Soap Fiend

She bemuses her disbelief

Witnessing the soap opera...

Love, touching, endless kisses,

Relentless invasions of personal space,

Seductions and betrayals...

Every once in a while a marriage...

Everyone is beautiful there.

They emote blindly from a script...

Slaves to predestination.

In these she plays no part,

Being born on the other side of the screen,

They can't touch the things her fingers touch,

And they don't know her business,

No matter how hard they try.

They are as incidental as a click of her remote.

~Dr.M

Morning Rush

Mornings that come too soon

When sleep is in a rush

A cup of coffee is never enough

For deeper still, lying at the root

Is not a trifle, but a rage in a dream

That won’t go away

That leaps out of bed with him

Even when he drives himself

To distraction, it is there…

When out of the showerhead

It rains hard and cold

And the shivers are not what

He thought they are anymore.

Fear could never be this intractable--

No, it can’t be fear

Because the fear died long

Before last night when he

Realized it was the demon

Of someone’s perverse vanity

That looks at him from the blurry mirror

A smug smile… that

Hideous sardonic grimace

That doesn’t reflect who he is

And though he can’t shave away

The stubborn thought

When the second cup makes

The familiar morning headlines seem

As though he lost his freedom

Forever… he thinks of this

Siren, this eerie woman’s

Self-love and pride

Over her own banality.

And he laughs at himself

And he stretches…

And he realizes how close

He really was to losing

The freedom he has left.

~Dr.M

Blinking in the Silence

He had lost something

Along the way

Where the path taken by many

Can be barren.

When all around are strangers,

And he hesitates to bend,

And he can’t find

What he is looking for.

So he walked…

He waited…

He looked…

And in the night,

On an empty road,

He came to a flashing yellow light.

He heard the blinking in the silence…

He stooped low,

And what he found…

Was his loneliness.

~Dr. M

Distance Prevails

Perspective has decreed

The distance will prevail--

Things will get smaller

Like the lay of railroad tracks

Between the rails

There is less and less...

Smaller and smaller they tend

To converge, or, maybe they'll bend

At some horizon

And from nowhere it seems,

A vanishing point appears.



He holds her body close

So close she blurs

Her soul right through him.

He can't seem to let her go

But he has nothing to hold.

The ritual starts with her first step...

And distance prevails.



Perspective is a fickle friend

He watches her until

Less and less she becomes...

And he is nowhere

When she vanishes...

And distance prevails.
~Dr. M

When the Day Is Done

When purple glazes the weltering sky

Limns a horizon like a blanket's hem

Pulling over the dying day again

She waits for the coming night's falling cry

When the scents of perfume and spirits lift

Life from the diurnal torpor's haze

Forcing her impulse above her reason

To walk by the darkened window's tableau

Shadowy figures moving to fast time

In a neighborhood saloon with a band

Guarded by neon proclaiming some such brew

She's hidden her despair and without a care

Opens the door to nightlife's glittering roar. 

~Dr.M

Once in a Blue Moon

She kissed him under a blue moon once

Long ago... a commemorative kiss... a first kiss,

Lingering, and silencing the whole world.



Occasioned by a mutual glance

Chanced when banality after banality

Faded in the night...

By the light of this once in a blue moon.

Their touch became a blue heaven

Of what matters between two hearts.



What became of their first kiss,

When their lips pressed until they were blue?



Hope carries her again to the place

Once again cast in familiar light...

Grace glimmering from a sanctuary,

Hidden in the plane of Longing's domain,

Seemed to show the way to him again

Through the pale shadows of memory.



Her joyful arms reached out for him.

And now the blue it seemed,

Could reflect only her mood.

~Dr.M

Rena

What is it that turns her eyes
Upward beyond our cerulean sky,
Past what we know to be the heavens,
To where nothing has reached…
Not space…
Not even time?

Leave it for Rena to create that space,
Carrying with her all the beauty
She gathers in her magical life.
And she’ll plant there her flag,
Of beautiful words and images,
To flutter in the wind of Infinity…
To always be just beyond
Where the Universe is drifting...

~Dr.M


Please note that Rena is a lovely friend that I had the good fortune recently to meet on Stumbleupon. Please visit her beautiful pages at http://www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/retrit/reviews/

The Exquisite Sadness

Why can't we do more than remember--

Why can't we bring them back?

Just like a burned ashen ember...

When the fire's gone, unbearably, all is black.


Wondering why, incurably, we're so forlorn

A reason's hidden in a melancholy song

Heard through our heartstrings all along

Mellifluously, all the seasons before we're born.


We're here, elegantly, for a brief time

Nobly in grief, seeking what's sublime

But why on earth... who really knows?

That's just the way, mysteriously, it goes.


Why can't we do more than remember--

Why can't they never ever return?

To every January and to every December

Exquisitely, our lonely hearts will burn...

~Dr.M