The Dead

I’m dead.  That part of me was buried by the final words

shoveling on my chest.  I’m dead.  With the last drenched sight

of your pale form swaying in my mind.  I’m dead.  Cross-armed

in my grave steadily consuming the grave-diggers mounting dirt.

Shivering sheets like ice scathing

away my trampled heart, starting

to mumble your name, drained

of life’s vorpal grip, slipped

into that murky abyss, last kiss

to the dark as I tumble into the ground.

Don’t ever wonder if the dead ever love,

since that idea is the only thing that will never die.

Dream Cycle

I’m stirred by the hooves of a cold wind while flecks of snow

flutter across my window in the sunlight.

I’m perched on a wooden bridge in the mist of rainfall watching

the creak below waiting for someone.

I’m stepping under cherry blossoms flickering like tiny flames

watching so we avoid the potholes.

I’m shook by an icy gust while the milky moon drips onto the

purple nothingness sprinkled with fading stars.

Air Balloon

The string dances between my fingers, rattling like an angry snake

waiting for me to let go, go high that heart shaped ship extending its

sails hoping to catch wind, when will the pink sunrise peek east I’ve

been waiting so long, long fields of effortless daisies shivering with

nights eerie gust, trust open door smiles and soft words even if my

body is too exhausted from overwork, work thought bubbles like

empty pictures that need filling, fretting storm clouds clapping and

covering the shy stars, stars leak lightening sparking symbols of

frowns and x’s and o’s, suppose this balloon does fly high I’ll then

finally set myself free, free ferries skidding above ooze oceans

carrying old familiar faces, places with bikini’s and blue umbrellas

filling my empty sky, sky whirling with ignorant grey clouds that

suck up the quiet balloon, I swipe at the string as it waves goodbye

with her red velvet lips, my lips mouth a requiem for the dead love

lying at my feet, little did I know the hole was already there.

How to Disarm a Bomb

I never learned how to disarm a bomb

calm steady hands picking sensitive spots in the heart

start from the first moments of the piercing smile

while treading the distance with a stern gaze

praising the quiet beauty patiently batting words,

locks of sunlight waving hesitantly, cut

rain clouds hovering over green moons, cut

red rope lips quivering like a tornado, cut

anxiety ominously clinging to her back,

fear makes my hand tremble as it sinks deeper

into the hallow cavern echoing doubts

and pressure from lack of air

staring into the blinking abyss

wondering what image

is staring back at me.

For Those You Love

They’ll say sing love silently in your sleep,

but it billows out like puffs of smoke from your chest.

They’ll say sweet words lead to sharp steeps,

but life’s a high bridge that’ll shake just for a test.

I cherish all the moments of our past,

if love is an illusion,

it’s the most real with you ,

so I hope it lasts.

My Invisible friend

A surface smile with a depth of shadows like a bottomless ocean,

umbrella sunrise of rosy pink cheeks,

peek through cascading moonlights like white shades,

shiver under a blanket full of holes,

waiting for the tides to come in.

The New

Appears like a biting wind on a warm cheek,

whispering questions that have drifted with the dead petals

floating carelessly into the stifling waves of time,

counting days by the rising and falling of the moon,

murmuring poetic verses to the sky

watching the puffs of your breath swirling into old images,

novels stick to your fingers like dirt

can’t wash away the tainted crimes of fake heroes,

a cracked smile bends with the sunlight,

brisk winter breeze billows onto your chest,

few streaks of clouds form a halo around the town,

outside stretching arms fingers attempting to touch

the golden strands of the new dawn,

but they’re just out of reach.

Suck in that crisp air,

And stare onto the horizon slowly revealing itself,

It’s time for a new slate to start.