What Crosses My Mind

  • Civilized Agony

    Tears are real, though hidden, repressed, we really don’t reveal fires inside, we can’t allow others inanimate reasons to hold court in the presence of others. When alone, that ability to cry out loud delights the mind, while sitting alone without audience tears will flow free and yet if we reveal a sob, a gasp,…

  • Tears

    I want the wet embrace of a river to overcome crags of emotion sand will scrape smooth a fever if allowed to, desires we shun. ~ if then, anxieties a treacherous cliff we must always see the end rather in a deep abyss, body stiff our satisfactions again we pretend. ~ lift off the common shell…

  • When Listening is Hearing

    There are times when I just don’t listen, she speaks, while I remain in the room, certainly one could see I am not present. ~ There are years that I try to recall, her voice, suggesting I am close, able to understand without hearing. ~ There are voices that I do recognize, her words, always…

  • If There Were No Tears

    We couldn’t celebrate our love We wouldn’t know if there was loss We would forever be drawn to nothing We would be simply nothing for with tears live our emotions, for with tears we become alive within ourselves for with tears we can reach a climactic end to the suffering, – perhaps only to live…

  • I Do Wait

    Every day, every sunset, every wake in the middle of the night, the notion comes to mind, I do when walking down a lonely hallway, one that has a regular purpose, I do wish to know just how many times, I might find myself not alone, yet so many miles away, yet familiar with your…

  • Don’t Try Again

    I decided it might be pointless, though I’d been told that so many times before while always refusing. I just kept searching for that moment, when tears would just come, nothing forced, only real. Then came the pause, when we think about is it really the cry, or instead are we wondering just why, there…

  • This Child Again

    This child again listens to the echo, keeps calling, speaking in quiet tones, when once, the world was large, now no one really knows. ~ This child again, on sunny mornings, at the crack of a new day, would venture out, seek new horizon, fresh spruce and damp soil. ~ This child again, when death…

  • All About the Tears

    Someone told me the other day seems an easy line to say, they really did though, spoke those words what the suggestion means one doesn’t know can only imagine perhaps use a visual trigger when everything we do creates a shockwave effect that rings a bell countries away, that wouldn’t actually make a noise if…

  • In The Quiet

    Her voice, for years my guiding melody, such sweet surreal knowledge. When I was a kid, I remember wondering if always unsure, was she walking or going away, the tears wouldn’t stop, I waited, that’s when I learned the true meaning of abandon … When I can sit and write these words, how might I define…

  • Occasional Tears

    Those moments when sitting alone in the room, an idea crosses my mind, shall the rivers be released. ~ From a quiet distant embankment when the waters begin to tide the soil allows moisture new ground to intermingle ~ We have a common need to communicate with each other along the way, to assure one…