A stolen time


Under the lamp post, across the street, so close and far away.

Nowhere is safe, and suspicion can leave toxic marks under the skin.

Fingertips bleed with wanting the space to be shared.

Encased in a deep breath, terrified to let it go, it will disappear.

Tears choke up inside, causing the falling of faith.

No answers at present, but allowed to stop for a moment.

It was just a stolen moment.

Exist, the Shadows

There is a shadow of myself; it plays in the wind, dances in the sun, and dreams of heaven on earth. It will stand the test of all time, with the storms and rainbows that enter our space.
It will seek completion and hold out its hand to enter the world.
Unable to separate the dark from the light, no obstacles stand between reality and fantasy. Enter the shadow of parallel proportion.
Instant attraction and consummation take the shadow of souls to a beginning. In the race of fulfillment, the clouds come and go, the rain dances in and out, and the shadows breathe as one.
Enter into intermission.
A vow already written by the shelter allows a union and the shadows are released to exist as one.

Trying To Escape

When the doors open,
Open to Darkness
Open to Emptiness
Open to Sadness
Open to a Storm
Open to Nothingness

Where Is Your Monkey Man?

Here and there you will see the shadows of the monkey man, strange but true.
So why do I laugh so hard at the thoughts of a stoned monkey man? Not a nightmare, nor a dream, but the thoughts of crazy, unleashed foolishness, and the laughter of a young time. It does not cure but stands out alone, as a medicine of the years, erasing the aged wears of responsibility.
So in the shadows, there is a stoned monkey man, because it makes us laugh at the absurd and trifle moments of true self. The world will not make sense; we can try, and we will try very hard. You just cannot continue without the sound of hysterical laughter aimed at the strange and very meaningless thoughts of a stoned monkey man. Twisted? Maybe! But when you find your funny thoughts and they make you smile over and over again, do not let them go!

I Still have a Name

I saw the eyes of hell and still stand to tell about it
I walked the path to nowhere and still know where I am
I spoke my peace and still have more to say
I lived another life and still find one here
I cried for peace and still weep for more
I sleep exposed to the elements and still wake in the streets
I beg so I will eat and still will not be full
I dress to be warm and still feel the cold
I hide from stares and still am judged
I am homeless and still I have a name

Give me the person

Give me the strength to carry myself
to be the person I hope to be.
Give me grace to present myself
to be the person they all see.
Give me the patience to heal myself
to be the person that is me.

My guardian angel smokes a pipe

It makes me smile when I think of an angel smoking a pipe, others would most likely think of it as odd. It is one of life’s ironic gifts that has been bestowed upon me. I will look to my angel for guidance for this is the only one I have.
No other angel will compare and I was destined for this one, no matter if the advice is laced with wisdom or truths you wish not to hear.

You wouldn't expect to find wings on a scruffy man, with a full beard, long hair, glasses, and a pipe. He could pass for the stereotypical homeless man; a man who does not shave, seldom cleans, and starts his day with a dose of alcohol of his choice. Not so much the angel type but the peace of having any angel brings such comfort when life just does not make much sense.
He always has a sense of humor even when he is sad. Will always give when he has nothing for himself. He is always true to who he is, even if that happens not to fit into a society too well.

So, my guardian angel smokes a pipe, wears blue jeans, drinks too much, and does not smell all that great either; but I am happy he is mine.
It sums up how my life goes, and gives me more of an understanding of where I am and where I have been. It resembles the holes I have dug, jumped into, and had to climb out of, on my own.
One of those moments of clarity, the advice of my angel “You can do anything you put your mind to” rings true inside of me and allows me to go on with a little more strength each day.

Destiny War

I have not been to war
But the machine guns in my head ruin my thoughts
Woven in silk; I have a destiny
A web of directions I chose to take
I do accept the fact it is mine
No one can strip this from me
tears do not change my destiny
It has all been written with fate
The battle wades through my days
Win or lose, the power is within me
But if the fight is mine then my destiny stays
This plays out in time and space
Calling for a break in moments shall not be
Time will not give mercy to catch up
It is time to stand and ride through destiny
Own the moments and hold on tight

You Left Me Alone

Grief tangles around, entering at will and without warning.
Strength deserts me in the most inopportune times.
Power drains from my entire being, leaving me alone.
Sadness sweeps in surrounding shadows encasing me.

Nothing At All

Maybe it is nothing at all
The smile that takes my day to brighter skies.
Maybe it is nothing at all.
The ache inside my chest that pains for your presence
Maybe it is nothing at all
The stars in my eyes as I let myself dream
Maybe it is nothing at all.
The wind that sweeps me up with your kisses
Maybe it is nothing at all
The sun that heats my body with your touch
Maybe it is nothing at all
The earth that moves when I see in your eyes
Maybe it is nothing at all
The touch of your hands that make me tingle
Maybe it is nothing at all
The sigh that lifts me into your embrace
Maybe it is nothing at all
Just maybe

originally published 2010

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