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I awoke this morning in a warm room with hydrostatic thoughts diffusing with the early drip-tension of sunlight. Muscles sore, body slow, I maneuvered through some basic intuitive limbering, stretching the body to fill up the soul, heart, and mind. That was my intention; but then, I didn't really have an initial value for the day, for these chain...

He stands alone, an obelisk beneath the sun, his hands still blackened from the tar’s old murmur, the shovel, stiff like history, resting at his side. The street is silent now, the fracture filled, its gaping maw of ruin smoothed, a sleek insignificance to all who pass. They will not notice. They never notice— the absence of damage, the absence...

Delicate muse with the knowing smile Please share precious moments with me for a while Would you tell me your name or perhaps even more While I fall in love deeply, forever, for sure Loveliest lady with rose-petal skin Could you open your heart and let this fool in I knew from a distance where my heart belongs To the delicate muse who inspires all...

They gnaw at the edges of me, little sharp-toothed things with hollow eyes, crawling from the cracks in my skull to lap at the marrow of my thoughts. I used to fight them. I used to starve them. But hunger makes them cruel. So now I lay the table. Silver plates of regret, goblets brimming with old wounds, a banquet of memories too raw...

A thousand miles or three, some distance more; Does it much matter so, or not at all? Each wave that comes a-lapping at her shore Shall whisper softly, echoing a call Of love; a feather 'neath the ocean's roar, Left lingering, to trace the sand so calm As would my fingers gently stroke her palm. More acrostic love-anguish, I'm afraid (same...

I am not the face you see, Nor the body that you claim. I am the whisper in the wind, I am the call of the same. Not bound by land, nor by creed, Not by the words you speak or write, I am the spark within your soul, The silence that holds the light. Moksha, Tawhid, or Christ’s embrace, Brahman’s heart, or Allah’s grace— These names are threads,...

The wind howls, madly Helping the waves crash onto a battered shore A place, familiar Names written in sand not there anymore The salt corrodes All it touches erased from memory And time dances on The cold has been my only company The veil has kept me From those who live above In houses warmed By flames of life and love How can I haunt Those...