Smoke and Mirrors (Ghost)

Violet Smoke Art Wallpapers2

Age old mystery of a truth never told
Built upon foundations of tenuous trust
Seen in quick reflections time and again
Willfully discredited as airborne dust

The things I have heard with my own two ears
Sounds of the night can’t possibly explain
I’ve listened to the morning arrive with fears
While witnessing the nighttime inflicting pain

I can still hear playful laughter of children
Also acknowledging the harsh sounds of insanity
Making me question the solidity of my existence
In relation to the reality of current humanity

Noises are a telltale sign of my desperate tale
This story I tell myself to make sense of it all
Yet visions I endure are the most sinister by far
To see what I’ve seen would cause an empires fall

I am outside looking into a smoke filled room
Through the painted glass that draws me inside
Sterling image of myself through the silver haze
Mystery of existence becomes my seductive bride

Mirage or miracle is a question left unanswered
As I remain standing alone with my reflection
Wondering if I am visible or fearfully ignored
While perpetually bound to my beloved’s protection

The Locket (Eternal Dream)


She carries it with her always and everywhere


Around her neck or clutched tightly in hand


This delicate piece of jewelry holds her world


Contains the mysteries of her exquisite elegance


A heart shaped golden locket of  hopes and dreams


Within it exists all the things she cannot shine without


The reasons for her flawless, heart stopping beauty


As well as the cause of her inner strengths and desires


It holds the enchantment to bring her into her dreams


While providing her with a most pleasant place to dwell


Surrounds her with friends of the vast animal kingdom


To keep her company and provide occasional counsel


As she is led to her fated haven by two of a feathered kind


One brilliant white and brought by the warmth of the sun


The other pitch black and warning of the dangers of the light


Such guidance she receives only within her endless dreams


This brilliantly shining bauble both a blessing and a curse


Holding the power to set her free, yet keeps her captive


Tricks her into the serenity of  such peaceful dreams


While her waking world crumbles to dust all around


Yes, this spellbinding trinket holds her mesmerized


Filling her with the same false hopes that befell her kin


Truth be told of the origin of this treasured lavaliere


Stunning pendant was ever so cleverly crafted from sin 

Negative Light


Born in absence of light

Raised within the darkness

Grew up inside shadows

Set free to fly at night


Grays begin to quietly fade

As if swallowed by obsidian

Blackness my companion

All form of light betrayed


Pitch of onyx never known

Well before or ever after

It has a certain warmth

Yet comfort chills to bone


Contentment found here

Inside this heavy cloak

Surrounding me wholly

I watch ME disappear






A Nightmare To Remember


    Have you had this  dream as well?? It comes to me often in restless fits of frantic  slumber. The destination is always unclear, but the urgent desire to arrive is pressing and tangible. As I cross the threshold  into the empty cavernous stairwell, I am drawn to the darkness  below. An indescribable feeling of  anxiety and agitation takes hold of me as I draw from a deep well of courage to continue down  the dimly lit steps into a vast and harrowing hallway of  uncertainty.

    Why must the lights flicker  so? With no rhythm or continuity the meager lights cut in and out adding to the thick and  palpable unearthly tension. With each descending step the fear increases astronomically. Almost to  the point of paralysis, but never quite enough to prevent me from  taking the next terrifying step downward. Familiar shapes begin to shift and move in and out of the wavering lights. Darting back and  forth from dark to light, light to dark. Elusive but intent on making  themselves known.

    Then come the  voices…Seemingly thousands of voices speaking clearly, plainly, yet cannot be understood. A myriad of indecipherable exclamations fill the air around me. So very many voices speaking as one, and  one as many. Listening to this  cacophony at great length would surely drive one to utter madness would it  not? But would it be an  insufferable madness? Or quite possibly a pleasurable new existence to be  embraced with eagerness and open mind. Certainly there must be a reason for this yearning to discover what beckons me  from below.

    As I press on toward the  depths, I  become aware that the steps that were taken with such fear and  trepidation are now replaced by much  more relaxed and purposeful movement down the steep stairwell into the dark  unknown. My entire body still  consumed with terror, but somehow at ease with the reality of   being  overwhelmed  by sheer unrelenting horror. The flickering of the lights and shape shifting shadow creatures coaxing me ever downward into the  concrete abyss. My senses telling me I am growing ever closer to the realization of all my fears and desires  simultaneously.

    So close now I can feel it.  The anticipation of the impending realization is heavy and distinct. The moment I have been cautiously awaiting is  finally at hand. As I continue to make my way down the steps, I am overcome with the feeling that the mood has changed. Is it  my imagination or is it becoming increasingly brighter in these depths? Yes…. the shadows that led me to this point  have all but disappeared as the light gets brighter still, and brilliant streams of sunlight start to pour through the cracks in the  walls and ceiling. As I start to run downward chasing the darkness, I am pulled  away by the light.

    Sadly, this is where my  dream ends. Each time I seem to get closer and closer to the point of dark  fulfillment, only to be taken away and left to  walk through my waking hours consumed by the curiosity of what I hope to find at  the bottom of that stairwell. For I am certain now that the only peace I will find will not materialize in the  conscious world, but in the dark expanses of my own eerily imaginative unconscious mental dreamscape. Perhaps next time I am drawn into that descending stairway of  dread, I will be able to make haste and find true discovery of self and purpose  with whatever waits for me down  below.

Midnight Swim


Cold ocean waves

Reflected moon

Diamond glitter

Across the wake


Refreshing plunge

Open water

Quiet mind

Alert,  awake


Depth unknown

Moving shadow

Swift below

Midnight mistake


Jaws of death

Open wide

Scream in pain

For no ones sake


Countless teeth

Razor sharp

Rip and tear

Shred and shake


Foamy water

Crimson red

Flesh is torn

Bones they break


Glimpse the moon

One last time

Pray the LORD

My soul to take.


Portrait of a senseless tragedy (Fatal Addiction)


    Tortured souls and darkened hearts, hardened by the atrocities the eyes have looked upon with casual indifference for so long. Beauty seems lost to the sensibilities of the spiritually barren beings whose sole purpose is to keep kindled a meaningless existence. The potential damned and the inherent beauty never realized is the tragedy of reality when the perception becomes one of complete absence of self worth.

   Was it really so long ago when things were much different? When the path that led to this dark place was not so overwhelmingly present? When exquisite grace and soft sensibilities could still be glimpsed in the mirror?  In remembering those times it seems like just yesterday, but somehow, as things have become excruciatingly evident, also seems like a million years have passed since that time of carefree innocence, and the signs of things to come were not so foreboding.

   This must serve as a constant reminder that far too often the other cheek is turned away from the horrific truths and the worlds sons and  daughters are left to join the ranks of the walking dead, as the flame that is their spirit and will to survive flickers in the breeze and is finally extinguished by the cruel hand of fate.