letters

Posted on by

you wake to find them covering your skin

silent

pungent

among the fantasies that envelop your dreams

opulent

sensual

life sustaining

                symbols

                        of

                           light

among

      the

          darkness

pregnant desires hidden among endless

enunciations

clinging

breast feeding from the marrow

of the truths you hide from yourself

in the joy you share

in the love you keep alive

clinging

to the tattered memories you refuse to abandon

to the hopes that power your waking hours

hitch-hikers along the highway

stowaways in your life travels

for without you

they are not

but stains upon your skin

i wish to die

Posted on by

i wish to die

remembering the clear waters
that drenched my soul
still feeling the horizons
stretched out against
my limbs
i wish to die with my lips wet
from the dew drops on your
lashes
with my heart pumping
with emotion from the
the laughter i still feel
smiling
i wish to die smiling
for what is life if we approach
its end with sadness
little more than time
between regrets
i wish to die smiling
and as i close my eyes
remember the softness
of your lips.
smiling
with my only regret
being never having
one to keep me from
wandering
i wish to die in love
in love with the life that ends
and the infinite moments
i shared with you in living
in loving, in falling
in looking always to life
itself for the gift it offers
i wish to die
without wishing
i had lived

hope must die

Posted on by
hope should not be the last to die.
hope should not be our last recourse.
hope is a liar
it teases us with what could be
telling us what we wish to hear
knowing well there is no more than what we see.
Hope is the jackal that prowls in the night
it is our nightmares
those from which even vultures take flight.
hope is a traitor
luring us into submission
only to deliver us whole
into our enemies vision.
hope is deaf
it refuses to hear us
hope is blind
and yet we follow it
as though our guide.
hope is futile, merciless,
hope is without reason,
without logic.
hope is an atheist
there is no after life for hope
there is no second chance
no redemption, no resurrection
hope is dead, and there is no-one
left to mourn it
hope should not be the last to die.
we must discard hope in favor of life.
demand from life that which we have
without any other recourse
given over to hope.
that one day we give not a single prayer to hope.
that we live the lives we have assigned to hope.
that one day hope is no longer an option.
this, we can only
hope

i am grateful

Posted on by

I am grateful for words

The letters they feel,

I am grateful for songs

And the feelings they steal

I am grateful for friends

The laughter that we share

I am grateful for enemies

For they keep me aware

For songs that make me

dance

and those that make me cry

for unending smiles

embraces, 

caresses in darkness,

for touch, for passion

I am grateful for love

even unrequited.

I am grateful for lust,

temptation uninvited

For cold winter mornings

And freshly grown ice

For storm clouds in springtime

I am grateful for lies

For hot summer evenings

And sweat on my brow

I am grateful for yearnings

I am grateful for now

I am grateful of thunder

That made me once tremble

I am grateful for fear

While fearful and grateful

I will too admit

I am grateful for beer

I am grateful for sunrise

I am grateful for trust

I am grateful for tears

As they burn in my eyes

I am grateful for beauty, 

For wonder,

For truth.

Above all my sweet

I am grateful,

I am grateful for you

Tunnel Entrance

Posted on by

The tunnels connect the villages along the fjords. They are a lifeline. Before they were built people were isolated when bad weather hit. They either had to trek over the mountain, or get to the next village by boat if the sea permitted.20160311-_GVR1099-Edit

excerpt – The Opossum and The Moon

Posted on by
“Do I not give you stories Moon? Do my stories not feed the Sun as do the stories of others?”.
“I stay the longest with you Opossum, to gather your stories, to breathe them in, to feed my soul, but I must search for others in the night”.
As opossum’s eyes turned sad Moon said “for you see Opossum, your stories, I keep to myself, they feed my soul, and all the rest I leave for Sun, for they matter not to me”.