En Garde

Guarded, yes.

And oh I know it.

Such tragic state

for lonely Poet.

They say "Relax!"

"Go with the flow!"

"We all have pain..."

and that I know.

But open vein

no blood will flow.

I can not even

wet my eye.

I fear that I

am dry.

Saddened, yes.

Though shall not show it.

Such tragic state

for lonely poet.

My head is up

but heart is down.

My dreams they hide

deep underground.

While vultures fly

above my head.

Like words I wish

I'd never said.

From eyes I wish

had never saw.

It was not Love

there afterall.

Fearful yes.

And I may blow it.

Such tragic state

for lonely Poet.

I hope 'gainst hopes

one proves me wrong.

But then they never

stay that long.

Restless

In too large bed. 

In dream like throes.

Cut off the thought

like Heathcliffe's nose.

What makes no sense

can cause me harm.

To wake with tears

and such alarm.

The wounds.

The wounds.

The wounds are deep.

In fractured hope

and trust; belief

that giving good

begets the same.

Although to some

I was a game.

In dreams I see

a picture show

of things I bury

hide and stow

in waking hour.

I have the power

to banish past

at will.

Still screaming shrill

inside my brain.

Inside my bed.

Aside my pain.

It matters naught

for now I'm wise.

All faith was bled

with compromise.

Liberation

I’m free

I’m free!

My mind can be

the lovely place

it used to be.

Before I thought

that I could heal

the wounds of those

who cannot feel.

I’m free

I’m free!

My heart can be

the loving place

it used to be.

Before I learned

that some will rape

your sense of faith

‘till you escape.

I’m free

I’m free!

My soul can be

the lighter place

it used to be.

It’s joy I craft.

I laugh and laugh

All morning, noon and night.

I’m free

I’m free!

My flesh can be

the lusty place

it used to be.

To dip and dive

to feel alive

inside a sweet embrace.

I’m free.

I’m free.

My life can be

the happy place

it used to be.

To learn and grow

not say, but show…

I’m free!

I’m free!

I’m free…

Caro Mio

Oh faster Caro fly!

To soft white bed and lie

beside me for the days

without you have been long.

My heart it sings a song

of joy and sweet elation

to know no trepidation

falling in your arms right soon.

The stars and brilliant moon
sing the sweetest lullaby
if I ponder long, I'll cry
for the wanting of your lips.

My heart it leaps in time.
Old ghosts no longer haunt me

whilst an angel here who wants me

pulls me close and to his side.

On faster wings my darling

let the magpie and the starling

bring your warm and faithful breath

and your endless sweet caress.

The Daughters Lesson

You scold me.

You told me and sold me

a truth you won't live.

You told me to give

metered trust in return.

Heart broken I burn

for exposing my throat.

And the endings that wrote

themselves 'gainst our will

danced limping to shrill

song of pain and of scorn

to the worn and the torn

woman's heart that shall hide

disappointment inside.

You are crying.

Always striving never drying

your tears 'gainst a shoulder

of someone who loves you.

Yet you want me to believe?

You want me to conceive of

happy ending, ascending, befriending

new men like trying on shoes

then see me lose each time abused

for trust misused and lust confused.

I think you have taught me

never meaning but in leaning

to run far in life 

from the sentence of wife.

For it CAN happen twice.

The Hidden Verse

Your mouth is placed.

There’s no mistake.

You find me cute.

I’m resolute

To circumvent

all mal intent.

I thought I’d spent

my heart.

My dear you take

it all apart.

inside my head.

Inside my bed.

I’m yours!

I’m yours!

I want to scream

But like a dream

I'd hate to wake

 up wrong.

I’ve waited long

for brilliant mind.

For heart that’s kind;

or one who'd find
me diamond rough.

There's more to me

than acting tough.

Conceals for start

a sweeter heart

quite torn apart

by circumstance

and bad romance.

And if by chance

you stay?

I'd warm you

in a perfect way

that never

leaves you cold.

xXx

Social Medea

What do you want?

Haunt, flaunt

taunt and saunter your ass

over here and spill it all my dear.

You know me?

Show me

throw me a concept

I won't reject

'cause I connect

with folks like

you all day.

And all I say

is consumption.

Presumption the function

of consequence of

life lived in open source,

of course you're going to deny

that I bleed and cry

that I have moments of real

humanity; insanity to think for

a second that I feel because

what is real is on my Facebook

Twitter, Plurk and blog which

clog my day with sharing self

with hundreds or thousands of

people who rubberneck my life.

As though it was worth the spotlight?

All night I fight the fright and urge

to shut down, shut out, pull in and shout

that my life is not up for comparison shopping

name dropping and the kind of arrogance that

comes with twenty first century digital celebrity.

The brevity and levity of it is that I have

done it to myself.

I contemplate there's no mistake that I relate

to pixels and short prose to spite my throes

my insular shows in journalistic blows

and snapshots from a life that strays

that stays and plays out like something of a

history of mystery to me.

Perhaps one day I'll be.