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JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Sunday, February 19, 2017



Cry

All that black,
where the white wants to be seen,
where the light and vision tries to break in,
or venture out,
when its boxed and locked up,
morally exhausted,
when fingers so broken,
they can't lift that blinding veil,
refuse to pry open that box,
no matter how hard we pray,
or try and try and try,
while all that blackness,
steals away all the white,
and all we really want to do,
is cry and cry and cry.

Saturday, February 18, 2017



Uncaring Sky

I wake from nightmares,
Grab pen and paper,
Scribbling those horrid memories,
All that pain, all that painful,
All that suffering and torment,
Marring so many broken pages,
Ink spattered between morbid lines.
Laying down again,
Such a lonely gauntlet I've run,
Watching busy spiders spin webs,
Beautifying the uncaring sky.

Friday, February 17, 2017



Mother Earth wept today,
While Robins sang spring tears away,
Behold! Swift clouds, drifting o'er an icy crest,
As Sister Moon cups her swelling breast.

Restless vagabond, wand'ring lost,
Caged below a barren sky, appears embossed,
Protest sweet dreams with some torrid verse,
Attendant, page thy idle King, ere thou fondly curse.

Deft Horace cleave this coming month at Ides,
Ere justice burn the tree of life with its serpent tides,
In remote regions, where nothing evades corruption,
That talking snake with its poison, its sly invention.

There is a sacred spring, deep in the barren desert,
Where God cries out for the faithful to congregate,
A sacred spring hidden deep in an ancient forest,
Where perfect light entrances wisdom into a sacred fate.

There is a sacred spring welling up in our souls, a living gulf,
Seeking a river to the moon, to the stars, to heaven itself,
Beyond the edge of forever, where a mighty dragon lives,
Where roaring lions lie down with the lamb, such power gives.

Oh intrepid Lilliputian Nuthatch!
Ascending sturdy trees in hopes to catch,
Juicy vagrant insects, where e'er you go,
Such a splendid bird, hastily flitting to and fro!

Atmospheric March, changing seasons portend,
Cousin Titmouse comes verily, a substance to wend,
Migration stations north and south, beyond the heart,
Slipping past errant danger, doing their nomad part.

Stripped to the bone, which modern has done,
All that ancient custom and ceremony gone,
All our flight feathers torn out from the very root,
So corporate profiteers successfully silenced moot.

How much water has been uncaringly poisoned?
How much good soil has been treacherously ruined?
How many worms and birds are drunk and dead?
How many family farms, now despoiled with all that dread?

Pure water and the lack of it, so much hurt,
All that intense diverse desert, lack of good dirt,
Scrutinizing and speculating, such a varied sum,
Nervous in our midst about what may and may not come.

Wonderment about what went down, again that sacred tree,
Across the sands of time, across that vast roiling boiling sea,
Across the face of the laughing moon, so spiritually grand,
Stars falling into the blazing sun, like drifting desert sand.

Galaxies wandering across the universe, like lost children,
Uncertainty about whether it will rain upon some warbling Wren,
So much angst about hurricanes, whether life will be blown away,
Many questions, if the tide will ebb or flow, whether good life will stay?

As night draws its uncertain curtain, before the coming dawn,
As the sun dries drops of reflective dew, from off the desert lawn,
From off all the fragrant blooms, neighbours to struggling herbs and shrubs,
In this changing season and atmosphere, birds search for juicy fat grubs.

Where the restless world cavorts with untold disaster,
Where wells and springs dry up, searching for a water master,
Disappearing once again, that unforgiving desert with its curs,
Heroes and explorers strive blindly, so invention, so abundant cures.

Before lying down in the freezing cold, harbouring their sorry goals,
Numerous failures and waterfalls tumble, stealing their ragged souls,
Dragging them away in shackles, contrite through the moil and muck,
Across virgin territory towards virgin home, where life is thus unstuck.

Further into weeping  jungles, across arid deserts, souls are lured,
Where only helpless screams and cries shall e'er be heard,
Until all is finally calm with all those faithful, left bravely standing,
Beyond those unfortunates left behind, kneeling and cowering.

With all our trembling hands and voices raised in thousands,
With all our mystified eyes riveted on those unblinking heavens,
Meeting all that treachery and gloom promised with that stature,
Washing o'er the failing earth, in all its grief and all its vivid nature.

While God sits high upon his golden celestial throne,
Pointing down with his angry vision and roiling tone,
God's deliberate finger grazing this wounded earth he's seen,
Knowing once upon a time all was perfect, once everything serene.

Saturday, February 11, 2017



When those twenty million gallons of agent orange were sprayed,
a lasting gift from that great harlot, those barbaric war lords brayed,
so many weapons of mass destruction, readily used with harmful intent,
on Vietnamese people, both Viet Cong and Viet innocent,
leaving so many poisoned, multitudes of dead and crippled for life,
stripping vibrant jungle of being, demanding destruction and strife,
as is that pernicious agents very nature,
autographed in orange with a lasting horrid future,
artful lethal compounds, such morbid conjecture.
Still three million innocent children live rough,
all those others too, that have lived long enough,
growing into adulthood, after agent orange stopped falling,
unable to cope in normal, institutionalized by some kind calling,
some effort, little medicine, some compassion, so heartfelt,
beyond that toxic substance, with invasive dioxins, horribly dealt,
those chemical companies producing, not ever owning up, even yet,
forever, "It's not our fault, the army paid us handsomely, you bet!"
"Our armed forces needed, just another weapon of war, so we could live free!"
Planes dousing mischief onto trees, drenching all the birds and the bees,
raining down on green lavish jungle, onto what was never negligible,
on once happy Vietnamese, folk simply growing rice and vegetable.
Agent orange, eradicating foliage, annihilating flora and fauna,
wrecking birds and fish, insects and mammals, all that jungle manna,
wiping out goodness in Asian gardens, extirpating soil with a shocking tide,
creaming life out of the place, dreaming ruined lives, obliterating countryside,
disfigured babies, deformed DNA that be born, life struggling in heroic ways,
trying to survive, wanting breath and hearing, simply seeing, praying for better days,
 to have a body, with arms and legs, fingers and toes,
as God and nature intended, beyond unjust travesty, so it goes and so it goes.
War in Vietnam, initial reports in 1965, a 'police action', so that cover-up declared,
war in every corner of the earth, war war and war, no wonder the world is always scared,
strife forced on normal people, compelling nations, strong-arming government,
ferociously coercing mother earth, Gaia to bend, as if ecosystems do not care they're rent,
insisting violence mar religion, violate the world, simply because,
simply because, simply because, red plagues they cause,
hammers and sickles, those unions and peasants and workers,
that red myth, bullet holes spewing red blood from all those dissidents and shirkers.
Life splattered from ripped veins and arteries, while justice cowered deathly still,
politicians and generals, carving flesh from wailing turf, destroying every rise and hill,
burning villages, cities and jungles, wasting women and children, both young and old,
leaving devastation, total destruction in their wake, with their twisted wartime mold,
creating more dissent and hatred, making all the world despise and loath them,
heartless commanders in their shallowness and malice, unoccupied by zen,
in their odious nature, forgetting nations won't forget, people shall never forgive,
those many travesties, year after year, poured out on the earth and all that live,
their evil and warfare, all that carnage and demolition, demanding a definitive rout,
dreaming up battle plans, nightmares for the world, to sweat and scream about,
while compassion and understanding is torched, so ever wrong,
with each conflagration, without respect, or any happy birdsong,
without prayers, void of God's assent, without a trace of humanity,
with their lost souls relishing all that immoral wicked travesty,
immersed in their depravity, soaked and cloaked, in all their heinous villainy,
dropping bombs, causing death that makes them smile, all that planned tyranny.
"I love the smell of napalm in the morning", so commanders claimed,
eating bleeding hearts, breakfast for champions, all their contempt unchained,
spouting lies and falsehoods, about glory and patriotism, part of their subversive game,
demanding villages be blown up and burned, while the moon goes black with shame.
All that Vietnam, untold atrocities, as corporate consumers plead, all that rigid starkness,
ignorance ne'er belayed, without guilt or disgrace, into night, into darkness,
further into hell, while freedom and purity, savaged like hungry ghouls and ghosts,
ravaged and strangled by the neck, unceremoniously hung from city lamp posts,
that no longer shine, from sorry trees and goalposts, that no longer feel any humility,
until all those burning children, crucified men and individuals, executed without civility,
so many shot in the head, strafed and bombed into bloody, bits blown all around,
now laying mortified and grieving, moaning below the weeping ground,
buried deep beneath, entombed in that moist and melancholy Asian soil,
crypts that shall never forget, can never forgive, result of all that moil,
waiting for the wrath of God, retribution against that invading horde,
trusting in the word of God, "for vengeance is mine" saith the Lord.
In time, all that harlot's assumed greatness and fiendish haste,
nefarious taste, reformed into towering pillars of salt and toxic waste,
consumed by greed, shocked by caustic chemical corruption,
perishing, shall rot away into nothingness, a just submission,
in godforsaken vestibules, uncertain and forsaken,
where devilish plots are contrived and undertaken,
scheming in bunkers, all that is agent orange, bombs and guns,
more deplorable war, setting another stage for further runs,
drawing another curtain, for the blind to gaze through,
with their big heads stuck deep in the sand, it's true,
while all those dead Vietnamese, so many other nations,
smile at their destruction, at their folly, from foreign stations,
while the humorous sun does a double-take,
in this lasting winter, for our sad world's sake.
Kneeling in that Holy place,
Jerusalem, a virtuous space,
that new peace,
dome of the rock,
a wailing wall,
so much hope,
so much prayer,
so many folk,
with so many cares,
courageous acts and faithfulness,
wanting in their bleeding hearts,
living life with all its good parts,
good neighbours, live and let live, forever,
maybe not yet dear God, conceivably never.
Perhaps only when the sun turns its face to the east,
setting an esoteric table, serving another pious feast,
all people cry out with fervent choice,
seeking freedom's truthful voice,
requesting true religious faith, not folly,
oh sacred sacred and holy holy,
blessing all those mystic rings,
remarking all those living things,
drops of consecrated water bring,
seeping verily from that deep wellspring,
all that rising holiness,
wisdom bubbles forth with all its godliness,
effervescent with its thirstiness,
washing away all our sinful trope,
watering favourable Eden with a cool spray,
overflowing with divine goodness and hope,
where comforting Angels come to pray.

Friday, February 10, 2017



Ramblings of a Mad Man

So there we were,
sailing across that Arabian desert,
a splendid sea,
teeming with fishes and sea monsters,
hoping to reach the Black Sea,
before noon on the moonless morrow.
Mermaids, dressed in embroidered silk kimonos,
sang for us from the very crests of those flowing dunes,
while we made merry eating dates and figs and raisins.
Our landship was like an ark,
so many cubits by so many cubits,
with a draft of plenty,
built with stories of scented planks,
wood oozing frankincense and fragrant myrrh.
Our brave captain saluted the blazing sun,
as that bright orb skirted brilliant Venus,
heading for warrior Mars and ringed Saturn,
on that daily journey,
across the mystic universe,
where absent landlords,
marvel in great numbers.
Our sails billowed with happiness and joy,
as our camels brayed from that wooden deck,
before morning prayers,
on that shadowless trek,
crossing the depths of that endless sea.
Sarah and Penelope, adorned with bangles and beads,

timbrels and cymbals keeping the shaking beat,
danced wildly across the shimmering deck,
as our shipmates caressed their sweaty brows,
with handkerchiefs made from spun gold.
In our wildest dreams the world sank, 

arrested into blessedness,
not withholding all the tea in China,
not withstanding all that was promised us,

when we departed our now distant home port,
dear Agrippalonia, on that fabled coast,
midst hails of cheers and good wishes,
from legions of bystanders and well-wishers,
waving, as we drifted away into the night,
enlivened by a myriad of twinkling stars,
and all those legends that were once forgotten,
before the flood stole every man's heart and soul,
before God renounced the world,
making us spin and turn and twist like tops,
into tomorrow where dreams are made,
and all good things surely come to light,
on those beautiful shores and acres,
upon that stark and mysterious Arabian bight,
we all adore, and love to call heaven's makers.

Tuesday, February 7, 2017



In time I must bid adieu.
At last I must say goodbye,
to all those I knew.
Burying forgotten dreams,
by and by,
remembered visions,
so verily I sigh.
Raw emotion,
so filled with fear,
rememb'ring cherished love,
wishing I could bring things back,
those significant matters that were so dear.
Then the blue sky turns black,
like the vagrant morrow.
I drift through the hours,
days filled with sorrow,
my heart so heavy,
tears blur my sorry eyes.
Today we escaped,
all those dead poets and I,
sleeping in graveyards,
evading the blazing sun.
Together we vagabonds eluded,
that tortuous consuming fire,
beyond all that want and need,
leaving behind sin and greed,
all those infinite sorrows,
so many indefinite tomorrows.
Precious time ticks quickly by,
timeless moments race swiftly by,
charging reckless into each foreign fray,
reaping tutelage in some broken way.
In this time of darkness,
in this time of strife,
in this time of uncertainty,
we each seek meaning for this life.
When the world and men go insane,
when young men pick up arms,
rush off to war,
when blood is spilled for glory,
oh so vain,
when peace is doomed,
there is love no more.
Toss horrid war on the scrap heap,
dig a grave and bury war deep,
on war's tombstone scribe 'Good Riddance To Thee',
in that place worship worthy peace,
as peace bows down for thee and me.
Thank you for inviting me here today,
let heaven's prayers help us find a goodly way,
rememb'ring God blessed us with a generous feast,
honouring the stars and moon,
guiding us to that sacred peace.
Oh sacred mountain!
Your sweet vapours so amazing!
Spirit blessings garnished by that ancient fountain!
Awash in milk and honey, a wondrous glazing!
Source of holy Shiva's birthplace,
Godhead visited, once then twice,
sanctuary of this epic human race,
where infinite dreams forever suffice.
Eccentric mystics no less,
where evasive ascetics dwell,
worshiping this divine goddess,
chasing the elusive wind,
such a harsh mistress,
whispering through that holy dell.

Monday, February 6, 2017



What luck?
White dove of peace,
bloodied, nailed to its wooden cross, 
awaiting death like a wounded duck.
Come Angel, pray, desperate release,
while errant dreams lay still,
on a patch work quilt of moist green moss.
Trudge uphill,
from that incurable place,
a slow death,
seeking fire and rain.
If luck be with us,
no room for loss,
only latitude for gain.
What love,
if love be true,
mends a broken heart?
That dying dove,
mended hearts be few,
tears flood o'er every broken part.
If God exists,
if love be true,
if love heals,
imagine passionate love,
rallying compassionate trysts.
Heaven's gentle kisses too,
whilst holy ghosts caress wounded souls,
the spirit feels,
infinite love, in heavenly time and colour,
that place where hearts are mended,
wounded souls are tended,
where brave angels exist with untold valour.
While here on earth, light's ethereal plane,
existence remains, existential.
Life is suffering, savage greed and lust always vane,
though air and water, true love too, so essential.
But luck, like peace, so seldom rendered,
and those wounded hearts,
like broken lives,
are tempered cold with rain.

Sunday, February 5, 2017





Shadows

Overcome by shadows that follow me all the way home,
Overrun by vague mysteries that haunt my penumbral being,
Attached to my ragged ends, like curious elves and gnomes,
Splintered trends I've dragged behind me, I'm forever seeing.

Fragmented songs and stories, those opaque bits and pieces,
With all their wants and needs, like hungry orphaned beings,
Faults with outstretched hands, like needy nephews and nieces,
Dressed in tattered costumes, eyes pleading with constant needing.

Dreaming in my secret garden, I talk to the stars and moon,
Imagining a time when love stayed, when loving hearts loved unfrayed,
Traveling across the vagabond sea, those dim shadows arrived so soon,
Bargaining with time I sacrificed love, sweet love it was betrayed.

I waited on the platform, for a promised train,
Waited until the night fell, but you never came,
I waited as the sun rose, waited in a cold chill rain,
Waited til the stars went dim, still you never came.

Time has run away with love,
Far across a raging sea,
Wantonly abducted love,
Stolen love from you and me.

I see you surrounded by fragrant bloom,
Waiting to see you once again, in your garden that grows so true,
Dreaming oceans of splendid colour, adorned as a fabulous room,
Magenta, green and gleaming white, cerulean tinted with azure too.

Here I am, dancing on my own, try to smile beyond my unkind frown,
Under starlit skies, with the lonesome moon howling blue, so it is that love tries,
Wishes fall like crystal balls, gems glist'ning on love's studded crown,
Midst fears and cascading tears sad echoes sigh, entwined by distant lonely cries.

Those secret words you speak,
I know those words truly seek,
Wanting me to peruse between the lines,
Where I read all the news, envision all the signs.

List'ning for a prophet's chant, tell-tale poesy scrawled 'cross forum walls,
Persistent clouds choke the sky, still lost I search and quest for thee,
Madonna shivering in naked silence, broken with her barren mewing calls,
Lovers kiss with guns drawn, cocked hammers resting upon a jerking knee.

So it is, cold ocean washes away all my temporal fears,
Swept into an unknown deep, into some bottomless well,
Where dreams are lost forever, passion drowned by so many tears,
Love waves a white flag high o'er head, as careless time rings the final bell.

Saturday, February 4, 2017



Word,
A word,
Another word,
Line,
A line,
Another word,
Another line,
Wonder words,
Wonder meanings,
Wonder lines,
Building words,
Building lines,
Line, after line,
Word, after word,
Line after line,
Some spark,
Some thought,
Some word,
Some line,
Some mean,
Some meaning,
Into sentence,
Into paragraph,
Into meaning,
Imagine context,
Imagine words,
Imagine lines,
Imagery evolves,
Imagery involves,
Words and lines.

Friday, February 3, 2017



Part Of Me

Forgive me my love,
I just couldn't hang on anymore,
Destiny's hunger gave me a final shove,
Adrift on the ocean, so very far from shore.
Forgive me my love,
Painful dreams haunt then taunt me,
Lest grace and strength shine down from above,
Encompass our hearts, bejeweled and free.
Forgive me my love,
Distant time purloins our passion,
Drives away morning's peaceful affliction,
Curtails sweet emotion in a scornful fashion,
Reforming with fervor my obsessive devotion.
Forgive me my love,
Once affection filled our wanting hearts,
While the stars and moon applauded our rapture,
Love itself moaned and wept when we fell apart,
An essential part of me, love failed to capture,
Cut off in one beat of the heart,
Words and vows left far behind,
Existing in an astral place, we're meant to meet,
Some bit of me left wasting, that bitter rind,
Promises left suffering on a vacant street,
Standing out front of your peaceful home,
Empty hands in my expressionless pockets,
Hollow, all alone in that dwelling zone,
Puzzling, if by chance you'd ever want to meet,
Pond'ring, if by God you still abide or even live,
Staring at your overgrown yard from that empty street,
Questioning whether you still have any love to give,
Knowing things should have been more symmetrical for me and you,
Wond'ring how things might have been different for us,
Assuming asymmetrical values, in some good way a better view,
Things should have been, without all that messed up fuss,
Laughing together, agreeing at times as we did without pardon,
Happiness laughing kisses into being, heart to heart there,
Holding hands, gently seated side by side in your scented garden,
Tender moments, wrapped in joy under an intimate blanket of care,
Embracing life in love's garden, Matisse blossoms in that wondrous shire,
Gravity drawing us together in a paradise of Audubon birds,
Attached we soared, happy notes and fragrant songs lifting us higher,
Magpies reciting lyric poetry, accompanied by chords of fifths and thirds,
Poems and prose encompassing that sacred grove of eucalypts,
Faeries entranced by scattered bric-a-brac, bits of Aztec pottery, those simple charms,
Striped mother felines with their calico kittens, rambunctious romps, such lively trips,
Cats snoozing lazy afternoons away, caressed by heady streams of eager Australian sun,
Imprinted lyrics on our deficient souls, subjects of that placid park,
Sharing intimate Eden, precious moments captured in all that warmth and fun.
Memorable rainbow dreams, colours of the wind piercing each narrow mark,
Fletching and shaft marred and scarred by a full spectrum of love's ardent folly,
Painting myriads of sky tales, awash with watercolour trails,
Crisscrossing that framed Australian sky, far above drooping ivy and draping holly.
Regret comes to mind now, traveling due north of that Coral Sea with billowed sails,
Now, after such a long journey and these many years of grieving, 
Presently, so many years later, standing near Golgotha with its many torments,
Sensing your precious heartbeat and your spirit breathing,
Remembering our sultry kisses, romancing all those tender moments,
Laying naked, entwined and pressed together,
Necking in the park, studying Kierkegaard and Universe,
Making love like Adam and Eve in that temperate weather,
Reciting Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Neil Young verse,
Entranced, our hearts in love under a harvest moon,
Dancing our legs off together at heady Woodstock,
Singing with Janice Joplin and Joe Cocker, as singers croon,
Walking hand in hand down your serene block,
So many spirits and apparitions hovered, arriving late,
So much life lived in that polished emerald time.
Ghosts weep, sweeping silently by your barred garden gate,
Glorious fate and rubies! Dare I expect more than some simple rhyme!
Here I stand, knock knock knocking at your shelter state,
Your tender kisses, all our passionate touch and near misses,
All our love, wandering confused with destinies child and sheer fate,
Those dreamy looks of love, tempered by fluttering wings of that peaceful dove,
Precious moments, eye to eye, lips to lips, skin to skin,
Showering us with all those vibrant colours of the wind,
Tow'ring over us, torrid waves of ecstasy, love is free from sin,
Sharing all love's carnal pleasure and all that joy heaven sent,
Still wand'ring Golgotha, past kneeling rings, bowing rounds and dangling strings,
Part of me dwells there, abreast of sacred Uluru on such majestic continent,
Praying for blue skies, sickened by so many strangling things.
Quiet Claude street in sight, a mirage between Alice Springs and ocean blues,
Another world in another dream, impartial dreamtime, or so it seemed,
Kookaburra scolding, Gallahs serenading mobs of reckless kangaroos,
Walking songlines, I trekked across icy spired mountains,
Ascending vertical peaks, running deep river rapids too,
Searching for love's mysterious sacred fountain,
Grand Australia! Like Black Feather, I sing for you!
Far distant from Nelson's reach and Sherlock Holmes and Baker Street,
Treasures abound in this wash of forest and fresh mountain air,
Spells of blessings curl round us mountain folk, where we meet.
Finding myself again, rapping gently, knocking lightly there,
Abreast of your magic garden entry,
Just step inside, discover all that ardent precious life!
Birds singing happiness, scented blooms your garden sentries.
Part of me still firmly rooted there, burdened with all my strife,
Wondering if you'll ever come to your gate,
Please my love come boldly, answer your door!
Hoping with all my heart and soul I'm not too late!
Greet me with your smiling face, just like you did before!
Let me take you in my loving arms,
Drink in your intoxicating eyes and grace,
Let us be together, bathed in all love's charms,
Kiss your tender lips, caress your soft hair and face,
Let us feel our beating hearts, pressed warmly together,
Holding that sublime part of me that still lingers there,
Cement and fuse those errant bits of me that come hither,
With you wrapped tightly in my loving arms,
Us together again, wrapped in all love's splendid charms,
Journey home, whole again, at last joyful and feeling right,
Rounding the yearning sun, complete and solid like a rock,
Let me find and see you once again, in such divine light,
God grant me courage, enough to knock.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017



Without Hope

Without hope, there is only despair,
Without joy, no reason to care,
Without love, our hearts are thread bare,
Without God, nothing's really there.

A great solitude is looming, silence is coming,
Deep in my eternal soul I lament that cowering cur,
Shut up in that moment when birds no longer sing,
Precious seconds lost, when living life is no longer sure.

No  more bird song, no birds flying of any kind,
Skies above that are no longer blue, no longer true,
Now we have come to this disastrous place where we find,
Mother Earth weeps for all that is lost, heaven is crying too.

Such great longing and sadness,
Stirring across God's vast universe,
Hoping for a glimmer of gladness,
Perhaps adorned with a loving verse.

Here I am, drowning in a perilous light,
Petrified with fear, peering blind into the uncaring night,
Stumbling on all my broken parts, life just isn't quite right,
Haunted by curious shadows that follow me, just out of sight.

There is no rescue as this maelstrom sweeps me further out to sea,
Jeopardy torments the wind as titanic waves crash over me,
Sea foam sprayed, an uncaged monster taunting that perplexing deep,
Splaying all my lost dreams across the frothing sea love could not keep.

Riddles whispered softly in my ear,
Secret words spoken from your heart,
Love's sweet garden, one holds so dear,
Tow'ring waves dashing heartfelt dreams apart.

Shrouded spectres, pouring life into timeless graves,
Harken! Listen well while morning dew silently drops,
Shadowed hands caress night away, wounded time thus surely braves,
While perfumed blossoms flutter spent and dead, withered love's bitter tops.

Swept away in this fumbling torrent,
Drowned by distant unfathomable love,
Tangled by this tainted curse, so abhorrent,
Nothing but the rain falling from high above.

Why love? So much ill timed heartache!
Beat me senseless, endure this rancid pain,
Your sweet lips and kisses, allow me, partake,
Lost in this tumultuous hurricane, so contemptuous, so vain!

Wash off the blood from this deep cut,
Smeared by lust in this bloody game,
Slam closed that door, lock it shut,
Awake, floundering, shipwrecked, aflame.

God's laughing, as memories come flooding home,
Remembrance, time and time again, an open wound,
Like some contrived novel, an Edwardian tome,
Yet as dark night sets, this burning love, once again I swooned.

Without love, sunny days are lost in despair,
Gather love, bring heartfelt home to snug and nestle,
Without love, I walk this lonely road, no one to care,
Gather love, sun will shine no matter how much we wrestle.

I am nothing more than a whisper in the wind,
This frail earthly shroud will in the end disappear,
In hope I loved, your loving heart, love shall ne'er rescind,
In love we hoped, loving hearts, yet lost love shall ne'er reappear.