been told

long gone and never foretold
a room and the ash for the sea
what could be said of my mind
will I have done enough kind
how will my story be told definitely
by friends or in files filled disproportionately
codes from clerks and illegible notes in pages
from fifteen minute dealers certainly not sages
how will such things be sold
times when I was harshly told
be quiet,  just sleep! why can't you be still?!
reports that bureaucracy insists to instill
or lovers that met to quicken then to a quick end
is this on whose hands my work will depend
after all that must repeats to then unfold
in a room with no view so still again again was told
acquaintances we had barely seen
are they the ones who know what I mean
how will my story be told
after all that must does unfold

still

if I could only make my heart stop
let all these ills be forgot
I know what I am is little I know what I am not
how long how long again until this heart stops
when will this breath and beat drop
so long that taste it sours as the cup does fill
how will I cut this bitter swill
by all these lies distilled
when wronged by reckless will
in sleep I tried to trick the clock instill
when will when will how very long until
I can at last go fast to slow lie still

in clover

in the brightest of sunlit days,
before the first snow;
we must let some things lie,
so that others may grow.
wild flora... in clover and vine;
blooming bushes that baffle to flower,
in what seems for some -
but is not, our darkest hour.
to our surprise some things gone never pass.
they are resting in waiting and come spring eternal-
return from same root, then rise above, a new body amass.

trap

a layman and fool though ordained
falters with sacred truths not well maintained
and fortunes lost not honest gained
will have lies come to light blood stained

a sword, a sword...  by such words you swore
I never met a liar like you before
how some o'er others, a pious plagiarist they adore
wicked nets are set, they will fall through the trap door

reckless

sometimes hope allowed is reckless and dangerous;
best intentions through affection's eyes at first adventurous.
not so innocently as months pass then much affectation we see,
how some o'er other some forget while one still feels deep quietly.
through passages we learned it's best not to hold on;
more battles won than lost still I was never all that strong.
strange how some are made to fulfill a place,
forever broken resilient, the wounded born to mend the race.

to believe in you or any of this as recompense,
no longer any wisdom found allows it enough sense.
as time sways, people smile and lives move on,
some speaking prayers desperate it won't be long,
when in both heart and mind you can forgive,
the way without dissemblance, the choice I made to honorably live.
my faith remains since I was born with plenty evidence,
perhaps in this case these moments were mere coincidence.

though was my decision to, evasively, part ways-
without derision, you are what's on my mind, punitively, most days.
pardon my tongue, insult is never the original invention;
for on these pages, does one give as they get, so much attention?
my efforts and potions fail- I can not help how I was made,
to friend, falter fast, and empath of the highest hallowed grade.
from a far place will come a time, when we will see, you I he she them, like any-
of the same clay cast, kindred mold, from the same hand, trine and midheavenly.

true

for many years in a historic time,
He was only thought divine
by a few who believed in the trine.
this nation viewed Him as a heretic;
and those ruled by Roman politic,
did forsake and with a cheap trick-
by one they thought was a True Believer,
who turned his back to be the worst deceiver.
at the table still painted paired as a foremost receiver.
instead of a woman with steadfast visage last;
tears now speak and give rise to more than outcast-
she the one whose sails remain on the strongest mast.
not small creatures, but for Man, hard to tell in days to come.
the swan, the dove - can not speak but know the one,
who counts the clouds with no rest yet never undone;
and as an alien will rise to set free the Sun.          

echoes

this voice within that becomes an omniscient vision;
no different than yours also part of my mission.
from the corners of a round earth,  in mid heaven, the seven seas...
every blade of grass, the dirt, the air breathed through the leaves...
many of us have these professed sentient guardians in our midst, 
but foolish are those to think it is a love triangle or personal tryst.
if I do, mine are not from princes charming or romancing;
for thine stings with sharp tongue, and dreams are stopped from advancing.
they still my heart, yank me close to hear clear, so I make no mistake -
know that I am small but what they demand is great.
they command with eternal thunder, echoes so loud;
do this work humbly, dear child, we keep watch, dare not be proud.
but unlike for you, sweet child, it does no matter what I need,
they simply turn the other cheek each time I die to lead.