Josephine

The squalls, sequestered by the

sun then next to me, but

now a chill is dropping on

the crimson-tinted sea

Josephine, was it you, Josephine?

Scattered in the grasses,

asleep amongst the strew, I

gathered every part of me

when I awoke to blue
Was it you, Josephine, was it you?

It's Only Love II

Love is shameful, but only so
when love has been ashamed
Gates torn down in unison,
and loving flows untamed.

Better like a garden tended
to, 'till blossom takes its course
Like gently snipping at the stem,
whereas to take by force.

When Fires Frothed Between The Wakes

When fires frothed between the wakes

forgotten past the hill,

despite their blindnesses, I waved

to those who wished me ill.

It burns on forward, the ardor

that marred the forest floor,

where trees imbibed with chlorophyll 

are ashen at their core.

The embers snapped underfoot,

when all the rest was Hell

I came to where a bridge should be

and that had burned as well.

Murder, A Fellow?

With nowhere to go;

a pleasant end from hello,

is always then murder, a fellow?

I knew by the plaid;

he’d always been mad,

but driven to murder, a fellow?

Whichever one sees;

why would I keep a friend

who could murder a fellow with ease?

I'll Write Her a Novel Someday

Every verse had been unforgettable,

But apart, each verse is a fray

And presently, I can’t seem to spare a word,

So I’ll write her a novel someday

We’re willing to hurdle the obstacles,

Because an unbridled day is ahead

And at the end of the day, I’ll write it by night,

Then say I was sleeping instead

It’ll come once I’m ready to recollect,

I have fragments, but the entire design

I foresee every line, inspired by diamonds,

That are rough until I make them shine

I don’t believe in unfinished destiny

I’m on borrowed time to bide,

And I promise if you promise to wait for me,

So I can patiently wait by your side.

Austerity of Air

The illusive autonomy of pain,

that veils the vital pair:

Ubiquity of purpose, and

austerity of air

So idle, until the moment

to tear the fetters free

Let drag your former chains behind,

then shackle them to me

It’s a willful burden born by love;

a love that bears all things

A love; autonomous like pain,

but illustrates the Springs

I would live in recluse before I’d die;

without this fellowship

And with only calls to mind inside,

Surely, surely I would slip.

There Gathered Silences

Here, they say, encased by brick

and copper buttresses,

beneath a ragged banner --

there gathered silences

Where empty lofts, once built for hymns,

now echo memories;

of the ringing in her elder walls,

that rang for centuries

The unwilling abdications;

by slander, or by sleuth

When many silences of trust

was silence of the truth

A pounding on the heavy door

split our placidity

As if they’d been forgotten,

“It’s me!” they called, “It’s me!”