I've seen your face a thousand times since you walked away.
Each time a hoax, a sham, a shattered hope.
Each time I am left with the words that need to be spoken dangling from my lips.
Each time I wonder, will we ever make peace?
Understanding is all I want now, well, that and the piece of me you took.
In life, as in the garden, there are rare and beautiful blossoms that hold their fragrance (spirit) and form with grace until fading from this earth. The purpose for studying these forms is not toward recreation, for there was not, nor will there ever be another exactly like it, but rather toward enlightenment through its memory. It is through our memory of its beauty that we hope to reach its memories of self discovery.
My teeth are the first I notice.
The crystallization of the senses ant a retardation of time.
It comes in a rush from the roots of all nature, from the forest, from the primal, undeniable rage.
It comes and I can only feel my teeth as they stretch and ache with the ancient memory of eyeteeth.
Now only the hunter remains, the world afresh.
All things sharp, clear and full of fragrance.
The scent of prey lingers in the air and my tongue recalls the taste of blood.
I begin to move now, changed, feeling only my teeth, I hunt.
Somewhere inside
the key of life
passport to All
Somehow released
from petty thoughts
from stupidity
A new leaf turned
to turn this key
I have to look
I have to find
me mine and all
To hold this truth
I must give up
ego and want
And just let you
be what you are
Help me ...
time stands still
I run forward
but reach nothing
I look backward
but find I haven't moved
Yet lost ...
I can't help
but to look
for the home
I never header
forced words on white sheets
troubled thoughts and lovers meet
in alleyways and colonnades
dancing words turned shifting maze
unseeable without the pen
torn and tattered are become the thoughts of men
A ring of darkness fades from sight
colors blended turn to fight
made strong again by returning light
a look my life has searched for
a breathlessness in the hunger of the eyes
heart and lungs with bitter hope
happy-sad irony, this moment together
what sacrifice could be too great to grant
the courage to make this moment least
but we continue on, passing by
invigorated with this seed of hope
to slowly forget the magic that did not grow