Sophia, and Days Not Yet Passed

If you’re reading this, I’m already dead.

My dear Sophia, even now I miss how the refracting rays of sunlight illuminate your fiery red hair, and your beautiful brown eyes that look with so much understanding upon the suffering and the weak. It has…

“The Barren Landscape of a Soul’s Dream” or “Shadow Mirror”

The Sad soul never weeps,
Though tears may fall from her eyes.
The joy and the sorrow acknowledged as one,
Yet the tongue cannot utter a single word.
Life shows no(w) mercy to the wounded -
Those lives marred with streaks of…

I Want You to Know

I want you to know.
It may be pessimism,
Or realism — whatever that means –
But I want you to know that human beings don’t want to be free,
They want to be comfortable.

The Diary of Manuel St Pierre # 3 — The Dream of Eden

Last night I had a dream.
I have heard of a lost place, a garden called Eden,
And recently I’ve been obsessed with it.
Perhaps it may offer some refuge to my plight and to the world.

Lily — Part I

“So, any recent ‘activity’?” His voice was grainy.

The Tempest (A Raucous Silence)

Upon the rocky shore of Tempest’s wake,
And o’er the high sea cliffs of yesterday’s dream
I sleep.
Sleep in solitude and strength,
Tempered by fear and chaos.
This night — oh, long night –
I shall never forget,
But upon the breath of newborn babes.

The Calamitous Ecstasy of Robert Finch -or- A Dream So Dreary

The plains of fire sweep down upon me,
Burning away sin and shadow.
But what upon this dreary hour,
May be said to be left of me to burn?

One Month Gone

It was early November and multi-hued fallen leaves lay strewn and clumped in mounds, leaving their homes nearly barren, giving the skeletal trees the appearance of reaching to the sky as if petrified in prayer at the moment of death. One might even say it seemed as if the trees themselves were…