Just fly’s of narcissist

Just the flinch of rejection or challenge

Rational departs and abandons infantile-ism

He’s left prattling away liken that of a little child

That is reading micro-cues thru rose colored glasses

On faces of those listening, pretending to make sense

Hoping to see what falsehood trips the trigger

that finally lulls them over, to his side…of lies.

Poet of the Light © 2019


Haphazardly, in the process of finding ourselves,

we can still get lost, become self-complacent.

Becoming far too consumed on one focal point

that we are more like some horse with blinders

just plodding along- while in our mind

believing we’ve just finally hit our stride

and more important, way out in front of everyone else.

Never even noticing we are the only ones in a race

and missing life and all the scenery along the way.

There is something to be said of an old adage,

of stopping to appreciate the roses along the way.

I’d prefer to be a horse in some pastoral setting,

roaming mountainous green meadows- unencumbered

than some cosmopolitan rat chasing…toxic crumbs.


Poet of the Light © 2019


There’s a thousand different ways

I could spin it, slant its effect

My version of what happened

But truth has a way of seeping out

Even in depictions we try to hide

From the world and ourselves

Only a fool would dare bother- now


It seemed a bit odd and yet

Fashionably accepting, for even us

Maybe even too accepting

To look forward to a bit later

Like hours later, each night

As being some quick triumph

And then again further onwards

As in like tomorrow morning

Being somehow the new summit

To aim for, to conquer if but only

In the space in our convoluted minds

As far as getting over- it all, again

While we steep- in muck


Maybe in some foolish respects

That kind of mess we lived

Replaced what we had- and lost

And thereby replaced reality

Any sense of normalcy or love

And getting from here to there

In love was all a bit more perfunctory

Like breathing, unnotably

In our most mundane of daily’s


Perhaps along our heart’s pathway

We lost what it meant to be us

What it meant to love one another

When we threw the compass overboard

And simply headed to new horizons

Braving those head on waves

Unconcerned of the weather or hunger

As our souls simply sought

To bestow something greater to another

Without concern of what we might gain

Lacking any fear of landing anywhere

Least of all- here, in this place- today


All I know now, was in that moment

When our ship of love went down

Was seeing your image swim away

Until you were merely a mirage fading

You- never looked back once

I’d bet my life you would, I would’ve lost

Oddly, I feel now as if I won


I clung on the mast, and our loves flag

As I choked on waves of bitter truth

My body, my mind slowly grew numb

Floating off in the tide’s changing currents

Almost as if I remained, in nights darkness

Never setting anywhere close to-a bit later

As if they were tiny islands of refuge

That we had become so accustomed to

Until the charity of a drier shoreline

Bequeathing granules of time, spilt over

Offered me a place far from the wreckage

Of that shattered little sailboat of- us

Where the illusion of love existed

Far more than reality of love…for one of us


Poet of the Light © 2019









Love- is not painful by nature

Human perversion does that

Taking away its unique beauty

In order to claim ownership

Of love itself, all that it derives

Crudely etching one’s inscription

Across some fabric of delusion


Pain itself is discreetly infused

When the enchanted emotions

Of love is discolored, then abused

Only those who wish to misuse love

Would dare promote its wreckage

As being a necessity in loves quest

When the truth is, love only- loves

And humans, well they do the rest


Lust is who wears that false face

The true thief, of human hearts

Boldly stealing what otherwise

It could never obtain- or touch

Dragging us all most unwittingly

Into depths of sheer darkness

After tethering our deep fears

Submerged, we’re wet embers


It is there, in that dark palace

Where we are left abandoned

Far from where love intended

And the only thing we dare rein

Is our own infected imagination

Whilst our hearts beat onward

Its distinct song in silent hope

Our true lover will come along

And rescue us and truth of…love


Poet of the Light © 2019





Heart: so vulnerable to unsuspecting attack

For me, what burns ghostly is loves implosion

As the grand delusion comes tumbling down

By mere incentive words or self-serving actions

And all those meticulous arches of support, shatter

In a smoky palace on the sandy soil thought a mountain

As cold and bitter river- comes rushing over; sorrowfully

We lay as ruins to waste away inside our own silence

There on the bottom, staring up as if blind and froze

Beneath all that once was thought to be our own reality

Ember ashes of a fire silting in muddy memory cast…of us


Poet of the Light © 2019