The Ghost of You

day of dead

I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge the hit to my gut

to see the status posted

2 days after

glad I did not fall prey to past fantasies

and just let what was felt run through without taking action

and getting caught in a trap again

to be cast out

I cannot help but think

it was a test to see what would be

but you know

I could not take that chance again


my heart

the one I lost somewhere along the way

I know it’s true

and too bad for you

had I taken you in

it could have never been again

in essence

to spare another innocent

the grief

delivered unto me

when blinded by love

it destroyed

the gift given so freely

taken by a thief in the night

the energy left within me

has been an undoing of sorts

yet I hope in some strange way

the energy given of me

will be a making

of hearts without me near

so when all is up and down

please don’t come around

to inject a bit of ego

into a wound

only you alone

can heal

I cannot fathom

how I would be feeling

had I taken what I wanted

that was never mine

to keep

but everything I breathed

once upon a time

no last time fling

to set you a sail

for into the seas you chart

your course

without the blemishes of despair

repeat not the past of mistakes

the greatest gift I give to thee

and to her

and most of all

to myself

a taste of the slice of innocence

I once had

becomes the poison I dare not drink again

no matter how much

it may have united

the immortal dance to step within

no matter its presence

lingers evermore

to embrace and release

carriages are not for me

for in a field of pumpkins I will lay

and in due time

the slipper shall slip

then come what may

shall come again to play

when the heart is empty

nothing but love can fill the day

the mourning is far from complete

I carry it with me

but it does not lead me astray

one day the politics will not sever

that which could not be undone

when truth hits home

may warmth shine upon your heart

a memory so fond

no ice can withstand

the summer’s glow

tip, to tip

wrapped round

and unbound

no matter which way the age of time blows

the candle and the flame

sees it all

the light that shines beyond this life

enraptures us all to love

and on bent knee

true love presents itself

sooner or later to us all

a kiss to the wind

behind my back

is the breeze that shall carry me home

Sigh, and smile, such transitory flights

but what is real lasts

and what is not shall pass…

just a ghost of the past flickering through…

I observe, and give a hug to embrace

and blow a kiss to the air

for I know there is nothing there

for me to hold therefore

it is a dare

to think otherwise

there is a flickering

for me to catch you in a flame


I am not game

to entertain a ghost in my heart

for once I did

never was I the same

I know all too well the masks your heart wears

and all too well I know

what it needs

and if it was me

you let me go

because it was not

meant for strangers to the heart




Swift the Wind She Speaks

black horse

Slapped down

Battened down

Forced into the shade

Gagged and bound

passed around

like some tribal slave

the ego rests its head

upon the graves of innocence

did it make you bleed

to see the cut so deep

you cannot force me to bleed

for you

threaten me

to make me desolate

to take your refuge of lies away

where shall they go

when I am tied

and they have no where to go

but fester inside of you

the scapegoat you flung

into the air of your deceit

convincing others of so many wonderful feats

in pomp and slippery candied coated

personas you wear

so cleverly you have them fooled

if not you

it were her

these wretches in what they do

ran from one to find another soon thereafter

sucking at the dew

this evil cord that runs amuck

through men

and women

in unconscious tributes

to the stains they wear

as they lash out

into mockery of their selves

it is repugnant when seen for what it is

their blindness in folly

of wanton affairs

seething in sinew

the nerve to shred another

does not rest

well in their beds

try as they might to break another

when never their task shall be undone

unto themselves broken they befall

for not escaping the claws that jaded

and marred their quest

and in steed upon their backs

the striking of the whips

shall crack

and into their peril they shall run

dumping their deeds

before the feet

swift the wind she speaks

they stumble and fall

onto their knees

when mercy reckons  with the beast




sanctuary of truth inside

Hope it can be a long road

a trial and a testament of faith

a belief to be actualized at some point

we carry it with us

often tuck it in at night to let it wander in our dreams

a sliver of light

oft when we search amidst the shades that pale

blood letting in its quest at times

to be so entrenched in desire

to hope

a life to live full it seems

keeps it in its sights

yet when it is gone

like air from flight

popped into shattering endless breaths

until a new horizon dawns

Hope in my heart

like love to give away

dancing in manifestations

of imaginations

realized bringing delight

yet when it is gone

dashed it slips

and flees into the breeze

of broken endless seas

and tireless needs

never to be met

except in a mad man’s dream

and when the slumber is complete

he awakens where hope is not and screams

a silent eternal cry

and there is no amount of wondering why

other than to accept

it was not meant to be

there can be no erasing of these scars

no mending of rectifications of my life

yet it stands

sight unseen


“Truth shines even in its absence” – Shri Prashant


Blather…speak it not

warmest part

The blather speaks

points fingers at the broken

makes assumptions that they are worse

in projections of its brokenness

throws energy in the mix

took aim at children

how trite

the blather thinks it is funny

to poke at lives

Blather baits to its own fate

moments of brokenness written

where nothing broken is kept inside

it is a truth that cannot hide



in my moments of brokenness I write

and when the ink is dry, there is nothing broke left inside…



lillian gish and ralph forbes

Why do people not speak

They don’t want to lose jobs, respect…the capacity to care for themselves

not to wear a scarlet letter forever

for a mistake

where help is not found there

when it is all deemed to be an atrocity

that cannot be fixed

limiting in thinking

and sweeping in its consequence

that forgets

the innocence found within us all

to learn to correct ourselves

if but given a chance to speak the truth

without shame

for its greatest consequence is its utterance

for there within one owns the blame

Aye, he to cast the first stone, casts it at himself…

its a truth we all must face


the truth is like a catcher’s mit

the universe throws it back at you

it’s a boomerang effect

some call it karma

this is swifter

in its immediacy

barbs stick not

on the pure of heart

take aim with the truth

lest an arrow splinter back into you



I love you

I am sorry

Thank you

I am missing you

I want to call you

text you

send thoughts your way

then I remember how you told me

I would be screaming your name as I faced the fiery gates of hell

The irony is, I know you were always wanting me to do well

pushing constantly for my surrender

and to the Lord I kept it safe from your keep

Picked up gems of thought tonight

started reading about the colors of music

the dancing of light amidst the sounds

the frequencies and the cadences of your spirit

calling to my heart

knowing within

to speak again

will be another chagrin

of my underpinning

as I attempted so many times

to fit square pegs into round holes as you would say

to my hard headed ways

yet at times too

at the razors edge I stood

or perchance laid

the season of the spirit calling

to sit at the well once more

yet so long it has been

to build back my strength

to forbear my breath

yet is it strong enough

I wonder to set sail


where to

into the abyss of nothingness

without a master teacher to guide me

my choice or is it just the way

the path a destiny


when you were asked

what if she is not ready

what will you do

and now if I am ready

what shall I do

leave it all behind

with only but love to guide my journey home

in letting go

there is no separation of mind

for so long on every word I hung

it takes time to see

that which one believes

sending out my apology

in each waking and sleeping breath

to be so thankful for each step of pain

reminiscent of ecstatic lifting of the life within me

transcendent, ascending, descendant

shifts that pass through

temporal entanglements of mazes cast before me

to step aside ethereal

to not be ensnared too  long

trans-formative emeshments

perchance of cosmic twins

is there ever a severing

to the chords unwound

through the distance of aeons

when I refused to utter the words of your commands

distant memories

warnings and forebodings

in spite

yet sounds around midnight in the garden

and in the morning rose petals found on the ground

amidst the bones on the rocks

too much to ponder how those events

took shape

to chasten me

I could not be caught in those traps

at least that is what I thought

yet now I wonder if those were laid

to cause me to run away

into a place where love is not

for fear and love cannot coincide

did some force drop

stumbling blocks to trip me up

yet what is, is what is salt on the ground

and in my dharma is the acceptance of the suffering

to be so blessed

to sit at your feet

to wrestle at the heal

the struggle to break free

to see

my heart bleeds and fills endlessly

in silent magnitude

where all becomes manifest

in some strange way

in the stillness where time does not exist

where miracles surface like waves

that rise with the tides

and in its depths I am calm

I love you

I am sorry

thank you

I am missing you

and through jungles I shall walk

and not fear the tigers

lurking there

for I see God everywhere

in presence

no evil can prevail




Into the Green

butterfly garden pic

The light it shines so beautifully

and bounces off the nature of things

the heart shaped leaves climbing high

in the breeze you can hear the birds sing

nearby on the ground the kittens scurrying here and there

the scent of jasmine left its mark in spring

yet how wide amidst the canopy its vines

the little red trumpet flowers dancing in the wind

the china doll hues of green shimmering in the rays

in awe surrounded by the stature of the oaks

in delight within the garden

my senses breathe


for it is the nature of the light

that carries me

creates the life

that nurtures all things

into the green

to be blessed’

with a little bit of chlorophyll

dancing in the sky

bouncing healing all around

feeling the grounding

beneath my feet

and the freshness of the air

to lift in sprites

the faeries of the dew

sprinkling love embodied

within each breath



snow white poison apple

I shall speak from the grave

you shall not cloak me there

there shall be no silence beneath the dirt

in chambers it will echo

resounding the cries

you cannot bare

when it is all given back to you

how dare you

bludgeon me

and lay at my feet

the flesh

we made

as you stole innocence

blinded by your own inabilities to eradicate

pain you stake and stake

all you see now is a shadow

but in time

the light will be so bright

you will have no where to hide

and the hole you crawled out of shall be sealed

for fate shall play its hand

we shall give you our mercy

for we shall need it no more

to you the sword shall be delivered

by the fruit you bare

the apple on the vine

swings around

back at you

its time is overdue



Another morning

queen of swords ian llanas

Another morning with thoughts pouring forth behind my waking eyes

this memory raining within my subconscious mind

I notice and wonder

will the processing ever be through

must have been fighting demons in my sleep again

to rise from the depths of slumber to ask

how could he do this

the agony of the burden

to know

what he did

it never leaves me

it haunts me

sadness in the taunting

of my flesh

to deny

the truth

never to be set free

a mother’s soul bleeds

another day of mourning

this ax grinding in me

my purpose carved to smithereens

by the lust of disease

he planted

in his deeds

benevolent I have been

to not bring shame to the name

my children bare

one day she will see

when all the wealth is gone

and I am nowhere to be found but everywhere

in my birth

for I shall not fight with flesh and blood

but mind universal

shall prevail

when truth strikes into her heart to bare

to tell her

prisons farewell





expanded eye stream of consciousness dribbling

Dribbling back you come around again

texting, calling, and getting upset when I don’t respond

the childishness in the man it’s a bit puzzling

my dear don’t you understand

I could have called and not heard from you in days

and did I act like a brat in some rage

huffing and puffing through the phone

claiming you were ignoring me

could it be just nothing more than a fantasy

each time you led yourself astray

and now they leave you alone to brew

it’s quite clear all you need is an ego fix

should I care to bandage your wounds

when you gouge me so easily

I wince at your ploys

and observe

and always have

if it were not such a shame

it would be quite comical

but I see your pain

my ego thinks I could teach you a thing or two

yet even my spiritual nature has its limits

I am no martyr for your cause

as you invite me to your lair

that’s not a game I care to play

why do you play yourself so cruelly unaware

maybe there is a consciousness in there knocking at your heart

but your habits so ingrained have seized you up too often

and into knots and stress you stew

and no amount of dribbling will do

your heart it simmers in all you do

maybe in time

you’ll pull it from the fire

and see it is you that roasts your ass

in each conquest and piece you gain

is a loss of your own heart

that always cries out for more

when will the player see the dues paid

are a loss of soul

to be regained perchance when clarity comes into view

if ever

to rise and be one in confidence

without dimming the light of others

to just make you feel alive

what is the beast you feed

that has your mind entrenched

is it merely hormones drenching the senses

I think it is something deeper

yet can you ever bring it to the surface

or shall you hide behind vanity and materialism

to make yourself feel success

what shall you feast upon my dear

that will get you what you desire

maybe one day you shall figure it out

with expanded eyes

but come not my way


I’ll show you the truths

to make your ego bleed

and you’re not ready to cleanse the slate

so unto yourself is your fate

dribbling in streams of consciousness

until one day you wake