Sight of Sea

A purple haze engulfed my ache,
A mistress so in-tune,
My lady bore my weight and wake,
Guided by fluorescent moon.

A shift and stir, from side to side,
And rolling underneath,
Her sweet embrace is gentle tide
Her whispers, just beneath.

Washed upon the solid ground,
I feel a calming breeze,
Despite the earth to which I'm bound,
She puts my mind to ease.

Thrown from ship, I've seen the sea,
And she has seen no less of me.

Heroic Self

Forget the first and last you've seen of life,
White-washed canvas hides the horror of strife,
Jaded visions cloud the mind, blind the eyes,
Beget the anguish, the darkest lies.

Use the eyes to look outside, view the curse,
Avoid hostile, selfish, and the perverse,
For they are out to kill the ones who stand,
Tall above the rest, heads above the sand.

Within the mind your hidden conscience dwells,
Seek it, lift it, delivered from the hells.

Friend or Foe

Now that I have left my place,
Ventured into distant lands,
Disappeared without a trace,
Swallowed by the empty sands.

I find myself quite happy here,
A here so far from there,
But when old ghosts begin to near,
I find myself quite short of air.

Friends of old are foes reborn,
And so they have their place,
Ever hidden, scorn and thorn,
And yet they seem to know my face.

Sun Kissed

With opened eyes for break of dawn,
I rise from bed and stifle yawn,
To step outdoors and feel the wind,
I step outside my home, to tend.

Aching hands push spinning blades,
That kick up dirt beneath the shade,
Reduce the world to itching mist,
I wipe my brow and breathe, sun-kissed.

Half-truths

Line after line that mock the old art,
Thrusting, ripping, and tearing apart,
Beautiful words that flow with such ease,
Sweet, savored phrases that come from the heart.

Word after word appears only a tease,
Defiling meanings, shown only to please,
Not written with love, they pour down the page,
Stifle the poet and drip with disease.

Letters, oh letters, from such an old age,
Gracing the poet, transform him to sage,
Yet meaning so less when they lack proper feel,
They condemn his actions, becoming his cage.

This poet has learned not to write, but to kneel,
Received in the bosom of only things real.

Clearcutting

Let indecision end today,
A towering stone stonewalled the path,
For day daylight, there's no delay.

Though loves break and away sway,
Past the block blockade, a bypath,
Let indecision end today.

Begin anew, new life assay,
Forget the old dark darkroom wrath,
For day daylight, there's no delay.

Forget dead deadwood in the way,
Block out outright the barb and gath,
Let indecision end today.

Feel not now as praying prey,
Stand strong and tall, forestall warpath
For day daylight, there's no delay.

Clear clearcut of grey decay,
The soil assoils for lattermath,
Let indecision end today,
For day daylight, there's no delay.