Innocence Restored

The innocent energy those baby blues held

still kept their vigor long after they faded to hazel-green.

It’s hard to recall the moment they became so wise,

those hazel eyes.  They now looked older than their years.

It often pained me to see such innocence lost.

I wondered if I could have stopped it and at what cost.

Then one day, his prey games took a fateful turn.

Instead of chasing for sport, not knowing what else to do,

he ate that baby bird, and drew the life right out of it, too.

Now when I search the depths of those vibrant eyes,

I see the youth restored to my favorite feline’s face.

My Head Was in the Clouds All Right

Dream-filled balloons sailed away that day.
I noticed that you forgot

to tie a note on the end
of each string.
How will they know what to do
when they reach their destination?
How will I ever reconnect
with the prophecy that fills each one
with such hope?

How could you turn your back

on my dreams? It seems
silly that I even have to ask.

Dancing in the clouds
without a care in the world;
high on hopes and hopes on high.
The sky’s the limit
(for the harm they may find along the way).

Pillow-talk: one’s been pierced
by Cupid’s bolt.
It's said that the fool’s bolt is soon spent.
Those Heartsease spread like wildfire, you know;
consuming everything in their path –
and that’s just for afternoon sport.

What will become of the one
sitting within the belly of the whale
shaped cloud? Will rebellion
reign or submission sustain?
An abortion? Birthed before its time?

There’s the one that got sucked into the right
wing engine fan at the wrong time.
It’s said that it was skinned beyond recognition,
save the shiny red string that to this day
flies at attention during every run.
A confetti still dancing

as it never got the note that the party’s over.

What about the others? I suppose I’ll never know.
I never dreamed I’d need a forwarding address
the day I felt so high
with my head in the clouds,
waving at my beautiful balloons as they traveled
away from me–

floating into someone else’s reality.

Table for One

She bought a bus ticket goin’ anywhere
Nighttime’s always the loneliest time

Walking the boulevard; she’s a shadow within the shadows
Blending into the darkness, she hopes to dull the awkwardness
Streetlights mock the nightlife just across the street
Happy faces headed toward intimate places;
their breadcrumb trail disintegrates
before it can illuminate the way

She ducks into the corner diner. “Table for one.”
Empathy’s out of fashion; the hostess rolls her eyes
Pulling out a book, she hopes to dull the awkwardness
Formalities skipped, the tension fills the air
Without a second to spare, the waitress jots the order
and retreats back to where the air isn’t so stale

One act down, the street envelops the shadow again
Any lounge will do: worn red carpet wins tonight
With a few drinks in her, she hopes to dull the awkwardness
The dance floor’s full, she knows she’ll blend in enough
So much time passes. The loneliness cuts like a knife
Licking her wounds, she’s about to call it a night

when she feels the warmth of a taker within reach
He tests the boundaries, at first without his hands
The exploration begins. Hands, lips, tongues inflame
Back rooms, back alleys: What’s the difference?
They’re all the same. Just another dark place of hiding
serving a higher power for hit-and-run relations

In an instant it’s over; she and her shadow reunite
Filled once again with emptiness, she’s hollow
All she ever wanted was to be loved
She boards the bus more broken than when she arrived
The darkness sinks his teeth in, releasing
bone-chilling venom that seeps deep
into the new cracks and settles in for the night

Ready to Explode

A little man resides inside me. 
He’s been confined to my mind 
for some time. Even my 
therapist agrees. Today, he’s escaped; 
he’s running amuck. What the… 
my air’s been cut off, and I think 
he’s ripped a hole in my heart. 
He’s wearing a path from my head 
to my heart. A burning rises; 
my throat’s on fire! Are those toxins 
cursing through my veins? I knew 
refusing the meds was a stupid thing 
to do. This torch runner’s crazed; 
he’s set my mind ablaze. I’m burning 
up here! Bubbling over, the steam’s 
consuming my screams. I want out!

It’s Always Winter Here

Bursting at the seams 

Exvibranimate 

Yet, it’s always winter here 

Buds of passion test the forecast 

Dorpeekmant 

While axis orbit skips another beat 

Shards of glass soil window-box garden 

Compermafrost 

The Snow Queen and her snow bees’ never ending rein 

Dying to bloom in due season 

Birdeath 

As frozen time and space paint
the smile on Jadis’ face 

A spark of hope that drop does make 

Isothermalite 

Yet day's short while bright; all’s cloaked in night

Coming or Going (Going Nowhere, revised)