Canto Nine ~ It has been nearly a week and Gundhag has finally sent the boy back to the battlefield for the young mother’s corpse.
The storm persists as he runs with characteristic speed to obtain her. The man he had imprisoned has escaped him, but as with all things in his chaotic mind he no longer gives thought to it. That a bewildered form of destiny had caused their paths to cross, and with the crossing possible revelation as to his ever hidden reality, has been shelved in the fearful corners of his self taught insanity.

Life never seems simple
Every day I fake dimples
To bury a secret
So no one can read it
If I could
You know I would
I am about to break
And you just take and take
I don't need peace
When you take pieces
Of me
Please don't turn out the light
Everything is not... alright
Life is a race
I cannot keep the pace
People ask what I am doing
But I am not sure where I am going
People think I am flying
On the inside I am dying
This is my knife
Deep into my life

This.
And that you love me.
Even just that you are.

That you see softness and then it is.
That you lay down and I sleep.
That you are happy and so, I am.

You are.
And that you love me.
Like this.

cool down man

you can't make everyone
listen!
many like me are
deaf and blind
in search of one
none can find

so leave your temper
far behind,
take God
out of your mind

cool down!

but you can't prohibit
poetry
that god alone does define
the critiques here
may refine....

Why this anger
I wonder
who so ever does
blunder
will get their share
why do you alone
about the unknown
so much
care...

cool down!
man!!!

mother scrubbed minds
gleaming halos of godshine
seen by no one
but fellow travelers
on the path of sheepy knee walk
grinning at the alter of a butcher,
giving thanks
for their divine lobotomies

strands of ideals
glisten ridden
upon the shoals
the hidden
tides
fishing

complimentary and pure

dipped in crescent notions
full of crespula reaching
bathed luxuriant and bare

a millenium breadth
spray fed and touched
an evening aura

worn in depths
smooth swept

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

when I pour out my thoughts
into that cup in front of you
I expect for you
to take every signal
I've decanted there

Take it sip after sip,
inhale its essence,
feel its bitterness
or sweetness,
appreciate the presence
of any additional scents,

Then tell me,please
how do you like it,
is it your cup of tea?

I have been watching

as the tendrils of life

drift off and away

casting shadows

on her soul

in a waning light

I felt the touch of faith

nails indented my knees

and palms, now laying down

I feel my heart shift

into a peaceful stillness

slowly it started

sliding in a sepia light

I now held her hand

tracing the infinity symbol

into her palm

now we silently wait

as death dances in the shadows

She stared her in the eyes
Not backing down
All the attemps before
Failed
Not this time
Of this she was sure
With an akimbo Stance
She made her stand

"Here we are again
Doing the same dance
The same song
All my life
Doing nothing but holding me back
Keeping me from success
And I
I've always been finding excuses
Any reason
To keep the blame from you
But I can't go on
Not like this
Not anymore
Not if I can help it