A Struggle With Love

Wanting to stand before the Parthenon
and listen to the wind as it pass and gone.
Wanting to peer down to the lowest depth,
while looking from the highest step

Wanting to pull the pillars down
and listen to birds make their sound.
Wanting the sky to stop falling,
while a new birth come calling.

Wanting to be a triangle
and show three sides of one angel.
Wanting to stand before the gods,
while receiving unanimous nods.

Wanting to stop the Pain
and be able to read once again.
Wanting stop filling my life with dread,
while watching her wings spread.

Wanting not to struggle with love
and whose beauty summons a write from above.
Wanting no longer be in vain of lust,
while I give her my love to trust.

Lost Treasure

written April 2010

Long hours, one helluva ride,
but beard, beer at his side.
not complex, not perplexed,
Just goes through the day,
with out ill effects.

Battered hands, shallow eyes,
but beard, beer at his side.
He does not watch the news
He does not sing the blues
12 cans, so cool so fresh.

The world views what he hides,
but beard, beer at his side.
He owes no man, He owns no land.
Tall with buttons down the length,
Years of joy but lay underneath.

Although lonely they cry,
but beard, beer at his side.
He reads, but nothing true,
boots with scars, worth a view.
A treasure that is you.

"The Cloaked Figure"

I thwart toward the sands of time.
As the cloaked figure glldan across the seas,
With air and water.
I peered at thee,
His hEafod, smeart as thy.

The world seemed to crum,
Around his fOt.
The sheer strength of the man in foliage,
Possessed me to disfacere.
Thy hEafod turned only to be,
The cloaked figure that glldan across the sea