Sandy (1996-2010)

I would not forsake my love to escape the pain of death.

I don't want to learn to live without you in my life.

what to do when the full moon hides above? how best to scratch and prowl, for I still love the night? I dream, I dream. freedom roams inside my heart: outside, responsibility + fear. tonight, this night, under the cover of clouds, who knows? where other ventures fail -- perhaps, tonight?

No More Good Days

I wish we could have another day in the sun
Your ears back, dreaming of warm fields and cool water
I wish we could have another night under the moon
Your nose in the air, to wonder at the mystery

You are dying, and I meant to comfort you
You are dying, while I still have to live
Without your lion's mane and puppydog eyes
With out your fur, and without your friendship

I can't do anything but watch you die
I can touch, and cajole, and whisper
But my light can't heal your eyes
Nor my voice your ears
My love can't keep you alive

(mlkj)

A single word, emphatically said;

Like a bullet through the head;

Wonder if the soul has fled?

The dream remains though the brain is dead!

DeGrade

I have no people; indeed, no heritage.
I am the confused mix of history and chance
That leaves ancestral lands laid waste
And bares the emptiness of tradition.
I am the descendant of liars and thieves,
Of slavemongers, con-men, and whores --
I have no claims to divinity:
No Son of Heaven, or God, just man and mud.
I have no family homestead, no inheritance
Of attics, basements, or cemeteries;
Neither temples of grandmothers to pray to,
Nor churches sacred and fore sworn.
I do not lament this as a loss;
Yet never having, I have no respect.

Frayed

I have frayed these words thin
Worn-through apologies and angry tatters
The tongue aches to be revitalized
But ancient connotations blanket me in dust
And fade the fragments of expression
Across this fabric of language and thought

What jaws will rend the sound
Or cold wind freeze the naked form
What frost-white consumption of guilt
And pleasure will trade in metaphor and cajole
We will speak no more of lies and truth
At last, night, and the Quietude of silence

Variations On The Flame

* * * * *

and in this dream
words flow smoothly to paper
sweet and cruel, sorrowful and True
Ink, black -- under scrutiny, shifting
and still I write as the lines
blaze, first small,
more shine than Fire
Then smoke, and the page combusts
falling, igniting table and cloth
and phrases lay by rows
drying, coruscating, Burning
a house enflames, drawn to ash
I breath dust, and heat, words
the world becomes a bon-fire,
and I,
The Crucible of Transformation

* * * * *

My words Burn
They are Ruby and Shameless
Scorching the very hand that writes
My world Burns
Engulfed in flame and heartache
Scarlet letters that love betrays

* * * * *

The Writing is Red
Like Blood of Flame
Burning, Flowing --
It engulfs the Wrold
Like Rain or Sunshine
Cohesive, Growing

Alone

I feel more alone in crowded streets
(alone cannot be more or less)
I feel more connected when I'm alone

The Keys

Do I build impossible places
To dream and to behold?
Can these improbable people be
To love and understand?
Does this Thought define the Truth
of being one and none and Free?

Never Forget

I live like you are dead
At our every parting
And live like you are dying
When we are near
To never forget our love, my love

Conversation

... I see a different value to conversation, since you are not here -- I gain enlightenment about why some people visit the grave markers of their dead. I don't want to lose this habit of talking to you, of keeping your mind close to mine. By continuing my side of our discussions, I can still hear your reply, in my mind, and I can see how your lips form the words and how you cock your eyebrow for emphasis and let it drop -- all the things that make conversation with you interesting. And by doing this, talking to you, even though you aren't here, creating your replies in my mind, you still have the power to change me, to affect my decisions and my attitudes, to guide and love and laugh with me ...

"Goodnight Kiss"

I could not go to sleep tonight
Without telling you goodnight
Without that kiss upon your wolfily lips
Without your warmth beside me
So I do not sleep, but meditate
That distance holds no meter
That every thought has heart-shaped wings
That there is no warmth but yours
no perception of You and Me

think-tank

I would bring together ten-thousand women
And men
To stillness
Approaching the Nothing Divine
To think not ofthe differences between us
But Oneness
No think-tank
But a thoughtless void
Of Creation

I kept hearing you say

I kept hearing you say
goodbye today
while I was far away
and busy with things
That seem, now,
inconsequential.
I have held back tears
all day today
out of love and
worry, wondering
If you are still alive.
For I still long to
travel with you
on the lakes and rivers
through misty mornings to the sea
To live with you in deep
forests and sunny meadows
You are my partner, and
the man I Love --

"All the words I speak are false,
And all the words I write."

Nothing

Only nothing can change us, everything else has only the power granted by our minds. Thus, only by embracing nothing can we be killed and everything else is granted the power of death (of being able to kill) by the mind. Mind only is required to keep matter in motion, and (as matter provides space for mind to move) no matter can cause mind to cease, or still. The ability to still to nothing, to cease, is only within the mind. So if we are nothing, filled with nothing, have become one with nothing, then everything else is harmless and ineffectual. By this virtue, we are stars -- radiating all shades of pure light, making this energy available to all in need of sustenence, accepting the illusion of food and medicine to teach, to illuminate the Truth.

It is not blackness
We face,
My Lord and I,
But Nothing.

This Evening

In this eveningI have learned
From you, your wandering hands
And eyes of tanzanite intensity
From your rough whispers and
Coarse moustach, your gentle wolf-licks
On my neck and on my mouth of wine
On nipples pierced with steel and diamonds
With some drink, sipped, and
With this pipe, smoked, and
With you, into this night
To learn of love and joy

All the things you can think
Are nameable
Save One
It is the nameless one, unthinkable,
That defines the others
It is the only thing that can be
Adequately compared by two people
Because all the thoughts are your own
Interpreted by your mind, your experience
But we all define things with no-things
we know thoughts by thoughtlessness
by no thought
by that Unnamable One
It is the one that we all can truly share
that needs no interpretation,
that debating does not change,
that analysis cannot enlighten

How Many Live

How many lives
Have I destroyed
To be the man I am
Too many
Too many
I cry and wail and gnash
Too much blood it seems
Stains hands and clothes
And I
I
Am still alone

seperate

You know
There are times
I hate to have to be
Seperate
And
Alone
To see these things
To make new patterns
Occur
And
I
Am blessed and lucky
That I have been
With
You

All my life

All my life I have lived it seems
in fear in jealousy and spite
in nameless abject terror
of all the things I cannot ever
do or be or have
it is a pining of my soul
It is not enough

If all the world has turned to dust

If all the world has turned to dust

And shadows

And all life seems black and darkness

is the absence of
Love

-- It is the breathless sound --

When time has turned to stone
Eternity
And serenity colliding and gold

is the color of
Love

-- It is the sound --

In the emptiness, in the quiet room
The heart
Where everything is small and gravity
is the allure of
Love

-- It is --

my lord
these things are not for me
except as dreams and dust
the angles of this sunrise
and the glory of today
are mine, but still to share
my lord

It is this moment

It is this Moment
To live, not dream, no hope
Required
It is this Time
To be, not think, no wants
Fulfilled
It is this Life
To have, not own, no death
Created