the come back

gaze upon this ghost of a man
once gathered by the wind
now he would come back to you
admitting that he had sinned

fallen from the balcony
of tainted tattered grace
approaching with each glance of you
shying from your face

permit me as i come again
to speak your holy name
within me please rekindle
that ever burning flame

small thoughts

maybe everyone speaks in riddles
or twists their tougues into half-truths
observing every utterance
polishing every phrase

were words all human and living breathing things
would they speak so with abruptly lifted wings

truth be told, they say it ain't so
approaching the well of what i can deny
casting in my coin
tossing in a wish

and these thoughts join a humble hearted plea
possibly your thoughts will return once to me.

the absurd metaphor

question why
a stroke of fiery blue
and the shard
in my decomposing angel
sings the song no man knows...

in this empty world colored green
silhouettes & cigarettes
smear dry black ink
on my imagination

through shimmer & glass
they hear me ask
can we suffer more grace?

captured to be free
an icon monument
a beauty form
and concrete aesthetic of
vivid metal passion

hard, rigid dream
covered with a white dust film
carved by an angry chisel
that never gives up

innoculated am I
from the innocence past
resurrected by water
delicately poured over my face

cleansed, created, new.

circumference of truth

Gone are the days of yesterdays and tomorrows
soft speaking whispers of dreams and visions
erecting gabled windows to heaven's brilliant sun.
Persisting, ever-constant oddities
and the forceful gentle breeze
keep burdening me into solitude
and brave lamenting pleas.

Scepter of truth lay at hand...
a rod of discipline & promise,
and the pungent incense that flowers bring
into an altar that heaven made.
And stars ignite the sacrifice
of our pompous precious pride
illuminating circumstance
of happless self denied.

the shadows of valor

what pretty little blackness
who tramples yesterday's flowers
or considers lightly
evening's ambient glow
they must vanish dimly into twilight
that empty amber box
while the street and thorn
again in harmony
with two fireflies blazing under glass

yet i too must run away
valiantly stepping into this good night