photographers – Back to the Monastery

we wait at the window
of yesterday’s pain
knowing full well
it won’t open again

living
on slivers of hope

slivers that fade
with the passing of seasons

a chair
you can no longer
sit in

to ponder the mysteries
to ferret out reasons

to things you may
have missed

in a time that
does not exist

today i need quiet
and u echo in my brain

i do not what
echoes

that is my
refrain

I am seeking
quiet

peace is
what I seek

i lay my head
on thy sweet bed

I pray thee
do not speak

she was thirty six
I was twenty five
never thought
I’d get
out of that alive

there r times I
wonder

if i did

maybe not

November sky

everything went south
yesterday
when I was sleeping
words entered my mouth
of their own accord
richly mellifluous words
that I could not afford
I am not by nature
a guy that talks a lot
voluble, garrulous?
loquacious ? I think not
and yet
my mouth was full
so full, I could hardly speak
as time began to lapse
my mouth began to leak
single letters at first
a P for please, a Q for quiet
a B for boy, a W for willow
began forming random
droolings
there upon my pillow
I became concerned
I let go a shout
when a vowel team syllable
somehow came marching out
this was my first clue
that things were going
south
that was my first clue
that I best shut my
mouth

somewhere

there is a star

that burns 4 u

I build barricades
around my heart
to make it tough
to get inside

and if these constructs
ever part
it is to let you
come and hide

you can have
the right ventricle
I’ve reserved it
just for you

but if the left
is to your liking
well,
that is open too

i thought i was painting
a picture of you
something i always
wanted to do

wanted or compelled?
I’m not really sure
but something propelled
me through that door

I cannot question
when it comes to you
I seek mercy,
understanding
for the things
that I do
I cannot question
when it comes to you
my heart just lets go
as you come shining through

painting with words
painting with sound
trying to show
the beauty I’ve found

but I never truly
can paint the real you
an impossible task
I set out to do

I cannot question
when it comes to you
I seek mercy,
understanding
for the things
that I do
I cannot question
when it comes to you
my heart just lets go
as you come shining through

you could always be sure
an exhalation of breath
on the perimeter of pure
the coldness of death

stone
marker
where
remnants lie
life returns
to those
who die

in forms unseen
in memories missed
thoughts unclean
lips unkissed

weekend detritus

Thanks George! 🙂