Gun in hand
I walk to the mountaintop
The world is beautiful from here
all shining in light
as I watch the birds in flight
and a stray lizard 
as he watches me
inquisitively
from his rocky perch

If only life could be this simple
black and white
animal, mineral, vegetable
and not the many colors in between
that appear to be one
yet also resembles another
as if to confuse the viewer.

Meanwhile, the beauty of the sunset
holds me captive
as the songs of my life
pass before me
and, as my lifeblood pours forth from my body
I become joined with the sun.
                       SeaDreams, 2/1/99



EROSION
Like the coastline
in Mendocino
I am wild.
Yet I am solid
as the rocks
the frantic surf
assails upon.

I have stood
many years
to the tides
as shells 
scattered the shoreline
and the tides 
threw the refuse of the sea
upon its beaches.

The ocean, 
while of water
that spills, yielding,
can also reach its hand
to grab you
and 
pull you down
dropping you amongst
the seaweed and bits of rock and wood
washing in with the tide.

I am this wild raw power
yet I am impotent
against its forces
but stand proud
as it hurls wave after wave
of mighty attack
and I stand in defiance.

In time
I will be no more
but bits of rock
upon the shore
and a memory.
              SeaDreams 2/1/99



The Invisible

Nobody sees the wounds...
the blood 
that drips 
from my soul

while todays
and the memory 
of yesterday
still smarts
 from the pain

I walk past you
on the street
and you may smile
but you don’t really see me
nobody does. 
                  SeaDreams 2/1/99




Imprisoned 
within the confines
of my soul
self-constructed bars
separate me from your world.
I bury my head, 
ever-further
in the pillow
that I may not hear
or see.....or feel

I care not to taste the wine
and drink 
from the springs of life
that trickle down the mountain
though pure it may be
I fear it is tainted
with the sewage 
from the bowels of men
who care not what they poison
or leave littered on the path.
                             
       SeaDreams 1/31/99


Sweet Release

oh that you would strike me down
on rolling grassy hills
where bluebells and yellow buttercups
sing gentle songs to the wind

in this bed
I would sleep
with sweet memories
of days gone by
where smiles filled the air
and the sun set pink, orange and golden
on the horizon

I will dream of you, my love
on nature’s bed
where peace blankets me
from the cold
and
the moon and stars shine down upon me
and keep me safe.

And if I should dream
it would be of you
during days we spent with laughter, 
and not pain
nights of bodies joined in that tender 
dance of love
when your lavender eyes met mine of bright green
and we created a color all our own.
        SeaDreams 2/1/99




battlefield

what makes love
a battlefield
where bloodshed
and destruction
mark success
and the purpose 
is to break 
and destroy

from days of old
man has used weapons of war
fighting battles
that need not be fought
over disputes
where there were no
solutions.

What is it
that is so worthy
it costs lives
and homes
and families
maiming and killing
in a wake of destruction.

Is this the way of man?
Always wanting what is not his?
Always challenging
despising what is different
and, rather than look to understand
looks to gain submission?

Power is the apple
in the garden
the fruit forbidden
yet the one thing
he must ultimately possess.

Because it is men
that believe
that rules are to be broken
and women to be taken;
poor young virgins
to be pillaged
for the sake of
his masculinity
while salty tears
pour forth from
innocent eyes.

We must build
a secret garden
in which to hide
from those that would
force our legs
wide apart
while the serpents
of death 
enter our bodies.
           SeaDreams 2/1/99




Hit the Bricks, Bitch

Even the poetry is dead
the words: all used up
the tears: shed long ago
the feelings: destroyed
by careless whispers.

Once I loved you
and the world was magic.
The sun shone bright
and the stars seemed to twinkle
just a little brighter
than they used to.

I looked in your eyes
and glimpsed heaven.
Your heart touched mine,
our bodies joined 
in perfect unity.
We fit, 
as pieces in a puzzle.

How it happened
I do not know.
Was there a moment,
or a look, or a word
that made things change?
Did we do the puzzle too often,
and wear out the pieces,
so they no longer fit?

Did we say harsh words
once too often
until they
cut too deeply into
our hearts
and the apologies
stopped having meaning?


Like an elusive cloud
the blackness looms.
We know our destiny
yet we try and fight it,
Preferring the rainbows
we painted together
so very long ago.

But our painting
now turns black
with a patch of red,
an abstract of anger
and hurt.

And that blackness kills
the gentle pastels 
of the rainbow
leaving only a memory
where dreams once
were woven 
from the fabric of love
and held together with 
our hopes,
and the spark
that once lit our souls.
                           SeaDreams 2/8/99


The shaft of broken dreams

I’m falling again
into the web of darkness
I know so well.

Down and down and down 
I go
passing rocks
that jut like knives
from the walls.
Bits and pieces 
of fabric and skin
bloody from battle
cling to their sharp edges.

The fingers reach out for me
and yet
I continue to fall,
past skeletons of visitors past.
Some have jumped, 
yet most have fallen here
pushed by circumstance
and driven by fury.
Their faces contorted
in ghostly pain,
as if driven by 
their demons within.

How did I get here?
I know not.
It seems I have been falling
endlessly, 
for as long as I can remember.
Tossed by 
careless words 
and 
shards of criticism.

Will my release lie in a thud
amongst broken bottles and
pennies tossed?
Will my face too, 
retain that ghastly glow?
And when you fall down this well
of broken dreams,
will you look at my face
and wonder of my demons?
Will you wonder of my dreams?
         SeaDreams 2/8/99