Stay Signed In
Do you want to access your site more quickly on this computer? Check this box, and your username and password will be remembered for two weeks. Click logout to turn this off.
Stay Safe
Do not check this box if you are using a public computer. You don't want anyone seeing your personal info or messing with your site.
Look up on the hill over there underneath that tree - the mystical white horses stand.
True to themselves, true to us.
Perfect shape, perfect form, and perfect passion flowing from them.
This widening morning opens up and lets wild horses free.
Their shining eyes looking at me,
burning their images in my mind.
With parted lips they seem to want to talk to me.
White horses against the black background
descended from their hearts, the music they want to seem to sing.
Beloved and most beautiful, they run and jump and leave their prints in the air.
What are those sea - blue eyes saying?
Mountain misty manes flowing wildy and powerfully.
The visions still locked in my mind - echoing 'round and 'round.
The wind is still, time is still.
Oh let them join us!
The voices above, the voices below agree.
A small tree summer born.
A flower summer born.
A leaflet summer born.
Green grass summer born.
Warm sunshine summer born.
Soft breezes summer born.
A beautiful path leads to these
beyond a grassy hill to cushion every blow.
Softly I wander seeing an angel whisper to the trees.
Faint rustlings up above,
I look and there you are watching me friend!
Stretching for miles
spreading underground
bursting into sea
blasting into air
during rain, sun, snow, and cloud
encompassing all things like brilliant fog
tucked into china teacups, tucked into croissants
tap dancing and trumpeting in back alleys, countryside, and city streets
dark as black spider legs
light as white beads
in melancholy states, in uplifting states
I watch under the motionless maple as his bones assume all power.
The bones strut attitude opposite my dull chamber window.
The bones pick up bread crumbs and toss them to the lingering eager pigeons.
The bones pat my little neighbor's heads.
The bones sit on my window ledge glaring straight at me.
God's bones lure me home right where I want to be.
Looking over my shoulder I stumble over my feet.
Change falls out of my pocket
I pick it up.
Someone knocks me down from behind stealing my trench coat.
My prize and possession.
I cry out " You evil soul. Your heart is made of wrought iron."
Tight lipped and rather ragged, I weep to myself - never being heard - never being known!
I hobble away in grief and disgust like a ghost under moonshine.
My heart is of fearful symmetry, each side hurt and afraid.
I have shades of underground
BLACK!
No pleasures come through.
I am without my trench coat.
Plain faces can see that I am not happy
And that is the way that I will stay!
In the land of improvement that is where I will step.
Through the ocean of enlightenment that is where I will swim.
In the heavens above seeking new character that is where I will fly.
My words I speak to encourage myself to change.
Out in the fire is where old belongs.
New belongs on fresh Mother Earth, renewing, revitalising, and reclaiming my soul.
Holding firm the truthness to myself.
Putting lies in the closet.
I will get to know myself on a more personal basis with time.
Feeling great and cheery, I must apply this rule throughout time - past, present, and for future needs.
Softly I wander about
in a silent motion as if not to be known
hidden between leaves and blades of grass
tall emerald or jade like in colour.
A breeze is rushing about bringing powerful floral essences.
Where do I stand?
This is my secret foundation within.
A kaleidescope of colours imprints itself in my mind.
Hearing a wild waterfall it becomes familiar to me.
Gently reaching down to extract a fragile flower, I feel as enraptured as I hold it between my palms, sampling satisfaction.
I locate a place to bury myself in exotic pleasure.
I rest my head and trickles of stimulating thoughts seep through.
I am a skeptic.
I am a marionette.
I hold curiosity.
I hold unawares.
I feel unsure.
I feel listless.
In my arms an artificial sense- a shelter.
I cannot confront this person - this Will.
I am without this person's notice.
I have not yet been acquainted.
I shout out "Will, oh Will, where are you Will?"
I receive no reply.
I feel defeated.
For when I look upon you - my secret love,
I wish to see in your eyes recognition.
I wish to feel your warm seductive embrace.
I wish to feel your fiery hot lips on mine.
"Damn oh damn, where is my Will?"
When tomorrow began without me I was devasted.
I felt cheated out of a simple experience or what was supposed to be a simple experience.
I was to sit in a classroom and complete some exercises on self - help.
Now I don't know what it all involved but I sure wish I did.
Did it involve "knowing my own mind", "positive thinking", "transforming my mind, my spirit, my body?"
I guess I'll never know for I was stuck in the past with my own woes and couldn't yet grow beyond.
Personal growth - don't take it for granted like I did. I wasn't the "majestic mountain" who housed movement of life, but rather I was the stubborn rock who would not budge.
I look to the east and I look to the west
I see an empty doorway
With no one standing there
I feel lonely.
I hear the rough moaning wind urging me on
But my feet do not want to move.
I look and see the horizon trying to play with me.
It has brilliant colours; a curve of gold, blue, and purplish - pink
But I am not interested.
I try to walk but I feel heavy
Tired
I lie down to sleep and sleep for three hundred years.
Dreaming of someone in the doorway
Is it a shadow or true person?
I do not know.
I try to catch it but it only runs and hides.
I ask myself why is he running?
Is he afraid?
Afraid of showing himself?
Afraid of telling me who he is?
He didn't count the cost; the cost of my curiosity
That is what's costing him because I am determined to find him somehow!
My time is up my three hundred years.
I awaken and find him there
In the east and in the west in my doorway.
My doorway is not lonely anymore.
I found his true identity.
He is my spirit, my soul.
I needed to find my inner self
And be freed
Freed from confusion.
Shattering avalanching
upon my head
snow-crust trails my lips
enamel hard to crack
crystal shell
dried in the sun
trunks arching
leaves swaying
broken glass at my feet
long mane
quite the roar
such the sly fox sneer
the elephant and the mouse
tri-coloured many-coloured
Beauty?
No vain, just vain!!!
Why are you so vain to me?
Looking into the window people bustling 'bout
crowded streets,
rattling noise,
baked goods smells,
yard maintenance,
trimmed leaves, cut grass,
children playing games,
families out strolling.
Downpour,
sunshine,
wind,
glistening trees,
Dawn,
dusk,
the in-between,
one season, two season, three season, four.
The cool North standard of living salutes the rich fingers of the land.
The humid South standard of living strives to direct the temples of victory.
The "haves" of the world wear a garland of keen liberty.
The "have nots" of the world wear a ring of hope.
Poverty opens an evil abyss annihilating unwary folk.
The two highways of the world shall gracefully merge one day.
Cultural diversity heartily stamps its mark upon birch bark.
Women in the world release the magnetic borders relished upon them.
Shanty towns whisper day and night accomodating a flawed feature upon Mother Earth.
Disease pulsates with fiery fury striking like the rabid fox.
Charlatans fuse labour with an acrid agony on a medley of children, while other children are in a general state of valued freedom.
Foreign aid revives the breath of the sketchy countries.
Education similar to the great author pampers citizens with a tribute to knowledge.
Charity provides an illumination of relief to sketchy countries.
The world debt is not in inertia.
It erects an envoy to retrieve fertile funds.
Headlong he ran into me
scorched with greed
he grabbed, he pulled
he stole my damn purse!!!
I don't know what is worse the beating he gave or my identity not saved.
Wider now is my mistrust
I hurt, I cried
both side by side.
A porcelain doll walking down the street,
a hungry face ready to meet...
the grocery store.
I never got the chance
he struck like the devil's lance.
"Curse his dark soul!!!"
Lace, white linen, sheets, and soft murmurings
White clad people playing peek-a-boo and hide-and-seek.
Can't pretend these are childhood games
I should have known better
the pillow getting wetter.
Nice and neat and so very full of sunlight in this wonderful, colourful garden.
is it real? Am I real?
Why can't I seem to communicate?
What is wrong with me?
Why am I in this garden with sunlight streaming everywhere?
Awake now, only it's not now it's later.
A thousand moons passed
Is it peace at last?
Vague memories of what happened
mostly hidden from eye of mind.
Topsy-turvy!!!
Trudging through anger, pain, and despair, my children saved me
called the ambulance, called the police.
Those dear men and women treated me like gold as they would their niece.
Gentle words and care
life support doted here and there.
One more stop along the way, my children's favourite day - their bank's deposit... my health, my life a just cause of it!!!
Looking over my shoulder I know you're there hiding somewhere.
Maybe I can't see you, but I can hear you.
No I don't want to wouldn't want to see you!
You rev and rile my nerves talking behind my back... whispering
Whispering who knows... what.
You walk around with an ego as big as a sequoia tree.
You're not all that!
My intuition tells me you have dark vibes with dark secrets holed up somewhere in your lurid labyrinth like mind.
Shadows unsettle me.
You unsettle me.
Looking over my shoulder I know you're there hiding somewhere.
Maybe I can't see you, but I can hear you.
No I don't want wouldn't want to see you!
You rev and rile my nerves!
In bed staring at the ceiling
watching a ladybug skitter
across.
Can she tell the difference I wonder
between her world and human society?
Is her mood unbroken?
Is her mind a full reasonable circle?
I wonder if size matters to her
as she rests her unbeating wings?
Turning my head looking at the snow globe
upon the dresser; unoccupied space inside.
Clashes of ambition rolling around inside my head.
What space do I occupy?
Time's confusing, saturated, drowned.
Many colored quarrels consume my sleep.
Pity on myself for talents I cannot use
like clover playing hop-scotch with sage.
Empty threats cross-legged on the floor
Quarrels push me over the edge.
Yelping, it's not a mistake.
Working overtime when my bones ache to be at home with the ones I love.
Co-workers in interstellar doubt
of my abilities like demented shattered glass in an ice storm.
Wasting away in the car, traffic's an ant colony elbowing and blasting vulgar language.
Is it better over there?
Or over there?
Dust blowing around the town
when all I want is freah crisp air.
Who sees me as a sensibilitist
or environmentalist?
I don't know.
My boy on the porch left for his baseball game.
Promised him I'd be there.
Can't even get there.
Damn this confusing traffic of my life!
Creeping along spreading my hands
watching sun-smitten roses sway
taking off their veils, smiling
ready to droop when frost settles in.
Fair? Who knows
but the living must sleep.
Thoughts...
Quarrels with mother
Quarrels with father
Quarrels with brother
Quarrels with sister
Quarrels with friend
Quarrels with lover
Quarrels with myself.
Home now
In bed staring at the ceiling
watching a ladybug skitter
across
eyes droopy
sandman's a comin'
the flame of quarrels extinguish at last!
The bloodstains on my hands
The pain in my brain
The world I live in
The people I meet
The colours, the feelings, and the emotions I experience
The sun, the moon, the stars, the planets, the clouds, the wind, the water, the ice, and the fire
The thoughts I hold near and far
The things I seek
The royal life I live
The things I have
Imitation
All of it!
You said you'd never abandon me but you did.
You abandoned me like a wretched witch of a mother abandons her child.
You abandoned me like the satisfied lion who had slain his prey, ate his prey, and left little of his prey to rot.
You are incapable of knowing how I feel.
You think why should you feel?
My mood since then has been dark, miserabele, and lonely.
You're like this sharp, black steel blade slicing through me; slicing through each piece of my flesh, my heart, and my soul.
My insides scream; scream with pain, and scream with disgust, for I have been betrayed.
And betrayal I feel.
Betrayal and abandonment knock on my door.
I don't care to open the door.
They smash through my door and there I stand alone and afraid like a coward.
What a coward I am.
What a fool.
Should throw them out but they're too powerful; this abandonment, this betrayal.
What hurts the most is I didn't deserve your cold, heartless, impulsive messengers at my door.
The hurt is there and it's consuming me alive.
I'm confused.
Confusion reigns in on its' horse of death with its' death mask.
Abandonment, betrayal - where am I?
What's happened?
What went wrong?
Why did you abandon me?
Is that your answer?
Your final answer?
Abandonment...
Yesterday I finished college but who was at my graduation?
Not Mom, not Dad, nor brother, nor sister.
Sounds like a bad false narration.
No one was there while I was wearin' my carnation.
Maybe only if 'twas a sad solemn cremation.
They should all be put on probation for a very long duration.
What were all those people thinking?
Had they all been off their rockers drinking?
I stood there all alone upon my graduation throne however, I felt like a precious stone.
A diamond in fact no matter the people and praise I lacked.
College
Yesterday I finished college but who was at my graduation?
I sit beneath the blackened sky with my arms wrapped around me often.
I wonder what the stars hold often.
I see butterflies secrets explode with great colour in the night sky often.
I hear the dedicated sounds of the night often.
I smell the lingering scents of the sleeping flowers often.
I taste the lonesome night air which tastes like sweet red wine often.
Often I wonder how content I am?
Bloodhounds of the deep tarnished night howl with sudden force.
Crimson fire scores the sky.
Anguished faces char in the air.
Shocking, disturbing, trees stand bare.
Zebullbian warlocks two; erected on marked land of poison.
Witch one hovers maliciously over a sacrificial tomb.
History, jealousy, mystery appear spicily claiming victims.
Not one thought of the consequences of the deathlords.
Intense bloodhounds keenly positioned at every exit.
Growing blackness, imprisoning death!
The cobwebs in my brain come to life again.
There is no secret haven of space
for the dark, lovely creatures give a wild chase.
They squeal and shriek
like a frothing mad shiek.
The large hairy bugs of night tell me things.
Things nobody should hear
for there is a vast amount of fear.
Arachnids sing and dance in my head.
I am so tormented I can no longer go to bed.
The evil things they say would make God stay far away.
Spiders tell me to kill and kill.
They want to watch blood spill and spill.
I look around in drawers and cupboards
but all I find is peanut butter.
Peanut butter you ask?
Yes, I put some under my coat in a large flask.
I walk silently up the stairs
without any real cares.
I open up the bedroom door
every so often a little more.
I watch you sleeping
with every move I am creeping.
Finally I reach the bed only to have to hold your damn head.
The tarantulas order me to smother you with the peanut butter as they watch with delight.
I can, I will, I can, I will
I have quite alot of might.
The brown goo goes over your face
while you drift up to space.
In October the buzz of Indian summer arrives
summoning primal senses
musty leaves, honking geese.
Under Harvest moon in delicious solitude, Fall's favourite fluffytail flushes out featured fruit with a fervor.
Pine is alert
Oak and maple yawn
trailing crackling leaves along the ground
living evidence of a rusty season
The weekend homecoming with steamed tea and coffee as opposed to iced.
Gathered 'round the treasured table in a cozy rustic inn during the first cold snap; we with our warm sweaters and stockings on, catch whiffs of cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg.
Blends of bounty and blessings with blazing firelight near, bedtime stories and candy corn for the cheerful children.
Cherished family
Cherished memories.
Wine and hunter hues of the season mingle
living, breathing gold of corn and wheat dance
burnt orange of pumpkins play.
A little horn blower dressed in sienna and cream blows the horn to welcome Thanksgiving in in our rustic inn while, the horn of plenty is tucked under the blower's arm.
Whiteness encases me
A cool morning drearily awakens
Pitter - patter of small animals on a bed of glistening snow
Snowy owls call of wishing to perform a show.
True crispness of air like that of fresh crisp hollies
An artic wolf's folly
At peace with nature.
Chilly cotton upon the branch of the dwarf birch
The branches are arms wanting to hold me
Subtle beauty everywhere I flee.
A cluster of crimson cranberries to enjoy with dinner, I see.
A mug of cocoa with a multitude of merry marshmallows, I shall fancy.
The mountains behind standing, stretching tall, wanting to whisper that my snow - day wishes may come true.
I held him in my arms
I felt his last breath
I felt his last movements
I felt his last heartbeat
I watched his spirit soar to heaven
I knew he was looking down on me
I knew he'd never leave me.
I could not help but to remember the joy he gave me
I could not help the memory overflow.
My tears slid down my cheek
My tears slid onto a white lily petal.
A small hand on my shoulder
A small kiss with hot breath on my cheek.
I turn my head and tears splash upon every white lily petal
A glimpse of a small spiritual being
For comfort
For love
For me, all for me!!!
Our tears branded on white lily petals
As laurels peer down on us.
Like the good-natured red rose loses its sweet scented petals to the content faced damsels of the light wind,
Like the dark grey storm clouds going into action, hurling bracelets of cool tear drop rain down to the awaiting anxious earth,
Like the destiny of the shade consuming the light,
Like the strong bold stars fall into suit and blast the charred sky with crowns of deserving light,
Like the jester of the breathing astronomy of night hails to the opposing demanding king of mortal day,
I too feel an overwhelming sense of loss!
I hold distraction in my mind, in my heart.
My feelings right now are wild but there is one that is tame and stands out.
It is the feeling of missing you!
