Sunday, July 10, 2016


You gave me happy days
As though I stole them
You took them away
Eroded trust
Erodes to rust
And finally dust
You gave me poetry for pain
It is in vain
No way to explain
My drop of rain
You cannot steal yourself

Saturday, June 4, 2016

No Dear Muse...

There was a time when I followed after the muse but she was a ghost. She took many forms. Once she took the form of a butterfly and brushed her wings against my hand as she flew by.
Up she flew out of sight calling me upwards and so I went.
I chased and chased and she denied me and the more I pursued the more lost I became.
Inspiration turned to desperation and bitterness and so I turned away.
My spirit broke under the weight of her thrall, from which there is no recovery. Just like a dam that breaks at the bottom and caves in on itself, that was the crush of my spirit.
The weight of her influence I will never entertain again.
My inspiration needed no ascension. My inspiration lives in the realms above.
I simply allowed her to dance with my inspiration like a leaf falling from a tree.
No dear is you that must ascend...I am the sky you dance beneath.