dearest ones


dearest ones

dear soldier. thanks for the rescue and for loving a broken thing.

dear artist. thank you for singing my name. for making me hear it again.

dear writer. thank you for writing my name and making me see it again. for dreaming up stories and rewriting mine. and ours. for endless streams of words that cut to the bone, mend the flesh and bind the heart. for ink on paper. for iron and heart in a final cast.


dancing ion


dancing ion

Gliding the snow

Soaring the sky

Swimming the deep

A True Gemini


Heart of Deep

Mind of Glass

You could not keep

You stayed in the past


A thousand sorry’s I wish I’d said

A thousand I love you’s 

Unsaid in my head


Mother, fighter, Iron heart

You did well

You did your part


You were a half-moon

You were a monsoon

You are a dancing Ion

A dandelion


vice grip


vice grip

the vice grip pulls a little more

from the other side

its hold is hot and full of bile

all secrets here hide

squitting like a dog, kicked to many times

roadkill in the fog

 i resist but then i slide


the one is shorter

than the other half

not only in the body

but also in the heart


i take a step toward the water

but the foot has left the leg

i fall into the fire like the fools daughter

it laughs, i laugh

then i beg


i crawl from underneath it

see a glimpse of myself

i reach to touch my fingers

i feel, i feel, i felt


release is what i long for now

i would prefer to forget

no matter the price

i would pay the happy debt

to rid this vessel of this pain

this pain that does not moove

nor change nor bend


the bark and the tree


the bark and the tree

just You and me, your devotee

close as the bark and the Tree


your secret keeper

your daughter, yet deeper


you were all of everything

all the songs I dreamed to sing


You gave your self as did I

surely, none of this could ever Die


yet here You are not, and I thought I was there

to whom shall we allot the most solitude to bear


I wish it was translucently clear

You are the wound most raw and dear


all that is seen is the dark hole we Both left

the truth is that it too was a theft


i wish it were simpler, much less complex

not this empty tormenting mess


for the longing is much but most of all

simply an unexpected phone call


the question hangs, who is to blame

a mountain of unanswered…let’s just say game


for sparing feelings and hiding pain

is the game we play, again and again


thing is


thing is

 thing  is


isn’t  that bad

shouldn’t be sad


the things said

made of air and lead

as iron melts

on a psyche dead


first ears then heart


go away go away

things said are true today


a joke this is! laughable?

the whole lot? all of it!

a joke of time, heart and spit?


where is the sound

their are no laughs

perhaps lost all senses

perhaps lost all past


everyone knows

it’ll eventually lose it


life and living

delicate dreams

caring and carrying

balancing bullshit


everyone knows it

it’s going to drop it

thing is

it knows

it’ll probably brake it


as simple as strings

how hard it clings

thing is

it knows

it’ll probably erase it


hearing hears as hearing hears

breaking is as breaking brakes

does it smell like vanilla or packaged drops

of stifled words and aching rocks


an iron pot

of pop rocks and rot


can one fix a wooden heart?

perhaps if it knew where to start

a potion maybe? too many already



it has not yet lost

still intact

firm as frost


thing is

it still loves you see


it still hears, breaks and spits


it will try and try

to not to knot

brake, damage, loose or drop


it will try to carry

try to care

till it dies

of ache or air


when you went


when you went

when you went

any preparation I foolishly thought I might have

no matter how perfect or imperfect we were

no matter the time lost

no matter the distance in space or heart or mind

a black hole swallowed me whole

to a place with no time

were no reason exists

regardless of circumstances


regardless of any pain of any kind

regardless of everything that was and everything that was not

nothing compared to the torment

of the realisation that


I could not get into my car and drive to your door

and be loved by you once more