We are so afraid to live without;
conditioned to live within.
Position unrecognized on the
plain of existence.
We are beaten by the words of men;
overwhelmed by the confrontation.
Vernacular misled innocence
into the pit of fallen souls.
We are afraid of death;
we are afraid of life.
Stricken by the truth
deceived by the lies.
She was a daughter of the Caribbean, a newborn star; she was the image of paradise before the fall. We met in the hallowed season, death haunted our days. Her mind vexed by the turmoil; her spirit reaching for closure within the downpour of tears. She touched me in ways unimaginable; this beautiful soul wishing I could see past her youth. A grown woman wanting to spend her days with an old man. I will never know what she saw in me; all I can remember is the joy of her hello and the absence of her goodbye.
Walking along the cobblestone road
Stepping upon the familiarity;
The smell of autumn still lingers.
Falling in love;
Refusing to admit it.
Thoughts lie
To protect our state of being;
Wrestling with the truth
To understand our state of mind.
Will we embrace
The darkness within;
Allowing the sun to set upon
An apology, placing a consenting
Shadow on the healing scar?
Fighting to keep tired
Eyes from closing; fear of
The morning prolongs the night.
Sunrise places a kiss;
Tasting regret
Smeared on the lips.
Expectations are inconsistent;
The veil holds back
The light of understanding.
Traces of heat cutting the thin ice into
Footprints. The sensual steps of
A seductive form blessed with grace.
Beauty pulling the light towards her silhouette
Revealing within her eyes a secret and a dare.
Her body refined in its appearance
Yet unrestrained in her dealings; the
Touches of her smooth skin against the
Day’s abrasions heal the reopened wounds.
She wears the scent of comfort.
This alluring fragrance bends sensibility;
Her lips softly kiss the night, into tranquility.
The year continues proving itself
A struggle;
The decisions made
From years past were not without
Consequences.
Time is no longer affording
Second chances,
Laughing at the wishes
Cast within the fountain.
Another day spent,
Shackled between the stones,
Irreparable and unchanging
Conditions without the way of
Escape.
There are days when
Death seems preferable;
Relishing the intrigue of
Resting in the bosom of
The unknown.
I watched an exotic woman inhaling the heat of a burning cigarette; she stood in front of her natural silhouette blowing eclectic rings of smoke into the early morning light.
Her eyes remained closed; her body upright and motionless.
The unfiltered vapors of thought, transforming manifestations from the incantations of familiar frustrations.
She summoned calmness from the root of nicotine; the stillness of her presence conjured Serenity from the unyielding grave.
An exotic woman embraced the spirits of nostalgia, from the lingering ashes.
They met out of mutual appreciation
towards their artistic expressions,
becoming slaves of free will;
incarcerated within their choices.
She wanted to be with him
to follow his footprints, no matter, wherever;
even if the journey led to Hell.
His fingerprints smudged deeply upon, her soul.
She said three words that left him devastated;
Her lips now covered with silence. Sitting in limbo
trying to make sense of it all.
A moonless night conceals the reasons.
She still writes about those moments;
delving into those times to reveal whatever
she missed about herself.
Changes flowing between life and death;
acuity erased by emotions. The long walk
along the path of understanding.
The images within her mind portray a song,
fading like forgotten lyrics.
She lingers upon the corner of exposed
intimacy; pricking her finger on the
point of fallacy.
Small drops of crimson nepotism
releasing clarity. The lessons
smeared within the inked blots
interpreted inconsistently.
She forgot the meaning of her poetry;
her passions defiled within the filthy
knowledge. Crying for days, it was all
she could do to remember.
![Disappointment_thumb[1]](https://writenowandlater.files.wordpress.com/2015/11/disappointment_thumb1.jpg?w=300&h=217)
Lately…
I find myself disinterested,
Disenchanted with these moments.
Disgusted from the faces of
Friendly perpetrators
Spreading their disinformation.
Disengaged due to the politics
Infecting the culture; dissatisfied
With the decisions born in a vacuüm.
My presence abandoned,
Dismissed due to the pursuit
Of nobility.
Lately…
I find myself disappointed
With my expectations.
I am writing,
Until my pen
Bleeds to death.
I created this place upon the black sand
To feel the contrast against the blue sky.
Windows nothing but hollow places
Displaying the light as it
Passes by.
I listen to the them
Proclaiming the end because
It never comes.
The walls of burning flesh cooled
By her shadow. Revealing
The ink-stained words of my life.
I waited for the rain because
It always does.
Sun setting
Upon still waters;
Fading light of
A mirror’s reflection.
Staring at the stories
Etched upon papyrus made flesh;
Breathing between joy and pain.
Touching the platinum strands
Hiding within the ebony whiskers;
Thinking about the dusty roads
Revealing the marks of abandoned footprints.
Feeling the evening breeze;
Hearing the wind chimes
Play its last song.
Sitting across the table
Sharing a quiet moment,
Tasting liquid goodness
From one steamy cup.
Staring at her face,
Hoping to catch a glimpse
Within her thoughts
Tempted by imaginations.
Following the trail,
Paved by her touch,
Along smooth ceramic lines
Shaping our momentary bliss.
Listening to the chaos
Outside; the comfort of
A sanctuary forged by
Two beating hearts.
Oblivious to the sun
Setting beneath the horizon;
Souls cuddling within enchantment
Surrounded by the night.
A man, desiring to end a lonely existence, seeks a woman as his soul mate. Fate concealed in the guise of coincidence drew him to her. He saw her beauty from a distance; the way she looked at him connected their hearts…joining their souls. Obstacles and tragedies prevented them from being together. His need for her was overpowering; longing turned to desperation so, the man reached out to the Devil and bargained with him. Offering his soul for one moment with the woman, to leave her with the knowledge of the love he carried for her. The Devil allowed it, not for him but, for her because unknown to the man,the woman had already bargained her soul instead.
Sleep was nothing but a myth;
nightmares ruled the day.
Vocabulary limited to an apology,
strength dwindled beneath
the weight of pity.
It was a slow progression
on broken glass
towards the darkened room;
insidious laughter cackling
from within the demise.
The smell of bullshit and bureaucracy
induced violent convulsions;
the mental walls came tumbling down.
Phantoms rise;
Circling vapors carry
Unavoidable tandem.
Delight abandons the sky,
Frightened by gruesome reflections;
Images no longer are hidden
Behind the veil.
Contentious desires falling
Among devilish illusions;
Drowning beneath nightmare’s fathoms.
Begging into the night,
Pleading against the
Dissipating kindness.
Fleeting thoughts turn desperate;
Seeking unattainable refuge,
Weary of feigning civility.
Aspirations fading to dust
Quietly, burned away
By the silent sunrise.
Another year is subsiding;
I have lost track of time.
The smell of despair fills the room.
Sleep is nothing but an illusion,
thoughts of “what is” and “what was”
scribbling on the walls.
So many once promised love; there was one
who offered something much deeper.
A beautiful connection,
deeply rooted beneath the surface of affection.
The word “love” was never spoken;
the sentiment felt beyond measure.
It was my situation that opened my eyes
to reality; the fantasy of hope
angered my soul.
It was my hand that closed the shades
removing the light from view; finding
no comfort in the darkness.
Everyday, since that moment, I have
thought about you; the anonymous vocabulary
sent in a bottle, from time to time.
The occasional glance from the shadows,
watching you from the distance; wishing
you could be with me.
She took her fingers to write
A poem on the dusty window glass.
Her thoughts lost within the afternoon
Sunlight; mesmerized by the kaleidoscope.
Playing with her childish inhibitions.
Morning light through
Shuttered blinds
Sitting hidden
Within obscurity.
Memories flickering
Like an 8mm film;
Handwritten notes
Creating mementos
Within a musty journal.
Ticks of the clock
Grow silent;
Eyes fixated on
The bottle of Wild Turkey.
Only the aroma remains.
Raising a toast,
With an empty glass,
Towards happiness
Recently snatched away.
Replaced with the burdens
Of a curse that remain
unexplained.
The white light
no longer burns brightly;
its adoring heat subsiding with
the evening breeze.
Tales whispered beneath
the setting sun;
sentiments basking in deja vu.
The stars revealing truths
we refused to see.
Reflections of eclectic pieces
torn from serenity.
A haunting chill
along these nerves;
the pale sky exposes
misty memories
touching the forgotten horizon.
I love this moment,
sitting deeply obscure
while the obtuse populace
plan their fate.
I get to think of her.
Thinking about her toes,
hidden within those little socks.
Dreaming about a rendezvous
to someplace warm; stripping down to our
bare essentials.
Naked along the trinity, pure forms
pressed against each other; feeling
the skin of consciousness shedding
to reveal our smiles.
Write Now and Later 
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