Hearts on Fire

Love inspires
the heart’s desires
for the never ending search
of the ancient fire
that burns within each soul.

Combustion starts
whenever two hearts
are pulled by strings,
tied together
till the rhythmic beat is one.

As time goes by
the flames grow high
to warm the heart and free the tongue
to release the words
that pour out like steam into your ear.

The fire will burn
and the heart will not yearn
for the cold, hard stone
it had been.

Instead, in it’s place
is a flame with your face
as the source of fuel
to keep our love alive.

the truth sometimes hurts

When I say that I love you
you know it’s not a lie.

Yet you ask me to cross my heart,
hope to die,
stick a needle in my eye.

But if I cross my heart
It will never trust me again.

And if I hope to die
I will never be with you again.

And if I stick a needle in my eye
I will never see you again.

So be content
and know that it’s true,
when I say it
I mean it…I LOVE YOU!

Memory Lane

How many times has it happened before?
I can’t remember,
I’ve locked the door
and imprisoned the memories
that bring back the pain
which tortures my soul
again and again.

The key to the lock
is inside my heart,
and every time
its broken apart,
the key tumbles to the dusty floor
to be used by love
to open the door and let the memories
run free once more.

The love that opens the door is not real;
an imposter, a fake
its only there to steal
and to make me feel
like it had all been real
but in truth it was only a lie.

Each time the door is opened wide
the memories held captive inside
crawl out of their holes to once again
take from my mind what might have been
and changes it into one of them;
a nightmare of love, a malignant memory.

But this time I think the pain will subside
in less time than before; I feel it inside.
I’ve captured the escaped memories in no time at all
and returned them to their prison wall.
This time the key to open the cell
is thrown away, but you never can tell.
So I’ll change the lock and replace the key
and hope the memories will let me be.

Lovely Sight Diversion (or Limited Sight Distance)

I’ve got a view of the world
and I’m up above it.
I see through my mind’s eye.

I’m soaring so high
and I really love it
up here where the spirits fly.

The noise in my ears
is the wind in my hair
and a voice inside my head.

It must be singing
but is sounds like its screaming;
I can’t hear the words that are said.

I don’t have a care
up here in the sky.
I leave them all on the ground.

Though they’re out of my mind
I know they’ll be there
after I finally come down.

Its beautiful up here
and I don’t want to leave
but my mind is starting to stray.

So I’ll return to the earth,
pick up my worries,
and fly some other day.

Endless Surf

Rising
Swelling
Building
Forming…Force.

Pulsating
Pushing
Frothing
Seething…Force.

Cresting
Peaking
Curving
Gaining…Force

Cascading
Pounding
Crushing
Losing…Force

Retreating
Reforming
Endlessly
Rebuilding…Force.

Night Fright

Nighttime comes,
I pull the shades around me.
Darkness sings,
The music, it surrounds me.
The time draws near,
it’s closeness does astound me.
I fear the night,
and hope it hasn’t found me.

Darkness holds numerous pleasures
but
a mother scolds and takes away treasures
so
you should love and hold the night.
Keep it’s mysteries, feed your fright!

Watch it grow and totally encase you
in a silky thread that will someday erase you.
It will take you away,
take you from sight
if you don’t let go the fear of the night.

Burning Light

Sitting on my back porch I see
the gentle spark.
Starting small, it gains new height
and intensity,
becoming a burning light.

It quickly grows, sometimes fast,
sometimes slow, but always moving.
It’s path is made behind;
black,
burned,
and lifeless.

Fear escapes my conscious mind
and quickly radiates outward,
I look to my right and the field
is a sea of color:
green,
red,
then black.

Blocking the sun is a billowing
haze of blue.
Sounds of emergency, sounds of anxiousness,
the silent scream of a dying field.

A quick spray and the flames are gone.
Excitement dies, sounds disappear
and I soon return to my chair
relaxing and thinking about
fire,
death,
and rebirth.

Broken Promise

A man, passing a certain point
on a certain sidewalk,
looks back,
reflects upon his being
and is beset by memories.

The sweet fragrance of her perfume;
Her hair, like silken scarves.
The touch of her body with skin so soft.
All taken away but a lifetime too soon.

And a promise to never love again…

He tries to forget what he has remembered
but the floodgates open wide,
pouring out into a paramount vision
of his life without living.

He sees her in the clouds
(They form her silhouette)
He hears her voice in the night
(The wind carries her song)
He feels her in his very soul
(Yearning to break free)

Tears flow, his vision is obscured by hazy clouds.
He sees her in the gloom ahead.
Is it her? He can’t tell.
She turns around, face full in front
of his tear blurred sight.

No, it isn’t her
but she is there.

It happened so fast, he doesn’t believe.
He wouldn’t let go he steadfast truth
that love cannot live
after pain, suffering and grief
have left signs of passing.

But not now.

Inside his heart a feeling begins to break
the chains of self-pity
imprisoning him for so long.
They are wrenched apart,
torn,
broken,
and bleeding.

The promise breaks free from its cold,
dark prison and flies away,
blown on the breeze to fall
unnoticed to the street.

And this man takes her hand in his.
He had found his love again; he would never let it go.
“Do you love?” she whispered,
and whirling around, whisked him into
the still, cold night; laughing, then falling silent.