Wandering her mindscape

The sailboats wandering away into the twilight
Under the bridge of time
On the river of dreams
And onomatopoeic clichés

Rah Rah blah blah
The twilight is now gray
A haunting emptiness
A warrior's cry at the full moon

Of agony that cant be expressed
A sadness that cant be stifled
A melancholy strain of music
Somewhere in the back of my head

Yet unformed, unworded
Yet I know its there
I feel its presence in a cascading avalanche of thoughts
And the vaguest of memories

A hesitant smile that touches the lips
Of crumpled sheets on a crumpled soul on a crumpled bed
Of promises of forever lost in dreams
Of her head on my shoulder and her tears in crook of my arm

Of intense mornings of relaxed conversations
Of perfectness, never experienced before
Of a potential for love
And the limitlessness of hope

And no exigencies of faith
Or the pressures of the heart
Or eagerness of the body or the need of the soul
Of no expectations, just an encompassing contentedness
And yet…………..a searching soul

Free Fallen

"No I never do dinner with friends, and certainly not with alcohol", the undercurrents evident, she'd had dinner and alcohol with him...........and then it had followed, and not just once, but not today, she thought he was being quite the pain, she didn't feel his pain, he of the lofty brow and a "warrior's intellect" he not-so-modestly thought his own, had fallen, fallen too hard and she couldn't see it........or better (or worse) yet, wouldn't see it, she wouldn't care, elemental poetic justice, thought he, she didnt care............a long term proposition he was thinking of contemplating, and he wanted for them to be............making a new life, but she didn't care, conversation ran askew, but he couldnt raise his voice, nor would let his friends think any ill of her, he was fallen, wasn't he? and fallen he would stay for as long as he could see......they say it hurts the knees, but fallen was he and fallen was he to be!

the temple flower and the remorseless darkness

There is comfort in the darkness
A remorseless anonymity
The arms around me are the arms of destiny
The thought of her creates its own fragrance
But those arms are not here anymore
And there is a comfort in the darkness
And the remorseless anonymity

Nursing a funk
The liberation - my mind a misogynist
A misanthrope, a recluse
A violent nothingness
A conclusive darkness
A remorseless anonymity

Of temple flowers
And forgotten moments
The lost pulchritude, a leering sigh
A warrior's shield
A remorseless darkness
There is comfort in the darkness

A weary traveller
A seeker by choice
A warrior of the intellect
In search of the remorseless darkness
And a conclusive peace

Of temple flowers
And forbearance of a myopic sense of doom
Of the remorseless darkness
And an unsympathetic pity
Of fragrances forgotten
And a remorseless darkness
There is comfort in the darkness
and the redolent fragrance of the wilted temple flower..........