A Wounded Bird


A Wounded Bird


Shapes of dark feathers perfectly aligned

against the sky marked a path south

where winter’s lips coldly kiss the clear night-

And your eyes tell me it is time

to spread wings and plan your flight

to new horizons where summer’s heat

will match your wish for freedom

while left behind in a drouth

of dreams a goodbye kiss-

And cold approaching fast reminds me

a promise made some time ago

when kisses fresh the excitement fed

in moments perfect for each other

and hoped my arms help you forget

a golden cage left open-

But now your eyes will look away

into a place your heart will hold

whereas my arms so frail and old

cannot embrace what you now seek,

so spread your wings

my wounded bird I will not speak

but let you go

to summer days awaiting you

while here I’ll stay in winter’s cold-


This poem was inspired by a dream. Dark hair tied into a bun, pale skin, pensive eyes she looked towards the sky where the birds flying south left a longing in her eyes. I knew then I needed to let her go. I woke up feeling sad with a sense of loss.

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”

― Leonardo da Vinci


So Brief



So Brief


So brief ‘twas love but lasting yearn

will clutch my heart,

the heavens feel of loving once,

the hellish pain of losing part

of what became my daily fare

of cherished eyes

that looked upon this nether man-

So brief her lips

that left me stained in crimson red

to paint my dreams

of Neverland

and brief her skin

that kept me warm in winter’s heart

and fed my crave.

So brief the nights of naughty sin

when lost I found in her a land

to house my grave,

eternal soul forever yearn

so brief ‘twas-


“How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”

― Sylvia Plath





I keep no trace of your pain

wounds can’t heal on ragged skin

or flesh denied of a touch

in blinding obsession tight shut.

Love most times runs downstream

becoming someone else’s dream

and pain remains deep inside

while I tender my own grief.

Knots were long ago untied

and may seem somewhat insane

that to live we must first die,

so I ask you to forgive

I keep not trace of your pain.






Lost in the brown of your eyes

I could have loved the impossibility you became,

watching the subtle beauty of your inner soul

as I strung desires from the skies

reflected on your dreams, dreams I stole

to set my love aflame-

Even now I wish I could have tasted

your life flavors, but wishes wasted

too late to such a life reclaim.

Now lost in the memory of your brown eyes

I yearn the possibility you became.






Do lips forget the path to follow?

I wonder if the yearn for passion ever pass,

the subtle need for a touch that lasts

an eternity, or so it feels like time

will drag the emotions I dryly swallow,

stealing life alone while I relive

the moment my lips against your skin

did find the path, and I outlive

desires kept within

in moments over time,

if lips forget the path to follow.






You became a ghost appeased by words left

drifting on forgotten pages, defining you

as I created a version within my heart.

And I lost you way back before I knew

your face would become dreams nested

in the sound of your voice late at night,

your words quickly becoming a part

of what love is made of, and I lost you

quietly as your ghostly presence became

embedded in the words written before

morphing into fading pixels just the same

as I fade into a life where I am no more.






You make me wish time had no meaning

counting life by the passing of days

and won’t dare, reality weights heavy on me

and your smile only offers a hint, dazed

by your dreams of forever

while mine stuck in a time that will never

satisfy such desire to become

wild and young,

within dreams that you carefully weave.