We will hold each other until our last kiss, when we are turned to dust, and the earth’s winds gently carry us and scatter our remnants among the fallen leaves, beautiful flowers and redwood trees; when the earth no longer spins on her axis in perfect balance like a beautiful ballerina on her toes in the company of an audience. In those moments, I will tell you that I love you, with immeasurable purity and the depths of infinite sincerity. At the twelve gates of heaven, look for me, and whisper the three words that you mean with all your heart; touch me—kiss me in light, and fall into my arms.

Melancholia of the Living

Suffering of a heavy heart causes weeping unceasing.
Winds through willow trees blow and their leaves know
The coming lament of the season;
Eyes cry sometimes for no known reason.
The feelings of yesteryear are still there,
But the resolve to keep living is hard to muster.
In last shallow breaths with arms outstretched they call for their mothers.
The movie of their lives are played within the blinking of an eye;
The foundations shake, and soaring eagles start to cry.
The stillness of lifelessness is contemplated …
The living go on in agony and forlorn, in disconcerted waiting.
Cold darkness calls in seductive whispers,
Promising peace and tranquility to the listener,
But the primal instinct to survive causes rise,
And the tormented continue to live and suffer.
Oh, that they could live without pain and agony in blissful harmony.
The burdens of the anxious and the oppressed are many;
The blissful and the happy are looked upon with wondrous envy.
Who will hear the wails of the sorrowful?
Who will take up their banners and resume their march
While they lie in wounded state paralyzed with the prognosis of their fate?

Oh heaven hear their plea, for their suffering is constant
And their pain unbearable. Grant them reprieve, for they
Fall to their knees overcome with sorrow and are no longer able.

Tears are blown in the wind in winter chill,
With ashen faces solemn and still.
They hold on for another season.


With tears, the infliction of mortality was fiercely debated.
Memories of childhood joys appeared, but familiar faces were faded.
With a mixture of hysterical laughter, murmurs, and wailing,
The final act was finally abated with a crumpled note nearby,
With a name at the end stated.

Ode to Dreams


O dreams, you visit me in my sleep,

And infiltrate every hidden part, 

Of my unconscious thought!

You lull me with pleasantries, 

And induce fantasies of all varieties;

Lovely dreams, you take me away

From my wretched reality,

And cause me to ride on the wings of the angels.

In heavenly bliss, high in the clouds I ride!

The moon and the stars glaring bright,

I glide by Polaris and give it a kiss;

The clouds lie underneath me in peace and tranquility.

You oft have visited me when I least expect

And grace me with your presence:

Sometimes I beckon you to come,

But you come in your own time.

Your vividness enthralls me,

And gives me reprieve

If only but for minutes or hours;

I try to grab hold of you,

And keep you permanently,

But you always slip away.

Before you go this time,

Why don’t you think about it and stay?

You should know how I feel about you by now,

For my endearment for you is like no other:

Last week, you even made me dream about

reuniting with my mother!

In warmth and visions you wrap me up,

But dreams, why do you end so abrupt?

Even so, every time you leave

I hate to see you go.

Dreams, you have been with me since my childhood,

And in a world of hell, you are a temporary escape;

An invigoration of hope and aspiration

to be attained in the real world.

You cause me to have visions vividly!

And make them my reality;

Your unimpeded excitement is like walking on glass,

Across the vast sea!

Please visit more often,

You never have to knock,

For the door of unconscious thought is always open;

Turn on the lights and let yourself in.

I look forward to our next adventure,

What could it be?

Maybe the woman I am to be with forever?

Will she be beautiful and have long hair dark as a raven’s feather?

I will ponder these questions as I now go to sleep.

Old, wonderful and trusted friend of mine,

In my unconscious thought

Is where we again will meet.

A Soldier’s Hymn


I will not give up 

I will not surrender

I will not concede my faith,

To fear I will not render –

Furiously I will battle

Precious Lord help me win –

And if I should fall,

Notify my next of kin –

Redeem me of my sin, 

And wipe away my tears –

Let me walk the streets of gold

Where there is no more fear –

But if it be your will

I make it through the night

This is my solemn swear

That I will valiantly fight –