Faith

This is a verse inspired by a friend of mine who believes that sometimes, just sometimes we have to trust in what seems impossible and cannot yet be fathomable.

When hope seems to falter, and our human strength to fail. When all around us life seems to crumble, like a house of cards, faith always stands on a pinnacle, shining its way through the darkness. It revolves around and around like a lighthouse beacon through the thickest fog. It is then that we know our lives, like a vessel in troubled waters, blind, unstable, we will find our way home, upon the shores of happiness and contentment, where our dreams come to fruition.

Moments Made Memories

by Kerri Miller

what has become of what we knew,
moments made memories so precious, the few,
the amount of love did depreciate,
life long searching for my soul mate,
I knew of you then, know of you now,
ever since you took the vow,
the rings of engagement,
or is it engaged by the ring,
whatever the reason there is no real meaning.

I close my eyes, I see your face,
I smell your fragrance,
your warm embrace.
I open my eyes, you are out of sight,
distant stranger in the night.
I close my ears, I hear you whispering my name,
kiss upon me, mixing pleasure with pain.
I open my ears, the sound of silence,
nothing,
words you don’t say.
I close my heart, I feel your hands,
and I love you for making me feel this way.
I open my heart, all has escaped,
the moments made memories,
all seem to fade.

11-06-03

Dust and Ash

"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought..." ~ William Shakespeare

There is nothing sweet or silent about my thoughts. They are as a cacophony of thunderous emotion which boom against the brick walls of hindrance and despondency that I've built in my wage against an uncertain destiny.

Am I bound for the immortality that is akin to rapacious craving in my terminable coil? Or am I bound for dust and the ash that I am namesake? A forgotten form that will dwell in the tide of longing that for eons has swallowed whole those that do not ever manage more than to live.

In my mind, I shine brighter than the nova sun. In reality, very few look beyond the sullen shell that carries inside it my luminous core.

The Unforgiven

dear child

this world has too much hate,
selfishness and despair
people with nothing else but malcontent in their heart
that fuels their passions of vanity

you must not bear ill will towards anyone
it only consumes you from within
turning you into those whom you loath so
and paints your spirit with never ending malice

do not avenge wrong done to you
once it starts, the cycle never ends
it mutates to boundaries beyond
and blinds you from life's ultimate purpose

dear mother

it is too late -
I am already burned
my soul is darkened with hate
and the sadism of vengeance

I no longer deserve the tenderness offered me
the passions in life I long for
I am unclean of spirit
of hell only destined

dear friend

hate in your heart
is only the hate you bear against yourself
for all the things you have done
to make you feel unworthy of life

healing comes from letting go
you must forgive yourself
it is impossible I know
but it is the only way

dear lover

I cannot offer you myself
I am tainted by my misdeeds
I will only bring you pain
I will only weigh you down with the hell that is my soul

I cannot be forgiven
I cannot let go
my life's end is my only penance
do not cry for me, I am not worth it
I shall sleep upon death's bosom

dear daughter

the crosses we bear
are our salvation
to have a conscience
is to be human

guilt leads to repentance
a liberation from denial
a release from hades
a haven for a fractured soul

that which is broken can be mended
that which is torn can be sewn back together
that which is cracked filled up
that which is shattered remade

forgiveness waits for you with open arms
always calling your name in quiet stillness
her voice the balm for the heart
her warmth the rest your heart longs for

Sight the Inspiration

Image: Ansel Adams, McDonald Lake, Public Domain

A Simple Truth

"Men often become what they believe themselves to be. If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. But when I believe I can, then I acquire the ability to do it even if I didn't have it in the beginning." ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Lack Hope

she mocks me as she calls to me
taunting me, haunting me
her far cry irresistible
her whispers the smoke of shadows

she veils my tomorrow in dread,
tearing my soul to pieces
shredding my reason to ribbons of agony,
capturing me in a cage of despair

the ink in my word is gone
the hue in my world is gone
the shades in my world are gone
the color in my world is gone

I stumble to uncertainty,
every step the pain of a thousand cries
the tears are stuck in my throat,
my heart is denied its voice

there are snares in my path
she dogs me in the shadows,
laughing maniacally
her minions of lack hope striking at me from the darkness

I fear I shall fall
and rot in this tunnel
I fear i shall never wake,
as she owns me forever

the agony within lacks voice,
as I call for death to take me
but I know with certainty,
he will not hear me

a light that I long for is calling to me
and it seems never nearing as I go to it
it is my only salvation as she watches me succumb
and even it starts to flicker in indefinite uncertainty

The Toxic Exotic

I chase careless twirls with my eyes,
as they merge with invisible mists,
they conspire in whispers
to capture my very soul.

my soul will belong to her,
the toxic exotic
she has stolen my reverie,
with baneful enticement.

my ruthless wonder has poisoned me,
there is no nostrum,
her breath is of musky inhalations
and a fragrance of fairy woods.

she renders me breathless, quick looks
with her bewitching brown gaze,
they have an unconventional glimmer,
la femme fatale has made me her willing prisoner.