Life...a la Carte

Life…a la Carte

Moments reincarnated

you would think and hope

anew

no cohort

yet so few

never once fully acted

and always a blink

or two

short.

Thus is life,

I am told,

Are you sold?

Or haven’t you heard,

of a place,

where the old

and the new

together onto a shy sun flew?

With words of strife,

in a silent roar, wry they remain

and untrue.

Did I blur the two,

those moments,

of the mold,

and those that are wholly yours?

You thought

you had lost,

won, or threw?

Moments reincarnated,

in semi-lies and semi-truths,

but always yours to hold.

Light upon less Light

Light upon less Light

As you fade softly from my sight

ascending those lofty stairs

looking back at me in spite

of moments shared and those that were not 

blending present with past

and dreams with a future passed

a beginning with no last

I ask where do you go?

when I am here and you are so

close,  and yet so distantly vast?

Then there was…

Then there was…

Then there was right,

    and there was wrong,

    and there was nothing

    in between.

Then there was this song,

   about this dark light,

   and words…and things

   unseen.

Who’s to say what was,

   and what was not,

   and what will this past bring,

   or brought, in lien.

Don’t you remember?

                             Don’t you remember?

What we swore to keep all

between you and me,

as ours,

like this shore to this sea  

keeps its core, breathless,

till its longest hour.

What we settled to dream

alone, in this stream, mindless

till its farthest flower.

Don’t you remember?

all the words that were not spoken,

and all the sighs that were,

in a blurred moment, stolen.

And all the strange things,

that were stirred and were not.

Don’t you remember?

what was ours,

and what we sought,

breath by breath,

to make them so,

only to be brought

into this buoyed real,

with life and death,

a realm from a void.

How can you not remember?

when all was a lull, 
and untold.

When Men Cry

                    When Men Cry

dry tears across renounced years
their sewn visions of stillborn
chances visited, again and again,
often uncalled and smeared, but
always celebrated, mourned, then
worn as trophies of yester fears
won over like a sun glossing 
over its void, only to return
still uncalled and stern.
Witnesses of the rebirth of
immaculate misconceptions,
those tears fester unclaimed,
but by actor and fan,
still wild and untamed,
like tellers of myths can,
men cry only to unlearn.

Save me but one "Omni'a"

                        Save me but one "Omni'a"

To feel all that was meant to be felt,

to dream what no one has yet to gleam

from that smile, that spell,

and all that which by my way was sent.

To share all that was meant to be shared,

in health and in that proverbial ill,

dared, or forever frozen,

hiding scared, and lullybied to nil.

To see all that was meant to see,

moments and epochs freed,

from light, from distance and from time,

where your colors are...but one rhyme, that is mine.

To wish all that was meant to be wished,

that is you, late in fate...my climb and my fall.

What is left to fear?

but the loss of one omni'a, that is "all."

Purple Fate

                            Purple Fate

Stowed between this moment and the next,
I learned not to wait,
for this fading love, or that owed hate.
Come as you may,
for I forgot how to weigh,
this loaded stay, this pray,
and all along this faceless way.
Can you hear me,   
dear?
Will you, in a moment, in a year?
which you could not steer,
nor I, to be clear.
We're both here,
stowed, strode, and almost near.
Is it our fate?,
their broken promise?,
or just us,
not knowing,
how to be little,
or great.