For shoulders beneath the weight of the world













Photo Courtesy:  Florida memory flickr stream

Heavy the Heart

~a poem

Lone, dark house on a hill

Above darker secrets it sits

Grey and blues meld together

In the haunting. in the quiet still

Sad willow dying outside

Cracking paint

And rain seeping

in my windowsill


Lights camera, infraction

Where the pain sets in

I won’t leave you lonely

To find your way again

Hiding from the pressure

Away from it all

I can tell that you’re aching

Like weary king saul


Walking like bodies

Dying in spirit and flesh

With so much potential

Exhaling each breath

Resting in my bed

Possibly forever alone

This has never scared me

Perhaps i’ve been turned to stone


The devil breaks my body

But he won’t claim my soul

Chewing at my heels

I take the bridge, and pay the toll

He walks around in circles

Lighting fires in an open field

Chanting that I am no good

Whispers love can never heal


Dark as the night water rushes in

And small as I know I am

I will take my shoes off

and in the blackland soil, I will stand

as the storm begins to near

My brown eyes will be set

Wrapped in what I know

Against what has not happened yet.


Etude of Four Homes


Photo Courtesy: Swedish National Heritage Board photostream

I long to live in a cottage by the sea

Built especially just for me

Where you have come, because all you want

Is to only be with me

We shall live

Overgrown with ivy green

In our own quaint cottage by the sea

While the waves lap

And the wind blows the salt against our skin

The water must refuse to settle

We, too, must continue on again

Then we shall live on a mountain

In the cleft that is hewed

Where we sing a hymn

Of me, you and blue

Safe from the hate and insults

Of the world

Hidden in our mystery cave

Where truth can be unfurled

When they pass by to find

We hold our breath and close

Hidden in a space

No one else ever knows

On a vessel, out at sea

Where there’s only what yet will be

We hoist the sails and batten hatches

to let ourselves roam free

Leaning gainst the edge of her weathered side

By day

Barefoot on the deck

By night

The whispers of God

Will redirect the mast

I count every shooting star

Sink next to you as moments pass

In a gypsy wagon, our home

With our wares and potions scattered round

Each night we stoke a fire

and let ourselves be lost and found

Characters pass by

We welcome them near

Some we hope keep moving

Others we forever hold dear

And as travel we through an earth

We don’t pretend to own

We will embrace uncertainty

Preparing for a distant home.


May 2013