A work in progress

Why do I sit idle,

Observing destruction 

With keen eyes,

And let life slip by?

Water, it slips through

Fingers like Her. 

Thirst is never quenched,

Just satiated for moments.

Dehydrated, mad with lust.

It is a sickness!

You can't posses 

The clouds, nor the sea.

We sit amongst the people

Who lament in rage,

"How can we be free

When we are slaves?"

It hasn't rain in months,

Just teased by drizzle

Here and there,

Leaving our lips parched.

---

Heart burns from red hair flame

Beacon of light that guides

On overcast days. Raging,

Growing, spreading - she

Consumes souls. Heart burn

On a cold foggy day,

Red hair flame guides 

The way.  Heaven, or hell,

Just get out of the way -

Like a moth, I leap in faith

To posses, the red hair flame.

 

The Hermit's Journal - Entry #10

"Love conquers all!

Besides unrequited love.

How can any one love another

So passionately, with so much

Feeling and emotion,

And it not be returned?"

We are masochists,

Loving those who 

Are incapable of loving 

Us back.

"But why? Why do they not love..."

Because they don't.  It is better to remove yourself and avoid the torture of unrequited love.  Loneliness is manageable, whereas perpetual heart ache is Hell!

"I'll take the Hell, just so I can say I have loved, to feel it, to be alive!"

I'll take the reclusion... I've experienced enough of Hell, and it has left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Speak

What can I really say?

Silence triumphs 

Rhythm fades

What can I say?

Brown eyes stare,

Desperate for words,

Explanations, reasons

None arrive

Just more solitude

Confinement next

To Love, beauty -

Music is over

Your heart fades

Into oblivion,

Your voice falls

Upon deafness.

What can I say?

I stood like a rock,

Solid for you to hold

Silent in my strength

You never heard words

Just comfort in arms, 

And your own voice soothing

I stood still - motionless

What can you expect 

Thirty years later,

Evolution brings growth

But silence remains.

Frost Bitten

Sometime's my fortitude

Weakens, and I falter, falling

Like bricks to the ground.

What is this lack?

A disability?  Something

Prevents the true self

From blooming.

I follow the warmth

The sun casts down

During the day,

And close my door 

To the cold night.

Routine is boring,

Though I grasp on

To it, as if life depends

Upon it.

I stood firm, strength

Emanated from my eyes.

A small pin prick in

The heart, and vulnerability

Poured out, onto the ground.

Where is truth? Is it

Constant like the sky?

Predictable like the Sun,

To where we can measure

It with hours and seconds,

Until a New truth evolves,

Leaving some in the dark.

Work to survive, though people

Everyday struggle just to be alive.

There has to be more, 

Within this frail flesh, fragile

Bones. My fortitude sometimes

Weakens, and my spirit collapses,

Though I remain, following the Sun,

Waiting for the Spring to come.

Visibility Low

I can't see

Ten inches 

In front of me.

Life moves on

And I go

With the flow.

I pretend to know

What I am doing,

But in reality,

I can't even see

Ten inches in

Front of me.

I am no clairvoyant,

Though I do see the future.

Not in Palms, nor

Tea leaves, nor signs.

I see the future in eyes.

Ten, the magic number 

That allows me to see

Past lies, into soul depths

I pierce to find hidden truths

Of who we are.

No one ever comes 

Within ten inches, 

So I remain blind.

Miner Hero Complex

There are veins of gold

Pulsating rhythmic beats

Beneath a blue, 

Blue-blue sky

Dripping clear liquid

Down sharp carved

Stone features.

I can break through the

Hard exterior, clear

Away the shattered earth,

And begin to excavate

The sunshine that

Was once there.