sunrise…

a corner seat
at
a daydream’s table
nothing
floating
between
the frames
on
my forehead
but
the sweet notes
of
piano music
and
memories
of
when magic
was
real
and
love would last
forever
an eternal flame
that
nothing
in life
could extinguish
and
the ticking of time
seemed
like
the sound
of
spring rain
on
a tin roof
rhythmic melodies
warm
as
a lover’s breath
and
as
a sweet
a morning tea
here
in
my
corner
seat

 

disapproval…

sometimes
subtle
but
rarely
unobserved
small movements
of
lips
or
eyes
that can
quickly
be translated
by
even
the dullest minds
ah
but those
with
intellect
stare off
into
a mythical horizon
as if
nothing
was
covertly conveyed
turning
the predator
into
the
prey

 

less than strangers…

every thing they said
has come to lies’ fulfillment
you do not recall
an old wagon ride
round and round all those summers
nor do you recall
whose hands and voice embraced you
some how ghosts stories
have replaced the real events
a black hologram of truth
i understand why
the truth is hard to live with
those crimes of passion
have altered life’s history
and the fools always believe

 

no expedient allegiance with faith…

knees sore from praying
thumbing for a new passage
for understanding
compromising with evil
but not one can be found