You

I never thought I'd matter
To anyone

Until you
Came along

And changed my perspective
Of the universe

You made me feel
Like I matter

And I'm grateful
For you.

the sighing of the wind

the sighing of the wind,
touching my heart tenderly

the smoothness of the waves
making my soul quiet

as I quietly sense
the beauty of silence

crushing my loneliness
freeing my thoughts
from its captivity

how much I long
to remain here
and listen to

the sighing of the wind

Non existence

this waiting moments have been
since time began
unnoticed enveloped in solitude
perseverance solidify the
Illegitimacy of this non existence

Write your poetry. ..

Write your poetry
on my soul
with the ink
of your touch
tell me with a kiss
the words
you dare not speak
show me with your flesh
how much.

hidden truth

Buried within this soul's depths
Lies treasure's vision deep
amidst bereavement's void

The imagery etched on this creative mind
vivid scenes depicting reality's contradiction
A relentless pursuit of this imagination's conquest

As perceived victory expose its sinister plot
reality's blossom regress to wilted neglect
And the triumph of circumstance reveals its menacing agenda

As Opposer's desire unfold contending peaceful perfection
And the victim willingly succumb an eager hostage to future's ruin
Evil languish in deprivation's wake.

Priceless treasure held captive
As dream's dispossession is shattered
And exposed isolation reveals the hidden truth

Fallen ...

Send away for a priceless gift

One not subtle, one not on the list

Send away for a perfect world

One not simply, so absurd

In these times of trying in vain

Keep these feelings, no one knows

What ever happened to this man's heart

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly falls apart

And I'm staring down at this uncertainty,

I'm swimming through the ashes of another life

There's no real reason to accept the way things have changed

Staring down at this uncertainty

Send a message to the newborn child

Keep your eyes open for a while

In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else

There's a piece of a puzzle known as life

Wrapped in guilt, sealed up tight

What ever happened to this man's heart

Swallowed by pain, as he slowly falls apart

Continue to point your finger
Whisper your deception ever so softly

Never fail to condemn me

As you may never know what I believe

And as the tears fall

I continue to believe ...

Sad ...

I awake each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounds and as impossible as it actually is, happy. And during the course of each day my heart descends from my chest into my stomach. By early afternoon I am overcome by the feeling that nothing is right, or nothing is right for me, and by the desire to be alone. By evening I am fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of my grief, alone in my aimless guilt, alone even in my loneliness. I am not sad, I repeat to myself over and over, I am not sad. As if I may one day convince myself. Or fool myself. Or convince others -- the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because my life has unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it has become an empty white room. I will fall asleep with my heart at the foot of my bed, like some domesticated animal that is no part of myself at all. And each morning I will wake with it again in the cupboard of my rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by the midafternoon I am again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, ... someone else ... somewhere else. I am not sad.