Recuperation on the mind
A charm offensive battling
Visage that appears out
Of the smoke, wild creature
Attacking my soul at its core.
Tempting, teasing, twisting
Trying to shred my resolve.
Creating a fight out of a gift
Turning it back against me,
She steals innocence and never
Gives enough back in return.
Gas feeds the flames and lights
The way down darker paths
Not meant to be traversed.
A truth twisted into a lie,
The specialty of the Faerie Queen.
written – 1/31/2023
You come and go as you please
Lying beside me in the earth
Bright the light of ours shines
Weary you are to be
Dazzling kaleidoscopes
Meant to distract away
Bright and quiet the noise you make
I see you clear in Mid-Summer’s Day
From within, you are illuminated
but try so hard to hide your light
Lies and truths intermingled
Oh so cold is winter’s night.
Have you ever noticed laundry mats are
Always so dirty
A thing made for cleaning – broken.
George Lincoln Rockwell died at a laundry mat
American Nazi
Killed by his own follower.
written – 10/12/2018
Hands gliding over the surface,
The reflection calm and cool
Diving into the depths from the heights
Slipping beneath into the water’s warmth,
Waves rocking against waves.
At night, the sea always rages
But never forget the unpredictable
Nature of the tides, ready
And able to become stormy
At a moment’s notice
Though subject to the pull
Of the moon’s gravity.
Floating high amongst the stars,
Her light shines bright in the night
Full and round her globe
Pulling tight against the ocean
Calling her, beckoning her home.
written – 2/02/2023
I can feel it sitting there
In the deep, dark pit of me
My story…or maybe stories
Trying to claw themselves free.
I push them down and down
And still they struggle to get out
Free from the darkness
That has trapped them so long
They fight up and out
Into the light for the first time
A few wobbly steps later
They stand tall, breathe, and live.
Look closely enough at something
It disappears
In its place, formless
A void of what was
What might have been
Look closely enough at something
Stay blind
To the beautiful forms
All around
Step back and look
Listen and see
Be surprised by all that is
Present
Amazing accidents in Life to be found
As to some lovely temple, tenantless
Long since, that once was sweet with shivering brass,
Knowing well its altars ruined and the grass
Grown up between the stones, yet from excess
Of grief hard driven, or great loneliness,
The worshipper returns, and those who pass
Marvel him crying on a name that was, –
So is it now with me in my distress.
Your body was a temple to Delight;
Cold are its ashes whence the breath is fled,
Yet here one time your spirit was wont to move;
Here might I hope to find you day or night,
And here I come to look for you, my love,
Even now, foolishly, knowing you are dead.
akervand 