Awakenings (Dec/Jan 2000/2001)

We awaken by falling,
By ground rushing towards us
Eyes opening as wide as they can.

Death is rising at us,
Immutable, unchanging, eternal,
Our lives hurl past us
In a mad reel, sight blurred by
Laughter joy hope tears loss.
Nothing is pierced but memory,
Nothing lost but time.

We fall as we die, meeting ourselves
In that brief moment of clarity
Broken by our fears of lows,
Not highs. Grounds, not heights.

Eyes open with a start, a gasp
Defying death, tangled in life.
Sweating as we get out of the bed sheets.

Dreams (Dec/Jan 2000/2001)

Somewhere there lies forgotten
The dreams I have begun,
The good, the ugly, the rotten,
All lie together unsung.

Each heart felt oath I've made,
Each pledge I have spoken,
Each plan I have laid,
All Come back to me broken.

Each one a solemn token,
A measure of things said;
Races I have never run,
Each flawed gem a dream -- forgotten.

Lights (Dec/Jan 2000/2001)

The lights grow dim and flicker
Like lone candles, glittering.
In the dark, wax runs slowly
Dropping off into nothingness.

There is no out-box; the cans overflow.
Garbage litters the dusty floor.
Unrecycled.

Hot wax slowly melts off a candle,
Striking pages from the book of memories.
The fire flares then goes out,
Vain hands reach for what was
And memory makes it something new.

Other lights flicker on then fade away,
Returning brighter or dimmer, or not at all
But always different, glimmering
Like circuits in some old computer.
Our memories of present times
Burn away the harsh truth of what was.

The Siren's Call (Dec/Jan 2000/2001)

The sea beckons me,
Whispers of voices calling me to dream
Even though I will not remember.
A brief echo of Lethe* in my mind,
These hours that vanish, unrecalled
During the too bright light of the sun.

I do not remember the storms or balms,
Only waken to silence.
The peace of forgetting that is sleep
Calls to me with my own voice,
A dream seeking its dreamer.

* Lethe is one of the 5 rivers of hell, the river of forgetfulness.

Tranquillity (2001)

Standing quietly all alone
On islands of calm,
Movements ripple past, sticks and stones
For which there is no balm.

Bones break and knit, no longer strong,
Skin burns, weathered by wind;
A calm rises against all wrongs
Trying to make me blind.

A silence of stilled emotion
Rises, nothing contrived:
In this state of no confusion
I forget why I strived.

dreaming (August 2002)

i don't think of fairies anymore
or treasures at the end of rainbows
or dream of all fantastic things
that lie beyond the worlds we know

my imagination that once flew
through wild haunts that knew no bounds
Lies bound by chains of intellect
That pin it to the pallid ground.

My childhood dreams no longer gleam,
But I don't recall a fall
Even though that world of wonder
Has passed beyond recall.

Yet something of them still remains --
The fairies hiding in ufo's
Tell us somewhere deep inside
There's more to the world than reason knows.