

the walkthe walkthe walk
In the dusk, the wind picks up. The sun hunkers, behind the buildings. Everything begins to darken, and the colors fade. The shapes all blend, to create unreadable patterns.
The shadows knit, new worlds in the dark. With no beginning, or no ending.
For a moment, before the lights, the world is new, and strange.


656565
65
at 2am and the fog is heavy.
clamped down hard on the steering wheel so it can't float away
with me attached into the night into the dark.
and we are so light that I could blow away with a whisper
into the vastness
that my mind can only achieve
on the other side of 2am at 65.


untitled poem IIIuntitleduntitled poem III
I am waiting.
I am waiting for you. I do not know you yet. Or if I do I am unaware of your intentions.
I am impatient. I am trying hard not to be. Somehow, I know you are there. I can feel you pulling me.
I am hoping you are waiting. I am hoping you feel me too, Will you be patient and wait for me? I will try my hardest to reveal my intentions.
Until then,,,
I will wait,,,,
And keep on waiting...


untitled poem IIUntitleduntitled poem II
Sometimes I feel the wind blow through me. It is as bitter and cold as me.
It's origins are a desolate place. A land of endless ice and snow.
Beautiful in it's melancholy perfection, with nary a footprint for miles.
A place all my own, where only few have tread.


SpiralThis burning inside twists and spirals As I look at how far Ive fallen The bitterness and rage takes holdSpiral
The wind tears through my mind I hold my limbs close to myself But only fall faster into the dark
My past is hideous and dark Like actions of this downward spiral I no longer know myself I just know how far Ive fallen For answers I search my mind Nothing of wisdom takes hold
I extend my hand in the air to hold But in my hand I see nothing, just dark Knowing this rages me and rips through mind And I only continue through thi
--
We love Him because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19
Previous PageNext Page