Ostracized from quietism
a renegade unafraid, traveling
back along the track that you
have laid.

Interfering as you thrall
not to loose a brawl
What fires would implode
your omniscient demeanor.

The complications of perceptions
my thoughts through your eyes
taking five to summarize.

The unforgiving inch loathing the
unending mile, bleeding lesions
the slow death of your reasons,
what understanding to implore.

On a dark night
With snowy clouds
Dancing round
My windowpane.
I sat all by myself.

I heard a sound
Just out front
That made me bolt
Right to my door

The sound I heard
Was crushing snow
Nevertheless, who could it be?
When it was cold
Out there

I slowly crept
And put one eye
On my peep hole
To my surprise
There was a vagabond
Just outside

I thought,
What if I opened
My door
Will fear scare
Us both
What the hell
It is Christmas Eve

When does the end begin?
A child is born,
The blink of an eye
Taken at a ripe old age
The end is with you
From the start.

The heavens are filled
With despair
For one star has made
Them aware
That none in the sky
Can shine so bright
As the light you provide

The stars up above
Are so jealous
Because you walk about
Like in heaven
With beautiful dove like feathers
Stealing all the glory
From all constellations

For the patterns you form
You ink down on parchment
Creating more beauty
Then all the specks
In the fabric of heaven
Your brightness persist
Despite their harassments

Teasing an intimate breeze
picaresque rages, a sudden
shrill where night lay sleeping.

An insidious spell is creeping,
seeping through the bedroom
walls her scent wafts, it seeks.

Unheard he calls the bull he
bawls! enters her lair without
due care.

Fair maiden sallow skin
incubus stoops tasting
her sweet nectar.

Subjecting her loins
to his nature
he parts his way.

The barren waste land
Of a planet which has moved into its lunar calendar
Exposing the nakedness of its surface.
The land covered in the dry death of the season

Every contour is read
Like the lines on a palm by a fortune teller
The long trial of growth craving tales
That stretch beyond the imagination

Can anyone speak its truth
Or are they the opinions of babbling brooks
That sound like scholarly old ladies and gentlemen
Sitting in the twilight of their years making sense of it.

A veil of sadness
conceals her eyes
she averts his gaze,
integrity doesn't lie.

Retreating into silence
she hopes to hide.
He exaggerates his charms -
attempts to restore lost pride.

Ended engagements
are harder for one
someone stays behind
the other, chooses to run.

Someday they return
perchance to see,
if the grieving partner -
awaits a new entreaty.

Most grevious of all
is their intentional forray
to seduce the lover yet again,
only to stage another get-way.

The kaleidoscope of events
was the life that passed
well planned strategies of life
that were expected to occur,
have fallen short of dreams
that were held while still
a bright eyed youth

To have thought that achievements
would come by simply working hard
then to realize
dreams are but made of vapors
which seem to pass like clouds
all that's left behind is the reality
of standing in the light

"Muse I"

He comes gently
I hear him in my dreams
gives me inspiration
tells me I can fly.
Softly fleeting whispers
I try to catch the quiet
hold it tightly in my hands
till morning
when on paper
I can write,
making inaudible
whispers come to life.

"Muse II"

Seemingly coming from nowhere
these words that I find
dark, forgotten somewhere
beneath clutter in my mind.

I cannot believe
I knew you beyond your name.
A knowledge so intense,
it denied clarity or shame

and yet, there you are now so intimately known,
yet so visibly estranged
Cold, distant, remotely deranged
or is it just me -
alienated, disaffirmed and discarded
by this change

Now it befalls me to realise -
all that I thought I knew was nothing,
compared to what was held from view.
You chose her
and what remains of this Love
I have to eschew...

BB 9 December '10