Tag Archives: Joy

Infinite Smile of Love Accepting

From birth,

Inside each of us burns a desire,

An ever growing and rapidly expanding light,

That seeks to create bliss in others,

As a pay it forward,

Such fire that burns brighter than the suns of every solar system,

And emanates from every fibre of our being,

Initially we are dumbfounded by it,

Trying to play catch up with those grown things we see around us,

Supposed adults that act like children,

While WE children,

Seek to profess universal truths,

With giggles, glowing eyes and radiating glances,

Beaming to every corner of the cosmos,

Every planet, far and wide,

Every island, old and newly forming,

Adorning in our hearts,

A compassion that seems lacking as we get older,

But herein lay the good news,

While we must age,

We do NOT have to grow up,

Nor should we…


Don’t judge; embrace the difference in others,

Don’t hate; for it is merely ignorance dressed up as anger,

Don’t yell; improve your argument,

Don’t fear; we are all here for you,

Don’t hide; you are meant to stand out.

You see,

The trouble is,

My beautiful child,

Sweet, innocent, lovely and resplendent baby,

Too many adults forgot how to be children,

But not me,

And I truly hope, for you,

And for the world,

That knowing people like your awe inspiring mother,

(who know kids like me),

You hold onto all that greatness inside you,

Remembering every step, walk and then run of the way,

You were born out of a boundless,

Interminable and stunning natural truth,


We are not alone in this world, or this universe,

(as yet unproven but nonetheless true)

And we can not, must not try to replace natural law,

With our arrogant human folly,

As grown ups for countless millennia have done,

You, are not an island,


You are,

But that is another matter,

For Celtic wisdom and Gaelic ancients to explain to you,

(and they will, trust me)

In their time,

This is our time,

Two kids,

One young,

The other younger,

Exploring the dynamic and rapidly evolving landscape,

Of love repeating.

My precious and beautiful love,

In your eyes I see my own soul reflected,

I see the promise of another child,

Who like me,

Will choose to remain a child,

That will burst from the pack,

Be a leader, by example,

In an extraordinary explosion equal to,

If not greater than the big bang,

(and someday you’ll understand just how much I see in you),

For every promise of our forefathers and foremothers,

The greatness of our ancestors lives within you,

You have the power,

To breathe,

To see,

To hear,

To touch,

To create,

To become who and what you want to be,

Guided by the externalities of those who love you,

And the internalities,

Of locked caverns inside of you,

That you have no need to ever explain to anyone,

You were born out of a love repeating,

L O V E,

You were born to design a manifest destiny for your own reasons,

A meaning and purpose built by your own passions,

Thus ensuring,

Love will be repeating,

And many years from now,

When I recite these words to you,

Still, as a kid, one young, the other younger,

I hope that you will remember these words,

Natural law and universal truths,

And maybe, luckily,

Cause my belief that,

Non Omnis Moriar,

When explaining to your love repeating,

Why these words were born,

Your words,

Yours alone,

(though I trust you don’t mind I have unleashed this force of love).




Preordained to ascend to prominence,

I carry the joy of your radiating spirit with me,

Now and ever more,

For the moment I laid eyes on you,

I knew,

I saw the future,

And yours is a force that no man, woman or animal may stop,

Yours is a future,

Where love repeating,



Will replace the resounding sound of armies marching,

Machines plundering,

And truly the iniquity of man,

My sweet and beautiful escape,

These words are yours,

And if I ever find myself stranded on a desert island,

I will never be ALONE,

For having seen a joy,

A destiny,

Of love repeating,

And I am humbled by your shine.


PS. Listen to Mommy and Daddy. They may not know everything but they do know a lot. Tell them the truth no matter how hard or scary it is. READ everything you can get your hands on. QUESTION EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE. BE YOURSELF.

Nosce Te Ipsum.

And know this, I am always here for you. Non Omnis Moriar.







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Nothing More

In spite of the challenges,

Both real and imagined;

Bipolar realities of immense consequences,

The hope  is temporarily muddled,
Somehow, the Ether allows me the trespass,
Of these words,
Those become my mental temptress,
Outwardly manifested for you,
While inwardly struggling,
Some of sorrow,
Others of joy,
Some of delight,
While others still of pain,
Nothing more nor less,
This truth presented,
Without pretense,
At the very least none intended,
For you to see,
Can you feel this subjugation I encounter daily?

Worshipping at the syllables that make these words;

Bowing down to the thoughts,
Those force my sublimation,
Still finding the will to fight,
To carry on,
To continue this journey of greatness intended;

In spite,

Of those challenges;

For I know no other way,
I know no other means,
Fighting for my survival,
Hoping that someone out there,
Can feel this pain and find meaning in their own,
Perhaps to paint,
Make pottery,
Take a picture,
Or write words just like these;

Moreover, for those that will cast aspersions at me,

Know this,
Fully and without equivocation,
Due to you,


I will move on,
As will you,
I will press on,
As will you,
I will reemerge victorious,
All the while searching,
For a better me,
And you a better you,
Or perhaps you will still live in fear,
However, I will find,
The one I am,
All the while knowing,
That no matter my flaws,


Comedy and tragedy,
(the same be true for you)
That out there somewhere,
Toiling in the Ether,
Is a woman,
Who with nothing more than a smile,
Can free me,
Liberate me,
From this burden,
And maybe,
Just maybe,
I believe deep down,
That she may hold the key,
Mon Cle,
Mon Key,
To finally accepting,
As what I am,
A writer,
A teacher,
A lover,
A husband,
A father,
And a truly dedicated liver of life;

And nothing more.

Or perhaps much, much more!


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The Me I Already Am

Slave to my own impediment,

I could not break free from myself,

I could not or would not see,

The delicate beauty that rest inside my baby blues,

Instead seeing the fiery damnation,

Of an overworked mind that knew not,

How to find inner piece, (intentional in search of that elusive sentence)

Until I let go,


This year, by far the hardest, of my thirty eight years,

Thirty eight years?

That never knew real joy,

Thirty eight years?

Those have seen ups and downs,

Been hit sideways more times than I care to admit,

Leaving me,



Unable to face myself in the mirror,

Or the mirror of myself,


My eyes,

Unleashing a terrible fright,

That even the voices in my head could not combat;

Bellicose Hemingway and intrepid Fitzgerald,

No Whiskey wisdom,

Nor Vodka insight,

Could release me from this personal hell,

That crippled my body,

Yet infuriated my mind to action,


You erroneous fool,

You must,

For no one else than you,

Can, nor will,

Starting with a heaping helping of forgiveness,


For things that I had no control over,

And that I cannot change,


Find personal redemption in a kiss,

A beautiful kiss,

Your kiss,

Finally arrived finding the ability,

This ability to love myself,

In ways I never thought possible,

And always just out of reach,

Avoiding at every turn,

What it meant to be me,

What it means to be me,

Wanting so desperately the love of others,

That I let go of me,

Wanting the deep satisfaction of emotions requited,


There was none behind that door,

Only a black dog that still beat me down,

Beat me,

Like a private and evasive whipping boy,


Though none can see,

Invisible scars,

A pickle that is beyond explanation,

For who could understand,

Certainly not you,


And yet here we are,

Understanding, or at least attempting to find,



I no longer require outside reinforcement of who or what I am,

For only I can explain that truth,

Only I can live the truth I have known since I was a child,

I must live it,

And finally,

I have started to corral this furious beast,


And constantly misguided,

Putting a leash on my black dog,

I am on the road,


Toward the me I already know I am…

Finding as I do,

That love,

Love always finds a way!



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The Importance of Muse (4)

Until you,
Seemingly wolves in sheep’s clothing appeared,
Devouring me from within,
When I should have been,
Sirens with majestic voices,
Calling out like muses in the night,
Stars in my sky,
Alchemist trickery,
Deflowering my own genesis,
Drawing me ever nearer,
To an Escher like Nirvana,
Illusive and never ending,
An optical illusion delivered by all senses,
Making no sense at all,
And there was you,
Who with an enchanted smile,
Divine eyes
And a disarming personality revealed to me the folly of my ways,
Fool to Sirens calling,
As if, in a lifelong daze, I was stuck in a riddle I could not solve,
The enigma of Oracles, Sages, Poets and Lovers alike,
The passion kindled, kindling, those alight a flame so filled with desire,
It dampens the sun
And brightens the moon,
Reflected in the dancing glaze of your surprise,
That in that moment and this,
You and I both can see,
Hear, feel, smell, taste and
Know what until now has eluded us,
My sweetest temptation
And my most dangerous aspiration,
For at once you inspire the beauty in truth
And yet the fear of the unknown,
Nevertheless having an abiding faith in the unseen,
That great anonymous that now in you, Muse,
Has both a face and a name,
And I am forever changed by your grace.

Until you,
I have dreamed of your arrival,
Feeling the betrothal of your spirit a time or two before,
Knowing since my birth you would appear,
But not like this,
Not like now,
Holding your hand,
Feeling the impulses of your soul,
Wanting to entreat your pain
And make it mine own,
Entreat your covert undiscovered recesses,
Hidden even from you,
Becoming illuminated by the light which shines from me,
Because of you,
No longer a hypothesis or some ill conceived notion,
But instead,
The very embodiment of everything I have ever sought,
Finding faith in your smile,
Delivered from my own demons,
Every voice inside my head pointing me in one direction,
Unlike those Sirens beckoning my destruction,
You have unleashed my creation,
Finding anew the strength to profess my conviction,
That this,
THIS is not fiction,
These words dancing across your eyes,
Your eyes dancing across my soul,
Bold and intense,
In all that I see in you,
Hiding behind that thin veil,
The walls that have been carefully constructed,
That I now long to piece apart,
One missive expression of joy and shadowed bliss at a time,
No longer cryptic,
For I have unearthed the answer to your question,
Yet herein I will fight,
For you,

Until you,
How could it be,
That I could be so confused,
Blinded by a lifetime of refined repression,
Intent on projection,
Rather than the true expression,
Of what now seems so obvious,
Until you,
I was like a rough diamond,
Or perhaps a diamond in the rough,
Waiting for the polish of your vision,
To let me see my own worth,
Unleashed by your smile,
Your eyes,
Inviting me to a netherworld,
Neither real nor imagined,
But perhaps supposed,
Although now I know,
I know,
Until now,
I have waited for this moment to find that mate,
With whom to share my everything,
The good, the bad and the ugly,
Unraveling in each of us,
The tightened knots of our struggle to survive,
Where now I can see,
We two,
Can thrive.

Your importance,
Can never be underrated,
Will never be understood,
As aloof,
I sit here,
Physically miles apart,
While our souls are clearly colliding,
And I know faith,
For once,
For bringing you,
To me,
No longer the Siren song,
But instead Muse’s,
A lifetime of songs we two to share,
I sit here longingly awaiting,
Your triumphal return,
To me,
And a life,
Of inspiration, dedication, passion and desire,
We on fire,
Just as when our eyes met
And the electricity flowed through our veins,
Hands held,
Directly to our hearts,
With possibilities,
That soon will become,
Daily returns,
To love.

Return to Sender.


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Lunatic Fringe – A Departure from the Norm

Now examined! And LIVING!

Now examined! And LIVING!

Thoughts like a piano’s keys filter through both my conscious and subconscious, striking a chord that only the demons of my own creation can hear. Flittering fingers plucking the keys of my own discord, disquieted, frightened, the black and ebony reminiscent of an Icelandic tribe. In this case, ebony representing good memories and black representing bad. My black cup runneth over while the ebony is so difficult for me to enjoy as the darkness reigns.

Though I fear I am without control as they filter through me like blood, water, neurons firing and synapses attempting shock therapy. Temporary relief from memories that deviate from that thin line.

The deprivation of sleeps causing hallucinations of the most horrible originations. Apparitions that beckon me to death, a death I die a thousand times or more daily, as I struggle with the infinite and the quantum. It does not get easier, as I age, as more questions mount and the answers become more reticent.

A less than subtle requirement  for this fractured mind to put itself back together again only to discover that the final piece is missing. Where is that piece? What is that piece? As I throw my Black Dog a bone I am left to consider more than a poetic soul should have to bear. Though I do. I cry out to Apollo, God (He/She/It/They), Oracle, Prophets, where pray tell is my burning bush?

A nightmare, the nightmare, nightmares that harm my own personal recollection of self. Reflections on Reflections.

Mirror images of a life once lived but in the pursuit of the joy of others where now there is no joy that I can submit. For no longer will I subjugate my own self-preservation so that another may soar. It is my turn to allow these apparitions and nightmares to guide me, freeing me, to unleash a furious torment of words that dance across your eyeballs like Fred and Ginger. Those same words that handcuff me like an as yet prosecuted fool.

When at the witching hour, the stroke of midnight, I’m yet to become anew the pumpkin that cradles me and prevents the world from the stringy innards of a dastardly conviction to which you are not a party. No. The spirits of my ancestors and the voices in my head, press me forth, through dialogues that would confuse even the most wise of sage, unnerve even the most prolific of prophets and may in fact be the desecration of the godly appreciation of all that I hold dear.

Or maybe, just maybe, this is the lunatic fringe of my own self awareness as I trod ever closer to the demise of sanity, slipping into a world where I am no longer king but instead jester, holding court over my own self. I and I and I agree for once though my fingers will continue…

To flicker.

And flicker they have. Leading me back to life. Leading me to a land far, far away from home, to find a new home, a place where I belong, a place where I can truly live and not merely exist.

Freed now from the torment of pharmaceutical intervention and instead liberated by the triumphant power of requited love. Given back my life in the most unexpected of ways. By you, those children, those that have released me from a lifelong burden of sorrow.

While the bitch still barks, and is black as night, I have reason, meaning and purpose and this has given me back my life and I am living it. No longer afraid. No longer hiding in the corner but instead standing on a soap box teaching the most wonderful life lessons that I have learned to those that need it most. The next generation.

So while the night is long and the terror is real I am pleased beyond measure to admit that the fringe of this lunatic, while still intact, has harnessed his potential and found the will to carry on, at all costs, for those who hold me dear.


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Overheard in a Lovers Quarrel

They didn’t know…
But I was listening,
I could hear every heavy word,
As she sheltered her eyes from view,
I blushed,
As he proclaimed his love,
Thinking to myself,
What does this Neanderthal know of love,
The way he berates her,
I would not do that to you…
Don’t you know?

They didn’t know…
But I was listening,
Her sobs like knives in my punctured soul,
As I wanted to reach out to her,
I longed to reach out to her,
Letting her know,
Love can be another way,
Love is another way,
As he proclaimed that he didn’t know why he’d done it,
I wondered,
Why does any person act this way,
Shattering the joy of love,
With empty words,
That cannot reconcile,
With his actions,
Don’t you know?

They didn’t know…
But I was listening,
Her eyes reddened by this ripe cancelation,
Divorce imminent,
Torment riddled existence,
As she asked herself why,
Though there would be no answer,
There could be no answer,
With me,
You would not need an answer,
For I am loyal,
Don’t you know?
They didn’t know…
That as I listened I was cringing,
Taken aback by the abandonment of love,
The abandonment of her,
For the momentary gain of lust,
He claimed it was an accident,
He claimed it meant nothing,
He claimed it was a one time thing,
And I still cringed,
As there was nothing,
That could subtract her pain,
In the addition of another,
Meaningless or not,
Don’t you know?

They didn’t know…
As he stepped up from the table,
Paying the bill,
That I knew,
I was there,
I witnessed this terrible break in her reality,
And I knew,
As she lifted her head with untapped strength,
There would be no way to reconcile,
This ‘meaningless’ indiscretion,
She didn’t know,
That love, real love,
That can be everything,
Makes no excuses,
Don’t you know?

And I wished,
I could outstretch my hand and my soul,
To take away her pain,
With real love.


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