Flash

Picture time recorded
sorted noted filed and dated
moments kept for reference
of a time appreciated
Is it truth in capture
or a fleecing shade to cover
emergence of a secret deed
or lover of another
Pictures worth a hundred sighs
to wanton hearts and prying eyes
a soul complete in compromise
a simple smile to recognize
Can it be the loss of now
recorded made to date somehow
the truth we force to fade but vow
and hope again that shine allow
Either be it capture
of a moment with us in it
or us to capture moments forced
to fade out any minute
Careful to thyself be true
and picture life unfaded
no matter time recorded
sordid hearts appreciated

Time Is Nothing Borrowed

Floating past and weightless
looking down at my perception
trees with winds are swaying
and these thoughts are my reflection
Leaves upon the waters of
a still and calming tide
mirror hued of me renewed
to through our conscience glide
Moments here are passing fast
none more than just a minute
still I'm floating weightless
just my being, being in it
Changing time by ticking by
my presence to explore
borrowed time in fact designed
to wind down more and more
Still at peace and one with plans
to hang my heart to sleeves
floating past and weightless
ticking time and swaying trees

Reminiscing.

Calling cast from trailing past
retreat to safety's harm
in the warming flames we leave
the devils to their charms
Shaken and defeated
though repeated stronger shadows
gliding through the dealings due
come true in karma's meadows
Still to dance and dare to doubt
the shout of dark's ambition
O heart to stray and swagger sway
revive from death's remission
To the feet that guide untrue
yet still their gait goes trailing
through a past that's calling fast
and virtues that are failing
Resolve be stout to carry out
from flame to fire go panning
be careful for your asking
or the flames you may be fanning.

A Walk Through Wilted Gardens

Still this masquerade displayed
from hopeful hearts to promenade
The wants and needs of ends so frayed
to tie them up the past replayed
The journey of redemption
casts us out from day to day
The love we always sought to seek
finds hearts now cold and gray
Death of our obstruction
a reduction of salvation
an answer true though jaded through
this minor complication
On the mighty stage we dance
and on that stage we falter
still believe the choice we feed
the end is ours to alter
Will it be the finding of
the show that brought them tears
or will it be ovation of
the death of wasted years
Either or completed
playing ours from day to day
And yet we are that masquerade
as hearts still promenade.

The Transparency of Heat

The cool of night is calling
drifting lightly cross the skin
playing through her hair
to circle back exhale again
Warmth of breath is failing
flailing throes of death on exit
fall turned quick upon us
winter's grip came unexpected
Is it snowing, love
in icy meadows of your heart
or do you know what comes and goes
those clouds too thick to part
Twilight glistens now in birth
of sparkled heaven's blanket
a moment's heat resign retreat
love's cup we all but drank it
Was it emptied chalice
on a palace of regret
or courtyards hued in love renewed
each time we don't forget
Knows not the wind the answer
still the dancer doth the falling
those scents of pleasure on the breeze
as cool of night is calling

Morning's Glory

Morning came in all it's glory
day is dawning night's submission,
no one knows the turning point
when dreams fall to remission.
In the jagged dusk
amongst the lilies of the field,
do you know a moment's worth
as truth reproof revealed.
Waning life as sunlight fades
shifting night from blues to greys
and in a self imposing haze
the fallen stare afix their gaze.
Streaking now across the night
to end the burn with all their might
The final show up give the ghost
a moment here and gone we toast.
Thankful for the flame we felt
the burn ends not the story,
night is creeping up again
to reign on morning's glory.

My Heart It Beats

Flushing flash a pulse is racing
flooding in come rising rush,
O' night to wilted morning
day to dark crash dreams to crush.
Clearing up and cleansing
rinsing rust from thoughts to glide,
forced into remission
as submission mortified.
Old death again this era
does the dawning truly sting,
echoes of perversion
or excursions gone unseen.
The hopeful casting call
of lady night to find her mister,
the drying up of dreams to doubt
of those who barely missed her.
Velvet arms about me
whisper soft and raise me slow,
the moments tween my waking
sleeping hope to tremble so.
Yet to rise each morning
thankful in our wretched gracing,
flooding in comes evenings sin
flashing flush of pulses racing.