The Gates…

I am death, covered

by the blood of life’s

victims, the peace

loving, the innocent

and the brave, silenced;

they lay with me here

in the grave.

The living stands in cold

silence, regret, moans on

every breath, living souls

that cannot keep away

the fear of death.

In the voices of life, there

could be heard prayer,

prejudice and dismay;

whether hate or fate, all is

now with me at “Heaven or

Hells” gate!






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The Affair… (Micropoetry)

A silhouette in the darkness walking away,

the other remains in the shadows believing

love exists.  The dread of parting hangs

heavily in the air.  A clandestine life finally










Growing old, no finery, aging

body, luster gone from aging

eyes.  Vanished beauty, shaded

looks from an old lover; the

soul cries.

The enemy that is not kind, as

both beauty and strength decays.

Time engulfs the aged, suddenly

life changes in every way.

Of youth, we dream, while youth

and old age begin to entwine;  we

mellow with each setting sun, our

minds fight becoming old, of truth

we decline.

At last, we see the world with fading

eyes; hearts becomes weak.  The past

gone there is no future; the years have

gone by so quickly, we weep.

The days are long, were we ever young,

this crumbling body we cannot change; the

prison we live in, the past, the present

brings only weary pain.

Suffer, feeble, remembrance hidden deep

within our minds; emotions felt, we must

live the hand dealt life has not been


Frozen in time like ghosts’, nothing left to tell;

it is the last stage of life, some wait for Heaven,

while others continue to live in hell!







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Beyond the Voices


Listen to the roar of the

thunder; in those days I

could meld with a storm,

before my heart turned to

stone.  I remember when

the blood in my veins

flowed with a fire, a fire…only



The last time that I said

goodbye, I felt like soaring to

the heavens, at last, me the

storm alone.  Lock the door,

light the candles pour the

wine; at last my life, my life…

only mine.


Your voice lingers in the

doorway, grateful I am that

you will not be back.  Outside

the light fades on a field of

wildflowers, the sun sets

behind the Pine’s, the world,

the world…only mine.

A moonbeam flows through

the window, pale, straight,

silent like my heart, that once

beat innocent.  It is time for a

golden celebration, a celebration…

only mine.


I will teach myself to live simple

and wise, to look to God, and

then I will come back.  With God,

the stone that is my heart will

soften, the fire will return to my

cold veins, and I will once again

savor all that is mine… only mine.






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Beyond the Voices




Words, words, words, black,

brown, red, words upon which

my tears have shed.  The living

word speaks truth, yet one must

die to have real proof.


Birth to death we are taught  the

Holy text, we will not truly live until

this sacrifice has been met.  The sky

will open the “Just” will fly away; the

“Wicked” given a second chance must



Words, are they truth or a means for

the pious to lie, and for the answer, are

you willing to die?  I want to believe, to

hope, to live life to its fullest here on

earth, and I choose to live until that final



To taste the lush berries down in the

blackberry thicket, to smell the wild rose

on the side of the hill, to find a love that

will not let my heart be still.  I want to lie

in a clover field watching bellowing clouds

float by, to gaze at a summer’s azure sky.


I want to read poems with my legs dangling

over the highest cliff, this…and only this will

give my earthly heart a lift.  To stare at forever

on the landscape below, as I pray that my time

in the here and now will travel ever so slow.


I want to dip my toes into a frothy sea, to feel the

salty wind upon my face and know that I am in the

right place.  Here on earth with my love by my side,

yes, oh yes, God can wait for a while.






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Beyond the Voices

Love is Tiring…

Coalescing into an ineffable infinity of

serendipity evenings of peculiarity and

fiery.  There have been times that I

wanted to weep.

Weep, angered that I ever met you.  A

stone, yet I am patient as I gaze into your

eyes.  Never understanding completely,

your mind not pliable.

Oh, this despoiled flesh the path to

happiness, the consummation of my brain.

I think this thing called love is very tiring,

very, very, tiring as the tides of life flow





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Beyond the Voices