No matter how lost we are 

In the labyrinth of life

I'll find my way back to you 

Just where you are

For you are the home 

I carry within me 

Through trials and trails 

No one talks about 

Coming Together

Coming home to you is 

Coming home to myself

Darkness and desolation 

Dissipate in the light of

Our unstoppable union

Unspoken words and 

unhealed wounds

Wordless spaces and 

nameless desires

Dance with the tides 

of our mingling breaths

We belong in this abyss

Unrooted from our chosen paths

We belong to each other 

Inseparable in body and spirit

We belong to ourselves 

Embracing the truths of being

Kindred Spirit

Cat infested with maggots

Half decayed, half living

Came to my door step

To lay its head until death arrived

Body rotting, 

Soul seeking redemption 

I looked on

Helpless and shaken 

Offering to quench the

Thirst of a dying animal

Mulling over the futility

Of worldly trappings 

Bodily desires

Yearning and heartache

Withered away

As the spoils of life

Evoked the kindred spirit

Of mortal beings

Poetry and brokenness

Poetry erupts from a place of brokenness

Today I experienced the familiar emptiness
that has haunted my soul for ages
there was no agony or chaos
or the jitteriness
of not being able to put a finger on that nameless void
which makes me look compulsively unhappy

this time there was a certainty
even a sense of relief
for I felt at home in the abyss of my heart
loneliness had the flavors of solitude
and I felt a deep yearning
to scoop out my openly bleeding core
and place it on the cusp of my hand
to whisper soothing words of self-love
and burn with it without remorse

even the skies played along
winds blew against my pale skin
and winter felt unusually moist
like the cold embrace of a rainy day

I feel at ease
not having to silence the mind
through meaningless banter
I begin to write again
love notes to my forgotten selves
and dare to peep through the
cracks in my broken heart
which has always relished
the heady nectar of poetry

Could've beens

What could have been
is a strange being
elusive and dead
yet raising its phantom head
through all the crevices
in the maze of reality
you know how it feels
when all your proxies are lined up
and a nebulous force
blows on them until
you are exposed
threadbare
vulnerable
and you remember
who you used to be
songs that tickled your innocence
voices that eased the surges
touches that seared and healed
repeatedly
and then you flip back to the present
in awe of who you have become
even doubting for an instant
who the hell you are
the ghost or the reborn
and then you see it
like a hologram
switching faces in guile

Hiatus

I know why I'm not able to write like before
there's a wordless space between my ribs
where monstrous angst used to gnaw away
it was so real then that it broke into sounds
the wounds are sealed in hard blood now
melding what refused to be held together
until a strange silence blew over them

it ain't easy tuning in
to the frequency of silence
no matter how it coddles you
let alone beading strands of words
that sound like silence

right back up

water it

water it down

like suzy

easy suzy

ha!

no pink shells

a little less cracker

just some flow

a little sparkle

at the edges

no glitter

just some flow

nothin' to rave 'bout
just there

o man!
can't even see 'em now

gotta dive down

grope the seabed

bring it up

wring it up

woo hoo!
bring it up
n' wring it up
now! now!!

writer's block

like the waves

it comes surging from afar

rising to the skies

hurling itself into a snakehead

pouncing on the moment

foaming deceptively

mixing in with the hackneyed
guilefully

water and sand

sea and shore

pristine

then slowly retracts

leaving behind imprints

and washing ‘em out

over and over again