no wonderland lies behind this glass
the silvered truth reveals time passed
and each moment gone is ne’er regained
as evidenced through this mirror’s frame
poet
Ghosts
my dreams are nought but tethered ghosts
a chained ephemeral haunted host
to enact my passions deep
within the cold confines of sleep
but for mine own sanity’s sake
I must their bounds strike ‘fore I wake
Fervid
such sweet abandon tempts me
to deny all reservations
and taste of thee completely
without feigned hesitation
to be consumed inside your flames
that fire of passioned breast
and be fulfilled in our release
with heated fervidness.
Earthly Eyes
I seek not my Elysium
behind blue fresco’d skies
heaven, or indeed hell it seems
sits behind her earthly eyes.
Nomadic
my thoughts nomadic
wandering from place to place
seeking memories
Low Clouds
like longships
they sail downstream
the stuff of lore and legend
held hidden
in their bellies
ancient secrets
told only to the forest pines
in rainfall
Leaves
watching oak leaves fall
though a broken window pane
Eric Satie plays
Gods Despair
behind the sky the gods despair
upon the clay they formed
once was this place an eden fair
before the new gods dawned
made in the image of the dead
and withered parts of souls
the gods can only look in dread
as paradise grows cold.
Better Then
proscribe all my dreams of thee
for in among the passioned flares
there is the fear that always stirs
that one day I will wake to find you gone.
let sleep discard these reveries
and joyous sojourns from the day
as hidden in their guile filled ways
is that one day I’ll wake alone.
better then to never dream
nor dwell long in my fantasies
that they’ll beget realities
of you and me as one.
Still Life?
all of life is still life
to the artist’s eyes
as where life did once exist
it still does when it dies.
