The heart’s an aching thing; like anything,
It seeks the music of another beat;
The echo of its own leaves its own sting
Where brokenness and loneliness then meet.
You are alone. You feel it in your bones
That none can feel the pulse beneath the stone;
Yet, you’re alone. Is there a beauty there?
Where is it hidden? Here, among these tears?
The silence stresses death aloud to sight
The emptiness that every ember earns
And, with a breath as frigid as its fright,
Sends to a form of smoke this flame that burned.
I seek the beauty of my loneliness,
Yet the heart dies where darkness finds its bliss.
How fallen must we beings be when Devils
Can, with a whisper, render death in levels.
There is a rank to death and those deserved,
Where not by rank are others fairly killed
But by the evil made in incant’d words.
Look upon thyself: How like him art thou?
Him, the proud and hateful of creation
That cursed man for but clay before fire’s glow
And was cursed after, testing our temptation.
The blood of men’s hands nestle eons-long,
But starts with vanity and the pride willed
That do all but separate us from wrong.
Dost thou then honor life in hatred’s ilk
When reaping based no more than hues of silk?
Love is the color that comes o’er the sky
When day sees night’s birth and night sees day die.
The Sun’s paint fading in the cloth of saints,
A purity of love purely aglow;
It shines in hearts endowed with lover’s paint
And covers eyes with the sky’s covered show
With day’s last breaths and with light’s final faint.
Beauty, and yet all things die a day come,
Even beauty; love fades to nighttime’s song,
Reaped rightfully as life demands in sum –
As love even proclaims its days’ length wrong –
And so floats the pink cloud with its last hum.
And yet, beyond the night, love comes again,
In both the worldly life and patient pen.
Do they contain?
Indeed, they shine
When struck in love
And fill with tears
When sadness is provoked.
What are …The Eye. our souls?
That which beholds
Beauty and light
And life and cries
Upon being but a human.
To see other’s souls
In their irises
And love each other:
The calm buzz
sets off this:
I sit here,
watch the reed
the small waves.
Bends and bends –
does it break.
The stream follows no laws, pushing along
With the clouds as its only rivalry.
There is something beautiful, sitting here
And watching with nothing but watchful eyes
At the stubborn reed and the mighty stream.
I have beheld the stars:
They are beautiful, beyond comprehension.
I wonder how they feel
Watching us from so high?
I do not think them as judges
But wonderful friends in the sky.
Indeed, when I look upon them
On a lone night with a large moon
And a clear sky,
I find often that they smile down on me,
And the last thing I feel
Bright dost thou shine: what dare shines brighter hence?
Evade the darkness, for its skin is dense.
A morning sun from ocean’s bed doth lie
Under thee in rank of beautiful things;
‘Tis vain to think else, such that th’even sky
Illuminates no mournful that which thou dost bring,
Fulfilling when thou dost close thine eyes.
Unsated – damn thee, lust! – am I thus curs’d
Love’s whipping doll in face of thee, sweet dame;
Art thou the East and West; the Sun’s birth and Moon’s hearse?
Nay, I dare not speak little of thy name,
Grown in Elysium, christened in verse.
Evade the darkness, angel! It is vile;
Love best makes shadows little more than bile.