Dark is the dungeon
where I dwell
my life has become a living hell

Night descends but for all I know
there could be daylight
or a candles glow

The fires of hell may be burning bright
but this I cannot see
the bread crumb trail I followed
ended inside of me

Witches on broomstick
are for fairy tale and light
other entities fill my night
leaving me pallid with fright

it takes a life time to know
to learn all about happiness
also
how to remain so

most of us run
from pillar to post
to find out what happiness means
no one searches one’s inners
to realize that’s where happiness lies,
in between mind and me

my desires and wants
my lust and sex...
all we need to do
is just to be happy
that’s what I mean to be,
do you really know
what happiness means
to ye….

I stare into the rays,
A face.
No more than a rumor in the mind
A face that peeks through the sun,
as it's strewn across the leaves
Long since it was forgotten.
Now a ghost, in a mind that is lost.

I can only reminisce
at having had the memory
My mind grasps at the whispered thought,
mere apparitions in my hand.
Where are they?
Where are they?!
Lost.

The song still plays...

I've been around a little while
and seen and learned a lot.
I've walked many a rugged mile
beyond where asphalt burns so hot.

All of which I'd like to share
with friends when they come to call,
sometimes by laying my soul as bare
as grafiti on a crumbling wall.

But I'm not one to give a speech
(public speaking makes me sweat)
I'd rather walk a sandy beach
or lonely hollows, better yet.

ECHOES

I am a ghost walking through
the years invisible and unseen
haunting my yesterdays.
I call out to death's silence deep
but echoes of my own terror
reverberate across the universe
cold and unforgiving
in silent denial.

sticky damp rivers
and white cigarette bodies
with slender brown tips
like a wreck
slinking into the shade
the yardage tilting
shinning hair and bright
scalps and tilted hats

horsehair itchy seats

darkness an eclipse
surrenders the hush
of voices
a murmur from the
stalwart banks
cupping expectation

and the shiver

what did you expect when you left us here? For us to love you and want for you to be near. I want to love you but I am not sure how. I feel so dirty and unworthy. Your word says humans are evil through and through if we are what are we to do. We come into the world not by our own doing but you say if we don't choose you we will be going to a place where we are tortured for all eternity I want to love you and I don't want to burn but I feel your love I have to earn

THE SHED by Ian Thomson

In my spider-filled shed, where the flowers were all dead,
And the garden could grow only weeds
In an old watering can, lived a nasty wee man
Who yelled “Beat it !” if I touched his beads.

These beads could be tragic, for they made black magic,
Kids cried, that’s what gave him a laugh.
When shorty Ben Foller wished he were much taller,
The beads turned him to a giraffe!

conjecture
swimming

current dishevel

cascade mirage
shimmers
like a candle
depth
vortex

the golden halo
crown
on our lip of love

rappel
upon
the decline
of night
swirling
together

drawn in the
sinous
dark pasions
a pressure
gathering
momentum

Sleepy if you say
okay wait it’s a poem for you
naughty one over there
where
is your guess

as I said sleepily I profess
a poetry, off my night’s fanciful dress
now you guess
my poetry today
and
amend it later

I compose
a poem for you , you
who ?

I can’t say till
the poems enroute on its way
but sleep overpowers me right away
perhaps I may also go astray
let me compose a dreamy poetry
just for you all today