Cheers to a life once lonely

I’ve fallen in love with my dream man.
Twirling in circles; my hand on the small of his back.
On top of the world, he told me he’d always take care of me,
and he commissioned a portrait in my honor
that I wasn’t supposed to know about.
Dressed in black, him in a tux
We danced, my head lay on his shoulder.
I felt, I knew, I found my forever…
now where are you?

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Stay Humble

Everyone (wants to) think they are an artist.
But, true art is meant to fall apart.
It is the “and” “or” and “but”s stringing along a paragraph, written that makes no sense.
It is the tint of blue hue that lines the border of a sunset that mocks a sunrise as it bleeds orange,
The corners of undeveloped film exposed to light.
The string of pearls mixed with coiled silver that have no need to be laced by the same chain.
Mixed media splattered in disarray, leaving the bigger picture as an untold mystery.
Pricks on your finger from a sewing needle;
The dusty antiques in your mother’s basement, that you’ve been meaning to put up for auction.
A kindergartener’s fingerprints that make even the most childishly drawn tree look full with leaves.
The sheet music with stains of coffee from a night of successful orchestri.
The talent of swaying to a tune too beautiful and hushed to be spoiled.
The morbidity of your mind clouded with cataracts, distracting from the overall picture.
Freedom of body language that tells its own story.
Science behind modern inventions used while
time passes, spent correcting the “if” “will” and “want”s.
The joy it brings, and the suffering that allows one to spill their heart in a vibrant scene of unforeseen dreams,
playing trickery with the minds of the mean,
the silent beings with modesty certain – making for the art that is worth it.

all rights reserved. ©

Consider It Done

My Mother once told me
The days will grow longer
And I will be stronger, too…
The pain, it will fade, and some day, I will say that
My dreams did come true…

All the wills in the world
Won’t save me from fear
And as I let it eat at a lie…
Life keeps on passing me by;

Oh, how blessed I must be,
To have everything surrounding me –
The gift of bliss,
Yet, here comes the quiver;
A cold breeze of worry…
Just remember –
Things will work out in their own way…
Everything is going to be okay…

Then, I am older
The fondness gets bolder
I may be forsaken,
But the moment is for the taking;
And as I let it eat at a lie…
Life keeps on passing me by.

Continue reading

A Full Plate

Torn up; Bent
Heart ripped in half…
The truth is that nothing gold will last.
And if you say “it’s ok”,
To me it’s not.
Because I always finish what I start.
You may think you’re helping
But it’s this is hurting too much…
This is – was – my dream
I have given my best shot.
I can’t make everyone happy
But most of all, me.
All I wanted was to please
Even that wasn’t easy.
The run around is not appreciated
Straight shooter
Please tell me the reason
How can you burn out the sun
(And let live?)
when I was there for the long run?
It was a privilege

The Longest Day of the Year

Summer storms while sleeping
Ain’t life pretty?
Tender thighs
And soft eyes
As I wait for the words
“I’m ready”

Seems these days…
The sun light gets in the way;
Thoughts jumbled
Heads a mess
Is this a curse
Or a blessing?
Both? Yes.

Counting hours –
My, how fast time exceeds!
When you’re with the ones you love
That’s all you need…

Summer storms while sleeping
Ain’t life pretty?
Tender thighs
And soft eyes
As I wait for the words
“I’m ready”

May have hit a high note
(I’ve sure as hell been lower)
As the days pass over ~
Pondering seems shorter
Weeks turn to months,
(Spin around, the years)
I beg of anyone who hears this…
Keep love near.

Summer storms while sleeping
Ain’t life pretty?
Tender thighs
And soft eyes
As I wait for the words
“I’m ready”

Continue reading

Fight the Good Fight or Be Fought

People are always coming and going,

Doing favors for them without even knowing;

Destroying what you currently hold with what you aught to want.

Better safe than sorry – Otherwise, you are not.



(These) gazes and stares into eyes

(Those which some would consider blank)

Cover up a story like a newspaper that has caught fire;

I have only one wish and desire: stay and love a while…

Learn what it is like being in a title.

The tidal waves storm over the rose colored haze,

And these glasses, they fog up quite often.


On the other end of this telephone conversation,

Usually I am in control of the radio stations…

…(And more static breeds louder voices, but meaning begins to fade out)…

Stagnant air – breath in deep and exhale.

But on the other hand,

Skips of the heart are rare.

May you agree, “This was meant to be.”

For the risks being taken are my allowance to be set free.


One always wishes for love and royalty,

Who would not want a paparazzi?

(Words explode with truth ladened with false justice.)

I feel as though I know where your head truly was.

A balance to the tracks that are displaced;

Security is what I lack.

(Secrecy is not tact)

Bought then sold –

Is the mirror image of my soul too cold?

(Please, for me darling, edit the way you speak before the barter turns stale)

It is much easier to be silent than master an attempt to be bold.

Into an unfinished story, dusted and only once told…

Continue reading

White Flags

Darkened meadows

Dreamscapes draped upon

Sound shadows.

Scale the walls

(up and down);

You have no use for me now.

Bring about a common enemy,

Searching for the end to suffering,

While engaged in a muffled slumbering.

Excuse the accused,

Innocence is at its near.

Yet, guilt stays beyond the felt,

In corner coves covered in fear;

A hot burning stove,

But outside, mango groves

(they continue to grow).

Destination still in sight, without turmoil,

Posing a threat to abet to the rules left from drained and ruined oils.

Who will take the role of the fool?

The one who will pity the precious parties

and twisted tongues…those who have yet to be abused.

Challenges chased and unmarked schools

(What a remarkable excuse!).

Be quiet, and no one will lose.

However, remember, the whispers in silence

are not to be taken harshly.

Light is found in the lightly.

Do not upset the marshlands,

(Jump off the old bandwagon)

And keep marching…