your voice speaks volumes of memories gone by
who wouldn't like to hear your tunes and why

my voice is one of angels from far and wide
I don't wish to behind clouds hide

I have my own imagination on which I do rely
and I don't get to read others as a reply

those who have a voice of their own
never feel shy

and
in love of hope of being remembered never die

listen to my voice today
you may not get another chance anyway

I think of you
In the sleepy afternoon
I remember the flowers
Fluttering in the breeze
And your melody echoed
Reaching the depths
Of a soul deep asleep
Waking it from dreaming.

I think of you
When the sky from cerulean
Turns into gold
I recall the moments
When my gazes never settled
Until they found you
And my cheeks burned
Though I hated it,
My lips couldn't lie
For the smile never left me.

This time
which should be marked
by comfort , safety and new love
anticipation as well as appreciation
of new life
is not to be

Instead
within a chamber marked by blood
discarded trash, feces and crud
nature's system is derailed
by the invasion of a womb
for the hopeful? naught but doom

Dead soilders crunch under feet
Where stained bricks and alleys meet.
Pass along the paper bag,
Spark up a jack, take a drag.
Dime bags sold from corner stores.
Addicts, dealers, pimps and whores.
Living, dying, day by day.
No time for sleep where I stay.
Daily hustle on the flow,
Torn flyers read, "Just Say No!"
Born to this, I'll never leave.
No way out that I perceive.

Hey,you
I’m pouring out my soul
A simple glass wouldn't do

I will intoxicate
Your emotions
Until my tears
Fall from your eyes

I will recite my fears
Until your palms
Feel like they're drowning

Don’t you ignore me
No, you will learn
What’s its like
To wish silence could speak

You will fall to your knees
As if every prayer
Is a missed call
On God’s phone

I’m present
but absent
here
but gone away
body visible
spirit invisible
people talking
not listening
lost
private battle
need
to heal
hibernate

your verbal foreplay and
sweet voice
was too hard to
resist
I was "that wee bit special"
quite often you'd
insist

but not enough to win
your heart
not in the way that
mattered
I have to still your
sweetened words
before my heart
is
battered

you showed your love
for all to
see
and your heartfelt plea
brought tears
but as your words
sunk slowly in
they realised my
inner
fears

Webster's new Twentieth Century Dictionary describes a geste as a long tale of romance and adventure told chiefly in verse. This is the first canto in what for me has been eight years of composition and edit. The version here presented incorporates all of the suggestions offered me by my peers at Algonquin’s Table, The Poet’s Refuge and NeoPoet. A summary (in epic poetry tradition) precedes each canto. In them not only is the canto summarized, but new story is introduced. They serve together in the task of telling my tale.

I want to peel off
my skin.
Dig deep until
bone scrapes against
my weapon of choice.

Pull back the flesh.
Yank apart elbows.
Knees.
Collarbones glued to shoulders.

Stringy muscles and
fat.

Leave the skeleton
hanging on the laundry
line
until my marrow
is dry.

god found me
what was God doing
when I was being conceived

I came out as
a man
or woman deceived

I don't know

what made God games play

to let me in this world

in this funny way

what am I

I do not know

how do you think

God would remember so

they say heaven does know