Waiting’s Close Lover When –

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.”  – Rainer Maria Rilke
“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.” – Paulo Coelho
Dressing myself with Waiting’s robes
looking in the mirror at When
Finding thoughts that without warning
haunt and scare my lonely Then
Question the mistress Waiting, again
to the end of never, When?
Waiting she dances, holding me close
and calling her lover Then
Her music of chance and sultry moves
under the covers of patient When
A cruel lover Waiting plays with me
as I grow old with desire Then
Teasing from me my passing youth
called Waiting’s close lover When
First Published in Opinions of Eye
01182013

The Laughter

“If we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane.” ― Robert Frost
 

kirk-landkills

When she laughed the sound filled the rooms, spilling over into the breeze and bringing a thousand butterflies to life. I’ve heard no sound like it before, it comes from her soul, places unseen in the spirit of gentleness. Her laugh sang a lullaby that dismissed my fears and loneliness. For a moment in time, I forgot the tragedy of living and remembered the beauty of life. Of all the sounds that echo in my mind, consuming my conscience like rain on a tin roof, her laugh is my mantra of peace. I’m amazed that such joy and wholehearted happiness can exist at all, in my life not so much as a faint chuckle is heard, much less the verbal deep seated happiness of a healthy giggle. It spills over from her full cup and I wipe it up with every fiber of my being, it stains my soul with colors like a tie dyed shirt from the 60’s. I know many sounds fade, more now that I’m older, but her laugh, this I need like sunrise everyday, warming and encouraging, bringing the hope of spring and it’s little births. I curled up deeper in the covers, and a smile crept over my face, all while she laughed.

Clash – Fighting’s end

“Be calm in arguing; for fierceness makes error a fault, and truth discourtesy.” 

Laying down arms in this battle of wills
I relinquish my slowly ebbing joy.


Gathering the scattered detritus of battles 
long fought in ephemeral evenings light.

Closing the books on tired exercises of futility 
leaving blank covers to sleep alone.

Nothing left beyond the zero total of wasted 
love and hope in an eternities time.

Heartbreaking this clash of hell bent souls 
losing all to make their own way.