Poetry

in the desert, beyond sunset, I construct a silver boat by my heart with the blood that runs through it
for you, this I have made; though now not used, forever beside you
the sand looms in large dunes, the sun beats upon all, relentless in it's persuit of darkness
but you say "where are we?" as a whisper in my ear
you say "what are we" as a flicker in my eye
you say "who are we" as a pulse in my mind
you say "why are we" as a truth in my heart
It is the heart that stays beside the silver boat, for it knew the future
as you lay in the desert, alone, exhausted from heat, you look beside you and see nothing
but the silver boat is there, and it sees you
with its shining bow, you know
It cradles you in its protection of what is to come, denying the sun its prize
denying the world of revenge for us having been in it.
While the desert attempts its consumption, I stand forever away
knowing your pain, knowing your need
Then my heart pulls the strings to my mind
and my mind pulls back with it's own intent
The tension makes something small appear at the corner of my eye
At first they are conservative, and I try to resist
but the heart knows better.
The heart pulls the strings ever harder until the tear becomes a drop,
so heavy with its own tension that it falls to the ground, to the sand, to the desert.
So small at first, until all resistance is gone, to the point where it is clear I must trust my heart.
Then the tears become larger, falling ever faster at my feet.
I look down to find a puddle forming, then an oasis; but it does not stop.
The river flows from my eyes, and every tear is for you
until it stops.
But the desert is now an ocean, turned by the unstoppable force known as the heart.
And now you float.
On your silver boat,
made by my heart,
straight back to me.

When sunset glitters
in an eye across a soul,
ocean's waves impart a song to see.

And for every wave that touches the shore,
and for every grain that became sand,
and for every light's magic,
we see their music.

Adjacent to an aroma of the flowers
are the charismatic flavors of a dance
so the taste of life imbues our perceptions
and water falls like feathers
that silently crash upon us.

A quickening breath spent catching dreams,
not realizing we were awake,
running from monsters that we found to be teddy bears
because we are now the dream's master.

We know now that it was never a dream,
it was real all along.

To fly in a dream is easy.
Here,
not in our minds,
not in our daydreams,
but in our *real* lives,
it was impossible to know it was not a dream,
for we are still flying . . .

I live in your shadows, even when there are none from the way you shine.
I live in the whispers when you are alone.
I live in your heart, whatever speed it beats.
Time and space mean nothing to me,
I am forever.

@};-

-Troy-

Colossus world, beginning mine
then the sun landed,
a blinding sight for my eyes.

The world grew smaller.

Time passed, and neighbors laughed
a vision verity, saw past
evening shade,
envied blade,
night graves . . .
gave way
to sandy strands
sunset bands
and holding hands.

The world grew smaller.

Toes tickling still water,
talking midnight dreams
on water's edge.
Wishing to stay, "forever", she said.

The world grew smaller.

Long strings attached
to puppeteers aback
I cut the strings
to make the sun free
with never a regard
as to what it would do to me.

The world grew smaller.

Now the sun is away
but shines so brightly
it cannot sway
from my vision
from our fission;
from my thoughts,
from this may.

The world grew smaller.

I stand tall upon a surface
that I thought was the world
that dwindled from monumental
and became unfurled
to show tiny "I"s, "me"s, and "my"s
but the truth sometimes lies.

Because the world did not grow smaller,
it was I that grew larger,
my sight farther
and my heart warmer.

But I did not grow out, or apart,
I grew *with* the sun's heart.

Never to forget every moment,
made, had, and to be;
Our world is our everything,
and my world is everything to me.

If panic attacks, if you're lost at sea,
if you're ever alone, if you don't feel free,
let the sun remember me.

And this, the truth I know;
like a blanket with two strands,
purled
You, the sun, will never set, because
to you, the sun, I say,

You're my world.

@};-

-Troy-

the heart feels it created the mind

We are the legacy of minutia; fantasies of an imagined thought realized by love being brought to fruition. In the moments between our soliloquies, delusions, and woolgathering gazes to a clear blue sky, let us preface our mimed intellect with gratitude and love the one that gave us our life's beginning; for it was their love anyway.
On a day for our Mothers.

I shine
when your eye shines,
looking upon me.

Like thyme on simplicity
with time upon felicity
angels sing.

Floral aromas
grace a button nose
But what knows?
So sweet.

Standing upon a knife
wearing familiar names
combing manes
taking blame.
The shame!

We all hear your melody
in the tune of our felony
But the beat is complex
as convex
for what is the song of a sunrise?

I point to you through a sunset,
dragging its light on the broken caps of crests;
never did three things so resplendent queue;
shall not they never again

I can count forever
for never
The essence lasts
perpetual more
An illusion passes
above head
A foot below
the storm door

"Deliver a smile", said the bonnet of an immortal
replied with a frown did the pith of torture
Now, never, again, before
words without meaning anymore

She burns to ashes
a flash that ails me
And in the night, shines bright
a totem of humanity
Alive with our eyes closed
and speaking without voices
telling one tale
once and twice are our choices.
Writings of a city
of a place
of a time
full of grace
buring embers
amongst the cinders
obvious,
in their snow covered Decembers

Pointing at the blue moon in the night sky
past a mocking cloud the wind moves aside
Savor ten moments and tears of those who've cried