This is a SILENT night--spinning round....and round

EMPTY...mocking...a twilight

fading with this awakening-

A madness-

SILENT DREAMING...

of a life holding onto

LOVE-

screaming-

a passion still fading away.

Beauty...bleeding-
a meaning too far for me to

BEILEVE- feeding-
something unreachable,
a desire not meetable

for my soul to thrive upon this-
alive within this-

DEMON-
possessed with a desire to win-
although-

winning is never an option,
because life is far forgotten,
in this carrousel lost in darkness,
round and round-not far from
DEATH-to love
DEATH-to life
DEATH-to freedom

YES--all freedom
DREAMING-

but never beileving....just empty.

Dear Old Lady~~Regional Winner-Live Poets Society

She is but a towering oak, whispering, swaying in the moonlight's gentle breeze.

Secrets, they lie buried beneath her, entangled among splitting, encircling limbs.

A heart,breathlessly immersed beneath her core, beating as one...an essential being not exposed to the war of the elements. Though they threaten her, whisper a scarnful demise, unscathed…she remains. She remains. Carefully protected, hidden away among the warmth.

Deep, in solitude she stands, holding as a shelter for one, a strong hold for the next. In no weakness can she fall...even man tests too insubstantial to tear her to pieces…not yet, not now. Even then she shall sing in the wind. Swaying, standing fierce among the blazing light.


She is but a whispering willow, poise and finesse streaming from the glassy water surrounding her. Looking down upon beauty alone, she flies upon her knowledge. Treasured leaves fall with an unceasing courage. Courage of knowing, feeling, that their mother, a mighty one, continues to protect them with her might

She IS but a solid monumental giant, nothing but pure awe in spite of the evil knowing at her. She is this beautiful creature of life, ever standing, ever true. The heart of all wonder, the keeper of life, keeping every piece of this world pondering.