Naissance of The New

It is almost
always
the fireworks
and illumination,
champagne pops
and jubilation
that signal the naissance
of a new year.

But may a quieter light
find you
this year;
like a gentle beam of sun
warming
through the windows
A sunrise here to stay,
not fleeting fireworks
barely passing over shadows.

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Adagio

Every battle
turns war.

Like an interlude
rising into chorus.

Swords moving through the silhouettes,
and the vital red
falls
to the floor

Just like that minor chord
that makes the score.

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The Exodus of Sorrow

I think it’s beautiful
that you cry.

When all unravels,
it is your Soul
that speaks
in elements.

To Earth, She calls
when you fall
to the floor.
One hand on the terra,
one hand on your heart—
a reunion of friends
that have been kept apart. View Post

Forgiveness

Silence.
Stillness.
Peace.
Fulfillness.

Watching
the quiet roads.
Watching the clouds
cry to the earth
in despair. View Post

A Testament of Us

“I love you.”
Three
simple words.
Two
simple people.

Stripped down and bare
like two souls getting in touch.

We could make it extravagant.
Florid and voluptuous of words.
But we leave it a testament
of us.

Like birds
in a bucolic setting.
Like the crisp breeze
in a country dwelling.
Rare, and simple, and natural.
Bare, and simple, and factual. View Post

Austere

Not beautiful.
Not “aesthetic”.
Not wonderful.

No exquisite epiphany.
No great thoughtful story.

Just simple
broken
life.

An image
of ordinary strife. View Post

The Man Out of Time

I decide everyday
that I won’t write about you today.

That I won’t drop what I’m doing
to watch you walk past me,

that I won’t stop to listen
when you speak to all but me.

Yes, I decide everyday
that I won’t be so obsessive. View Post

Love Remains A Question

Love
remains a question.

Its meaning.
Its virtue.

Its essence—
an illusion.

Unanswered
through the ages,

yet legislated
in poems. View Post

Le Ciel Teinté en Amour

Le coucher du soleil
par-delà les montagnes,
sa beauté,
sa doré,
et le ciel teinté
en amour
du soleil.

Et l’amour du soleil
est le ciel brun-doré.
La couleur du soir
lorsqu’il part l’azuré.

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The Moon Hath Not Returned

I look up
as the night
is laced through
the long fingers of the forest.

They reach up
and caress the stars.

There are the gushes
and gleams
of joy.

The merrymaking
of love
in nature.

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Captive of Love

With you,
loyalty is destiny.

An instinct
I can’t fight
I don’t want to fight.

Because
it is that much of me
that resides in you,

that I
am the surrender.

That I
am the defeat
of my heart. View Post

White Camellia

You’re the white camellia
I’ve been hunting in my wildforest.

Roaming through the woods,
I’ve been seeking
that scentless purity
to fill my soul,

to revive me,

to renew me…

…to forgive me.

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