so easily you cling to presume,
as if it were your shield,
completely – unaware –
the truth you fear
merely shackles you with regret –
blinds you from seeing,
 
it is that which ultimately,
sets you free.

broken still

i hear your sadness
screaming through the silence…
 
big sky –
little moon –
somewhere on the other side of my world,
you –
behind the clouds…
 
what absence do you run from –
what darkness terror
keeps you locked away?
 
safe inside your guarded walls
i cannot reach you…
 
what feeling worse than lonely –
what pain more real than
breaking heart,
outstretched hand – empty –
unanswered prayer…
 
broken still –
emotion spilled into a void –
longing cuts like shards of glass –
the soul…
 
you are my pain,
and passion,
self-contained!

unbecoming

wanting more than less –
needing more than have –
i find my life in shadow,
standing still…
 
consumed by doubt –
entombed within the walls of disbelief –
i feel the madness creep
into my living,
forcing me to contemplate my fate.
 
do i seek refuge here
in dyeing’s harbor?
commit to nothing –
become UN-done?
 
how simple then,
the letting go –
no need –
for need,
no longing –
to belong…
 
so sweet the peace that
must come with the passing.
 
so great the un-weight,
un-encumbered –
un-entwined –
the soul,
aged captive –
finally free…

obligations of grey.

preoccupied.
unavailable.
agenda –
over-full…
 
it seems we simply exist –
to exist.
black and white priorities muted to obligations of grey.
we enter auditoriums of suppose,
yet exit before encores of know.
ignorant to ownership of capability –
obtusely self-absorbed!
 
with characters flawed from addictions to same,
we fall in line –
paupers by convenience –
reciting litany’s to camouflage our disdain.
and yet,
when offered avenues of alteration,
deny with apoplectic revulsion accommodation to insinuation of refrain.
 
obedient,
we have become,
to complacency.
prisoners to indifference –
 
unaware we hold keys to the locks of our self-imposed commonality…

of Christians – indisposed.

we are not sent into the darkness.
there is no crime committed from platform of unforgiven.
no matter how far we stray from a destination of good,
we are never truly lost.
 
regardless our acts of careless abandon.
in spite of our behavior –
reckless indiscretion –
we hold within the fabric of our being,
guarantee of freedom –
pardon for sins we’ve yet to commit.
 
callous –
with less than intentional conviction –
fabricated semblance of faith –
we stand defiant in the face of chaos we most surely designed,
yet refuse to kneel on alters we demand.
 
foolishly indignant –
testify in courts of contradiction –
oblivious to our flagrant acts of treason –
forged certificates of Christianity in one hand –
while the other holds a hammer and three nails..

stories that begin with us

and there –
written hastily on flashcards of presume –
our good intentions.
 
so eager to share,
we flash them without hesitation.
regardless the level of acceptance,
we feel redeemed –
vindicated.
 
how can it be –
we ask –
reception of indifference?
was it less than the necessary more?
edges too exposed?
what purpose –
pursuit of accommodation –
when left standing just outside the door of acceptance?
 
surely there is nothing more sad than stories that begin with us,
yet end with –
me…

to nothing…

to make it stop.
the endless sound of waves upon the shore.
the hissing of the setting sun – sliding without reluctance into the sea.
the wailing of the dying – day –
sad victim to the night.
to simply make it –
stop.
 
in the sweet escape of that moment –
removed from the evidence of sound –
no contemplation of why,
or what,
or even reference to suppose.
 
in that sacred situation of nothing –
to merely – be.
 
how seductive – thoughts of unbecoming.
to exit – quiet – from the courtroom of disallowed.
free at last from chains of should.
unbound – no longer – by petitions of presume.
pardoned from occurrence of something –
unobliged –
obligated to –
nothing…