Melinda Pillsbury-Foster 
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4. Fear and Pain that Still Detain
(Dedicated with complete sincerity to Allen Craig Franklin, my husband and abuser) 

Battered hopes and shattered truth
Begun with trust removed with lies
This the wretchedness of my youth
Distorts my life, unmakes, denies

Abused, a word that understates
The harshness of the world it makes 
Abused in mind, in body bashed
reproved by love that kills- but lasts

He came with smiles, seduced with faith
designed the ugliness of fear
An interdiction for all belief
that shackled self when he was near

Abused. 

Used, rejected, scorned, detained
denied the scope that life retains
Needed, sold to use again
a life that grows more ever grim

Abused. 

Battering on body, mind,
that fractures thought, my will and signs
Remakes the person who was me
into something that I hate to see

Abused. 


If you have not walked and known,
not tasted fear and so been owned
You do not know where I have been
a place that holds no hopes or friends. 

You have not lost the inner scope
that held your course and gave you hope
You have not lived and breathed and died
in soul belief he would not lie. 

Abused and Freed

When grief is wrung, despised and gone
while still the spirit listens, longs
To hear the echoes that belong
to the voice that held that song. 

When I learned to see anew
that life could be again renewed
And shackles that had owned my bones
were broken by the life I'd grown. 

My breath was eased, in body, mind
The walls were breached, dissolved in time. 
I tasted, relished, lived and laughed
Freed of what distorted, grasped. 
Freed 

Manumission of emotion 
that can never compromise
The transmission which, evoking, 
fractured self to make me wise. 1.

When Laughter Fades

When laughter fades and thoughts return 
to find their threads worn thin with time
When emotions that you knew had cooled, burn
and shatter, flame and splatter, and find designs.  

When the laughter fades and cools
idles thought, returns to touch
The stagnant, unconsidered pools
of things that hurt too very much  

There, in that unlikely place, 
dump of fears, vestigial waste
In the place where you most hate to go
are all the things that make you so.  

Laughter coils, removes and takes
redeems our smugness, builds us brakes
To hold off thoughts that wiggle in
born from places deep within.  

Laughter heals, and also wounds
laughter palls and calls and soon
You will find laughter at its best
when slivered truth lets you digest

The unarmored ripples that remind
each of us of human binds
That don't refuse, excuse, degrade
others who with us share this shade.

When laughter fades we see and know
The directions that we need to go.  

2. 
Clinton's Dog
What kind of Love wags Clinton's Dog
That kills and maims with bombs and bluster?
What kind of tempered thoughts revoke
the sanity we once could muster?  

His needs.

He needs to reposition, prove, 
that he is really president
no lusting, lurking, mindless void
but a man with morals resident

He needs.

To remake the flaccid soul within
to something less debased with greeds
To create a mirrored image, friend
that frees him from what's there to see.

He needs.

He needed women, needed power
Needed, needed every hour
Needed discourse which could show
His life had worth, design and goals

He needs, now cancerous, still must grow

He needs to remake the world's own stage
Into a place where battle's wage
Where he may become a human soul
With noble bents and worthy goals

His needs, he needs and so he feeds
As it was, on women, lies
Now he feeds on human lives

The right of free expression revoked
Because these people cannot vote

All rights invalid at his pleasure
His whim the only given measure. 

He feeds his needs with children's dreams
And cannot see what actions mean.

It's up to us to stop this war
with minds that say, No, never more.  

Never more use Nations might
To kill and maim, turn day to night
Never more shall children die
And never know the reason why.  

Never more, the blood and killing
Never more, shall we will willing
Never more, I say to you.
The people don't belong to you.  

3.

Hendry's Beach to Neverbe

My steps went North along the beach, 
the silvered sand remanded thought
Removed the sought and stilled the breech
reproved my anguish, quenched my drought

The sand rushed in on wave-made coils
the wind consumed the distant sounds
as I watched and tasted, revised and roiled
reflected inner place unbound.

I walked North along the beach,
straining eyes that I might see
The promised land of Neverbe
a non-existent entity.  

But eyes can see through mind wrought will
things that never, never come to be.  
 Such saw I, remaking truth, to wish fulfill
Southward coming, too faint to see

I saw and heard, believed and hoped
designed a meeting, strained with need
All my thoughts there telescoped
wishes warmed, conspired, greeds

I walked North along the beach
Hendry's Beach, backed onto cliffs
I saw the rocks, lent breath to grief
and knew that I was still bereft.  

Neverbe, a place of myth, where lovers meet, 
requite and touch, fingers brush in lingered proof
A place unmade defies defeat
where love unsaid is yet enough

Neverbe, where I walk North and he walks South
Where Lovers meet with unsaid vows.  

4. Fear and Pain that Still Detain
(Dedicated with complete sincerity to Allen Craig Franklin, my husband and abuser) 

Battered hopes and shattered truth
Begun with trust removed with lies
This the wretchedness of my youth
Distorts my life, unmakes, denies

Abused, a word that understates
The harshness of the world it makes 
Abused in mind, in body bashed
reproved by love that kills- but lasts

He came with smiles, seduced with faith
designed the ugliness of fear
An interdiction for all belief
that shackled self when he was near

Abused. 

Used, rejected, scorned, detained
denied the scope that life retains
Needed, sold to use again
a life that grows more ever grim

Abused. 

Battering on body, mind,
that fractures thought, my will and signs
Remakes the person who was me
into something that I hate to see

Abused. 


If you have not walked and known,
not tasted fear and so been owned
You do not know where I have been
a place that holds no hopes or friends. 

You have not lost the inner scope
that held your course and gave you hope
You have not lived and breathed and died
in soul belief he would not lie. 

Abused and Freed

When grief is wrung, despised and gone
while still the spirit listens, longs
To hear the echoes that belong
to the voice that held that song. 

When I learned to see anew
that life could be again renewed
And shackles that had owned my bones
were broken by the life I'd grown. 

My breath was eased, in body, mind
The walls were breached, dissolved in time. 
I tasted, relished, lived and laughed
Freed of what distorted, grasped. 
Freed 

Manumission of emotion 
that can never compromise
The transmission which, evoking, 
fractured self to make me wise. 


5.The flow of moments

The flow of moments can't remove
The source of pain that still reproves
We act in hopes we know what's best
Putting life and thought to test

Our beliefs, built on shifting sand
of thoughts denies the truth and bans
the hope that we might come to see
the ancient source of destiny

The moments flow reminds and brings
the ravaged scenes that fear and wring
our souls to stand on shattered edge
the precipice that Time alleged

We come as children, live and die
Knowing just the soulless lies
That harbor, steal and maim our hearts
With never promised, unformed doubts

When knowing, truth is bare to see
To souls that breathe Earth's destiny
The signs and learning, all are here
Speaking to us through our tears.

And still we linger, willed with dread
Because its here our fears have lead.  

6.
To Save Mankind

We cannot change the leaders, they're lost in dreams of power
We cannot change or rearrange our history's sullen hours
We cannot use their self same tools without becoming them
We cannot do 
and we cannot 
retreat without amend.

The nots are many, often tried, marches, starving, asking why?  
Begging that the war should end, refusing service, money, men.  

All these means we have employed, to end the tide of unjust wars
Now we need another way, to bind the wounds that rend and slay
We need to take back all the power
Every second, minute, hour. 

Because we are not property
We are free to live our destinies. 
The vagrant might of those who rule
Must be challanged, changed, denied
Each of us had been a tool
Each of us, ourselves, has lied

If we say that we cannot
If we give in, relinquish what is sought
If we excuse because we need
Savage others with our greeds

If we do not live the dream
That misted glimpse of what life means
Do not find the place within
What all dreams and shadows touch as kin
If we do not, give not, comply
Need we ask the reason why  
The core, our essence had to die?  

A world that shimmers, lives and breathes
A world united in One Dream
One living, mind-spun long beginning
Isn't that a thing worth winning?  

Tempestuous and untried hearts
That doubt your power, please own and start
Become the living will sublime
And in this way become divine.  

7.
Layerings of Truth

We find the truth in layered sheaths, 
woven unexpected turnings
That lend our minds to find relief
in sudden light and time made yearnings

The truth can stalk our worried lives
lending to our echoed course
Patinaed blendings, surprised disguise
to rave and sunder all discourse

The truth, that sought and fearsome jewel
releases what we fear to know
Unsuspected twists, designs most cruel
show our spirits what is so.

Always sought, and rarely found
the Truth gives way to what we wish
Although its resonance abounds
leaving hollowed places we dismiss

The Truth, a thing that cannot lie
Gives light to those who'd rather die.  

8.
When Shadows Speak

The lengthened voice of shadowed thoughts, 
bemused by all that time divines
Slings hours grace, beguiled child, 
into the searing wedge of doom
Designing mentions of intentions, 
recoursive blandishments rebound
Into the wastes of silent hastes,
divorced from what is seen and found

The idylled hopes of flaccid minds
removes from all its tendriled lines
Reprising what is devoid of thought
the wizened void that tarried, caught
Within the monument of Place
with Light, elector, detained with Grace
So that within the harbored realm
lives summoned mentions overwhelmed

This, the fractured place in time
Wherein we dwell wrapped up in Mind.  

9.
The Fund – Dedicated to John Fund
Timid and protected by the fences, walls and moats
His life is undelected, preselected and remote
Unable to connect with the woman half of Man
He's an also run for power that gives in to their demands
Unenabled and unstable in the wordward side of mind
He remembers, burning embers, of a place that once was kind

On the nether side of Jersey he elects to live his life
Divorced from pain and sorrows that still edge him in with strife
Writing, writing, tapping, tapped, this the life that takes and grasps
Talking, speaking, giggled thoughts, still unbelieving, savaged droughts
For connecting to the life's blood of the place within the heart
Takes courage unpossessed by one whose life is yet to start.  

10.
Anger Slowly Brewing
I'm coming to the edge of boil, 
finally seeing all the coils
wrought by those who used my dreams to feed
all their appetites and greeds
With open hearted empty head
I gave and gave until I bled
I worked and sweated, created, taught
astonishing heights I paved and wrought
Poems written, lit their lives
hopes unrequited, burnished, died
Scenes electric and surreal
told them each my love was real
But giving as a voiceless void
is not a woman's just reward
I needed to get something back
the thing the suckers, each had lacked
I needed to be visible and held
in honored love, the cusp that melds
One and one into a whole
that leaves no doubt where values show
A sad return for what I gave
but lesson learned is now time saved.  

11.
The Breath of Time
From simple ambulated needs, 
cored in just the will to breed
To subtle nuanced thought borne coils
which give a species well edged foils
To carry on the mindward voyage
that evoluted cunning deploys
Threads of thought that do not end
light made minds that curl and bend
Retreat, attack, and dance the steps
that lend their brains to timeborn treks

Threads of passion, woven, greeds
and in that tapestried world we grieve
Sundered from the conscious One
intellect fills breeches, lungs
Sends natal cry of solitude
where nothing else may dare intrude
for countless hours, years and lives
the lonely journey rebeats and thrives
Building up the inner paths
that each sustains, retains and grasps
That in that distant place of time
a reconnection will be designed
And each, patinaed, time tempered soul
will intersect with all its goals
Becoming thus the One, and Whole.  

12.
One Dance
The evening filled with chattered wit 
and elegancies that salved and fit
The occasion, was I have forgot
but hundreds came, remained and talked
Candles glowed, and napery hung
the colors soothed and smoothed and sung
Of minds that noticed all details
not hidden behind tomorrows veil.  
But I was there, I don't know why
but there I loitered, smiled, sighed
My gown the deepest, richest red
clinging, long, of silk that spread
and coddled, tendered, glazed
the skin on which it scarcely laid.  
I knew you were invited hence
but so was I, delighted wench
I danced with this acquaintance, that
not knowing quite what to expect.
I saw you talking, knew at once
and you saw me, reacted, jumped.  
I just smiled and moved away
I didn't know exactly what to say.  
You found me and spoke my name
I was trembling then, devoid of games
You took my hand, kissed and held
and led me toward the music's sward
My breath came quicker, as we touched
your lack of words said just as much.  
You pulled me close, I sighed again.
My heart a hammer, and you grinned.  
We really had nothing left to say
Eyes that spoke forgave delays

Just one dance, we parted then
fingers clinging to the end.  

Just one dance, eternal touch
One dance to say so very much.  

13.

Elven Moments Love May Prove
I laid the clues with complex foils
Involving much of mind borne toil
I hired, quizzed, devised and found
Ways to make her heart astound.  
All for love, and gladly done
All for love that's just begun.

All for love that flickers, makes
My heart the captive of strange fate
While all my thoughts surge, elate.  
Our future sealed, without debate.  

I've yearned to find one such as her
One with elven, giggled turns
A woman who can reprise and think
And command my thoughts with one sure wink.  

I can't belief I've found at last
A passion that can hold me fast
I can't believe we resonate
In sure divined elected fate

I can't believe that it is true
But it is, and raptures prove 
That sure delectation of love's cost
Is sweeter when it can't be lost.  


 14. 

Can Words Selected, Sorted , Sate?  

The fulsome flood of worded thoughts, 
bemuses mind defines the shots 
That echoing, refuse to cease, 
their resonance, recused and brief 

They come as cadenced, inner truths 
that unsolicited bring rebuke 
For all the harbored, undone deeds 
that still remain sustained by need. 


Words, the outward mind bent veil 
that inner knowing chiseled, frail 
Indeed, this cognite, finite tool 
can undo the inertial bindings rules. 

For words, the only weapon here 
can work, if I just lose my fear. 
For I am afraid, in dark bound night 
of those preselected acknowledged sights 

That only words, select and right 
can turn back to never sight. 
A scarce begun yet now known work 
that, having means I cannot shirk.  




15. Speak Not Truth 

What unsaid passions, inward sate, 
the fooled rhythm that course and make 
The verdant, lilied, in seeing eyes 
born with questions become wise?  


What timed, and chorded rippled hymn 
reminds our kind to live and then 
Removes the memoried, edge long threads 
that recorded each thing we ever said?  


Who or what, the questions glance 
by defining losing each seared chance 
To understand, encompass own 
the truths thus promised, and unknown 


The wise who speak in silvered runes 
and speak, divining, signing, truths 
If truly wise must understand 
that speaking truth remands the strands 


So speak with actions, learn with hands 
That times infractions, 
unspoken sanctions, 
might not command.  


16. When Love Will Not Die 

When bindings prove against the tides 
of anger, fear, and will not die 
When bindings forged in cybered space 
engage our thoughts, remind, deface 


The futured worlds that thus are lost 
Tell me, how shall I count the cost?  
When furtive passions, given, owned 
remand my soul to grieve alone 

And covert yearnings, echoed needs 
exact a toll that stills all creeds 
Tell me how I end their hold 
bindings that take, remake, and mold? 


To ease my heart, remembered smiles 
languid raptures that beguiled 
While echoes of the ruptured Not 
remind my spirit, so distraught 

I grieve the loss of Neverbe 
The loss of what I'll never see. 


17. The Shores of Time 

Oceanic thoughts that harbor, loom, 
encompassing all of life's first womb 
Remember shards of time worn dreams 
that, abandoned still stretch our seams 

Remanded into wakeful nights 
born in shadows, lost in light 
Still abide the wind ward waves 
that bear the print that steals and saves 


A print of cyclic, mind touched means 
that partially known is still unseen 
A part, not whole is what we find 
scored by body, soul and mind 

The shores of time that rivet thought 
subsumed within divided Nots 
The matrixed coming into being 
of land locked hopes and things unseen 

Ocean, deeply laid and scarcely known 
Ocean, first cradle, womb and home 
Ocean, filled with life in light embrace 
Ocean, forgive this, our disgrace 


18. When Thought Runs Dry 

When lilac visioned lights run thin 
and echo shadows velvet gloss 
Our hands remake, disjoint times twin 
and touch the moment of our loss 

The Jasmined curls of spring warmed thought 
designed to temper, doubt and breed 
In kind begin again their drought 
denying depth and tone to destiny 


Sweet ages spent in rapture, twined 
so languishing and filled with need 
That this fair anguish, death inclines 
and so stills and owns, and sets you free 

Sweet passion's child, light endowed 
With this spare verse I weave your shroud. 


19. Esperanto 

Thought flows in timed discourse with errant, 
riven eddies lightly combed 
Consuming houred, molten moments within the current 
flow, sequential, 
monumental matrixed loom.  
divided on circumferenced chords in time.  


Human minds that blend and burnish, 
cadenced edges always furnished 
with the sensed remorse of promises 
Replete and so defined.  

Will Esperanto, manufactured from linguistic, polyglot refine? 
When Mind is poised for substitutions and dilutions so inclined?  

No. In experiential discourse it will lose and so decline.  


20. Eddies in the Turns of Time 

Sharp divining, still point found, idylls inclining, borders bound 
This, the cyclic, time worn design that empowers and defines 

Unexpected, tripped and shorn 
of delectated ancient, echoes patient, mind remade in current points. 

Pause in thought that will become 
The seared electric age to come.  

Through winnowed time, combed and thinned 
My silent frame contains and wins 

Finding places faint and thinned 
By those suspected, unelected, coy and kinned.  

When shadowed, pulsed and finite thoughts 
forget the timid forms they wrought 

When reality turns time, so caught 
That destiny reminds us not 

That this, the waning age of Man 
Is poised, transmutation, joined and planned 

Unstoppable, uncharted shores 
Beckon us forevermore.  

Forever, past and future age. 
Reminds us not to count its wage.  


21. Into Space 

Within the soul sealed cup of Earth 
bestride the follied course now run 
We poise in labored force of birth 
To taste a future just begun. 

What the Mind of Humans wrought, 
brought to this revising hour 
Is outward seeking, life quest sought 
Linking minds, desire's power 

On templates newly made and tried 
a world holds breath, in imaged sight 
The ancient seat of human lives 
hanging free, in sun clear light 

Emerging soul of Earth's first child 
Grasps the source of life compiled 



22. Habited, Inhabited, Haunted and Humored

In the hedonistic havens of the nights than harbor hope.
My mind debriefs regressions that enlarge my soul born scope

Always looking for the future in a past that mists and moves
I taste the edges of emotions that evaded, lost and crude

In the feckless readmittance to the fortress of dismay
I repeat the interdiction of the drought that this portrays

And knowing we revise, recircumferance and so denote
The replication of conditions that derive and then emote.  

So listen to the pulsing that subsumes, repeats and sings
And hear the glad declination that the barest mention always brings  

23. What Comes of Age

What numbering of rough hewn days
reminds our bodies of the age
That shivered fingers clutch and catch
within the pall of time's own latch

Age, that bane of sunlight thought
That promised life, remains to taunt
The callowed spirits who remain
within the cloak of what's deemed sane.

Aged spirits, new to life
redeem and court the end of strife
While older lovers sample truth
gaining thus the source of youth

Older growing, older still
The insubstantial core that heals.  

24. When Morning Grieves with Tear Worn Wishes

The morning grieves with seried brief
Abiding time designed and deft
That fortress place where love, bereft
Retreats to find those shards still left .

Grief
For losses, disjoint and solemn things
Remandered to undestined wings
That imagined source of what might be
Might regain the magnitudes of misspent dreams

Pain.
Unborn, unrealized, heart and mind
can not forget, find recoursed signs
That tell and supplicate the fates
In kind explaining truth's rebate.  

Sustained
So while the throbbing, thrumming lives
While pain and grief still pulse and give
While all of these still make us real
Give thanks for pain that hurts - and heals.

25.
(Written to Bil Munsil, on line acquaintance May 7, 1999 around 5:20 PM)  
Typical of what? Achievement is measured my as many standards as there are people. It should like you have found the means to spend your life doing what you love. To do that most people have to be either independently wealthy or retired.  
Life, is after all, what we make of it.  

The Sum of Life
By what measure, at what cost
is life's true assessment, taken, held
What values summon, found and lost
contain the pain and joys we felt?  

Birth beginning, death the end, 
between the two we weave and make
The only truth that can rescind
the darkened hollow which is our fate. 

Hours, minutes, days full count
time will sheer, divide and own
These spare pages, ours to mount
the essential us most true to bone. 

When all is dust, forgotten lost
when time removes the scents of love
No one then will count the cost
or ask what years and thoughts could prove.

Ask yourself, then, as you write
The price of life you live in light. 

And that is what I have to say about the matter. Pleasure in your day. Melinda 

26.
(Written for Ted in Hawaii. No particular reason. )  
Taking Tea

We met across expansive gleams
Of nappered linens which were white
A rose pursed pink lips, coyed by leaves
that nodded, spoke in both our sights

We took tea, we nibbled, sipped
we nuanced, foiled, laughed and sighed
As time unfolded we traded, glimpsed
the parts of us that do not lie.  

We took tea, in sylvan air
reforming wishes, vaulting hopes
We strengthened spirit, lost despair
resetting goals, we stretched our scope.

We took tea, one afternoon
And found the best things end too soon.  

27.
When You Don't Know What To Do.

When the slurried eddied, timed and turned, 
roiled hours, wrack and churn.
When all is discord and dismay
and nothing placed remains and stays

When fluctuated, unsettled thoughts
recant the control you'd hoped you'd got
And all within the flux of time
retrofits your whole design

You've bottomed out, lost all your gas
and still you grasp, bemoan, but last
You've found the nadir, that's true
but you've also found the core of you.  

So when nothing else can now go wrong
Think positive and so grow strong.  

28.
Solitude, Silence and Serenity
Serene reminders, coiled thoughts 
that still the idylls life has wrought.
Solitude that steals our grief
leaving gifts of time made relief.  

Echoed anguish dies unheard
in the momentary breath of words
That finding place within the soul
remind our spirits and our goals

Lilied pauses that reprove
the chaliced hopes that search and move
the houred minutes of each life
that born in fractions breed in strife.  

Tremble when you hear the voids
that such remainded voice employed
To steal and maim, reflect, avoid
the empty thoughts that echo joy

For joy, the implement of light
Cannot be found without life's right.  

29.
Been There.
When lassitudes inertial force
contains the all we've ever been.
When all emotions become remorse
for what we've done, and not, again.

The grinding, maw of all the Nots
opens wide with grin grimed rage
We forgot to see the wonders lost
in contemplation of the grave

Remember touches, raptured hours
remember jokes that brought you home
Remember moments that empowered
and unnumbered smiles within life's loom

Life is what you did and gave
And not the things that you can save.  

30.
In Acts 
Questions die on lips that cease, 
their unremitting need to know
While surety, the God Unknown, 
remands my soul to bind and sow.

Questions.
Inward looking , focused thought 
Seeking answers never asked
Finding raptures seldom chanced.  
Promised shards that gleam and dance.

Questions.  
Poised in place and time and light
Found where surety is owned
Divining thoughts and can delight
If posing lends itself and hones.

Questions.  
When asking echoes, resonates
Answers form and end debate
Lending hopes that remand, elate
The linkages that known, must sate.  

Questions.  
Life expounding, tempers thoughts
To winnow, taste, consider, touch
The lasting answers that reprove
Designs that make, and so improve

Questions.
Finding answers deep within
Questions heal, relieve and mend.  

31. Two Haiku

 Love reaches us. Touching
that place of stillness
where no one else may come.  

Words trickle into our ears
Travelers from a place
We cannot go.  

31 One Haiku

Seasons of rapture
Caught in one intaken thought
Gives place to wonder


32. Convolutions

Matrixed void of mannered thoughts 
that pace and promise time's reprise
Speak the sum of human hopes
in intellect and reason's guise

From human minds in pulsing course
the answers trickle, squeeze and drip
While lobes denied full intercourse
ignore the truths that fall from lips

A wracking convoluted maze
that winnows truth and fractures thought
The mind, now birthing coming days
that promise and imply the sought

Fields of diamonds, in full sight
Ignored because they catch the light.  

33. When Thoughts Still Catch In Eddied Memory

The tumult, wracked and harrowed time, 
has gentled; course relieved and cooled
Intellect now controls my mind
emotions sort, reflect, detach, unfooled.

Yet still you linger there, in mind-made fantasy that beguiled
Still your words, tasted, owned 
and so sharp honed 
and needed still repair
To that rare place, 
still there.  
Even now, events receding into Nevered home
of desires died for want of breath and life and pleadings.
Still there.  
Giving aching memory to both injury and joy so sharply etched
That the barest edge of touch can cut. 
To bone and deep born needings. 
Still there.  

In that harbored time encapsulated place
Where two were one within embrace.  
Where looking into other eyes
I saw myself, believed, surprised.  

Whose lips still press on mine in the almost woken time 
of jasmined morning barely broken into day?  
Gentle lips that brushed away 
the unbeguiled, riven questions now unsung?  
Speaking magic interludes of dear becomings, rapture hung.  

Those encaptured memories, never sought
that cling and keep and touch and own my heart
its murmured recollections to so impart.  
That time, both friend and traitor, might restart.  

34. The Fragrant Scent of Life Unspent

Time's coursing cadence melts the heart's 
own distant summings while echoes prove
That seldom touches, improve those parts
that fickle lovers deceive and rue.

Deceptions writ on shadowed tomes
that spoke in wit-toned sly, taut runes
Deface the truth of love's own tomb
and trill discordant half made tunes.

This the song that freezes time
discoursing follied hopes worn thin
This the chorused unmade lie
where love once given found its end.  

Fragrant with the hearts own tears
Jasmined eyes that know no fear. 

35. Insightful Thoughts

When idle thoughts design our lives
renewing time crossed echoed deeds
That half remembered, wit rich scribe
whose worded life rekindled dreams

Lives on in half toned, still born pleas
that once uttered draw in the thoughts
That course the haggard destinies
now owned and given since they've brought
The fine divorce that made us free

Inseeing scribe that age forgot, 
who spoke the words that summoned grief
Remake the coming time of drought, 
that well of words that blinds, retrieved

The memoried unfolding, lost in time
That pulses still within our minds.  

36.
Verse in Me.  
My verse pervades the timeless wastes,
  building epochs, lending grace 
to those sublime and tortured thoughts 
  that prevail when I can't talk.  
They come in cadenced roiling tides, 
that dwell within, be still, abide, 
remind my soul of onward dreams 
  that glance and stipple all I see.  
Enjoining mind to circumvent
the ravished tangents time has send
To echo terse and fractured rhymes
  that enter magic, words divine.  
Into pauses fraught with tendered hopes
  that promise me enlarging scope.  

36.
Obsessions
Stealing moments, hours, lives,
they forge the fevered, unriven lies
That shackle, maim and swallow hopes
that less compelling still lend us scope

To lives that thirst for untried tastes
that forbidden still invite embrace

Obsessed.

When mind remakes and takes and needs
a thing that promises scarce breathed release
When life's own pulsing is fever starved
for that spare touch which fate has bared

The brain can not retain its course
and all within explodes remorse

Obsessed.

The barest edge of needed bliss
retains the hopes that life has missed
But even this, the dungeoned keep
of ravaged will can learn to sleep
With time, the edging dims and ebbs
and passion pays its debt - in death.  

37. To be finished.  

The hour grows late 
and the arms of Morpheus beckon me 
to sylvan slumbers couched in unknown dreams, 
coiling both the rigid thought of reason modeled mind 
and the passioned unplumbed depths of emotive acts, 
the two impacted, corded, 
always twined 
and so combined.  

38.
Touches Never Felt
Ideas that reach a place within, which fingers never touch
Illuminate of liquid thought, 
evoking fire so mind is caught.
Cascades, connects to interlace
In this, the intellect's true embrace.  

Thoughts
The webbed reminder all are One
Revealing first, and last, the sums
That toll up eons, epochs, lives
That adding thoughts cannot then die.  

39.
Dusty Books
When volumed rows of unread tomes, 
residing, stilled in silent thought
Remind the passerby who owns
to look and catch a thread of note

And pause.

Remembered moment fraught,
with time turned destiny wrung dry
To turn the pages long unsought
And seek the newborn answered whys

Reflected.  

Found in margins, scribbled lines
rioting with insighted eyes
That saw, and understood the kinds
of nuanced distance given lies

Remind

The mind to sift through time
discriminate, detect, the winnowed truth
That direction may storm the sharp incline
of faulted theories, aborted, rude.

Rethink

Through houred, yeared, dishonored lives
we touch on turnings, twisted time
That shift and savage, gild, devise
the bedrock from which spirit's mined.  

Reremember

In booked corners, dusted, cloaked
We find the tortured page unspoke. 

40.
Sorting Through
The boxed remains of houred life, 
removed immediacies of need
Remain to clutter, creating strife
filling places we don't wish to see

Impending clumps and sordid sheaves
of banished hopes and stillborn dreams
Remaindered mementos of things most brief
or of love's endurance, sweet with grief

Through all of these we sort and sigh
touching life's reflected ohms
And as we winnow, tear, delight
Our thoughts return, for nothings gone

Sort through accumulated things
And find unremembered, hoped for wings

41.
Abuse that Clings

The surge of love that finds your soul
glancing touch, indifferent voice
When this wretched thing is your one goal
Can light your heart and birth your joys

You love, are tied by things unseen
those shackling, endorphined echoed hopes
That live to breed in mind made dreams
rescinding life and all your scope

You love, unable to retrain
your mind by recognizing the source of pain
You love in prisoned time drawn long
unabled, needy, reason gone.  

You love and hope, believe, have faith
remake the past for someone’s sake
The someone, source of life's own light
the one who curses you to endless night

Abusive loving that distains
To let you live among the sane.  

42.
The Twists and Turnings of Fate
In jasmine minted memory, 
the twists of fate remind and reach
To turn the face of destiny
and call the spirit back to teach

Look and see the woven thoughts
that cradled who you have become
Look, accept what you have wrought
reject the drugs that conscience numb

Within the folds of misspent time
the dross transformed relents its cost
Admitting, with sight the sure design
that denies that savor can be lost

Banished hours, poignant touch
to bind up wounds that could not heal
Admit the pain that aches is just
and own the truths that make you real.  

43.
Justice Quest
Justice.
Balanced lives that echo truth.  
Belie the garbed perversity of false design
banishing the fragrance born on windful tidings 
breathing sacred, solemn moments strung in time.  

Justice.
Lives in weighted thought spun action come.
Becoming echoed fractions sung in sense drenched
lastings; tilted, tensive, ceaseless passage
of those threadings interactive
filling, time and introspective 
surety, known though undefined.
This the stark redemption
never mentioned
whose summation is
Divine.  


44.
Walk the Tall Ships to Ninivah

Tall ships that shift and shape a world unmade
Taking sail to Ninivah
The blatant, bannered, bastioned wind-filled cups
That slice through time and space
remaking paths in unseen minds.

To Ninivah.  

Shattered mote of time, lost in travailed, oncoming acts
Matrixed place of Man's design, trading, loving, bold becoming
Ransomed now from dust and thought
Stones and mud reproving unheard echoes, lives undone
The tall ships walked to Ninivah.

To Ninivah.  

Placed in lives that glistened, flourished, spoke
Reproving all that makes their time remote.  
Laughter spilling over into eyes that touched
tomorrows now unknown.
Acts that raptured, owned, devoured, lusted
snuffed by candle coddled light
lost in void of unbottomed night.  

Ninivah.  
Ancient silence owns you still and still and always
Swollowed ships and caravanned oncomings
Laughter, tears and softest touches, musiced hum
of inward turning deaths
Undone.  
Exhumed to fractured shards of sight
through minds in forward flight
with wind captured odes of ancient, tragic heights
Tall ships that sail in wordward air of mind.  

To Ninivah.  

45.
The Song of Tongues

In cave cupped ambiance, forgotten, lost
Eyes looked up in love that left no place to ponder.  
In momentary wakened need relieved or sated.  
Eyes locked in love, believed and joined.  
Coupled lives that birth deployed.  
The Song of Tongues first fluttered, toned and sung
the liquid love of laughter scented joy.  

Birthing Song of Human Tongues.  

A mind gave garbled form to cadenced onward rushing pleas
unwoven threads spun gold
and dross in wayward wonder.
Her will elects to slake his needs.  
Uttered joy that owns the soft warm weight of mother
to eager lips pursed touched on breast.
Endorphined rapture drove and bonded, 
And so began the endless quest.  

Fragrant tang of milk that filled and stilled all inner hungers
Embracing arms, circumferenced worlds unnumbered.  

A Song both heard and sung its wafting wonders.  
Small beginnings. 
Source of untapped futures unadmitting.  
Formed unseen
in those convoluted foldings, 
a fortress built inside a dream.  

Song of Tongues 

That speak through wending ages, coiling in minds that lifted fragile thought
into oncoming tides of breath made sages. 
To dance the metronomed delights of mind
Sheered and glanced through tendriled course of echoed time.

All born from upward glancing love
That gives in full, forgetting life bound reach
Remaking tongued nothings into speech.  

46.
Burning: Twists in Time

The slow sure creak of labored hours 
that filled the passing days 
with meals and duties done uncounted
The burning came on this.
Into ordinary lives that laced the past and present times
From honest faces free of fear 
To questions poised and answered true with only mild trembings of tears
to flesh wrenched chasmed screams unmade
because their voices died away
in racked remaindered eons filled with pain.
That someone's cleric might find gain.  

The times of Burnings
Lost from sight of historied page
Their sorry plights, dismissed, ungauged.  

Only women, shrugged, distained.
Only women's blooded pain.  

In twists of time removed from saged returnings
dismissed to crisp and blacken in endless nights of shackled screams
Emptied homes and unbaked bread
unmothered children left for dead
No stone to mark their passing
Emptied passions in the wake of wordward fashion.  

The times of Burning
Villages that lost their hearts
unwoven clothe left on the loom
unspun lives remarked their doom. 

In twists of time and ravished lives
the women cried and begged and died.  
Witches named for virtues lived.
A time that maimed, defamed and caught
women, of high and low degree
binding all in death drawn misery.  
Women.  
Marked for death that raped and ate
ordinary lives that ended, bent the shape 
of decades made from wrongful thoughts
Seizing all and leaving naught.  

A punctuated, shrugged off event
that stole their lives without defense.  

Twists of time that burn our souls
because their deaths, still unavenged
salt the soil where dreams might grow.  
Justice.  
Word that summons, begged, defied
the psalm of death that tainted lives. 

For justice done can cast out lies.  

47.
Perfect Pastry

Secured on doilied dish, pristine, untouched
With chocolate manner, crisp and light
It promised tastes exquisite, lush
To sooth my angst into delight. 

Raspberried gloss invited tongue
While vanillaed, ambiance promised greeds
would be sated, surcease begun
and unthought delectations made known to needs.  

I breathed in hungers all unknown
Felt the pangs of unfilled life
While saliva beaded my soul bemoaned
the sure confection of each bite.

Untasted thus unknown and left
Life of promise, myself bereft.  

48.
Celestial Orbits Which Touch

In passaged wander marked through time
to run through voids of ethered air.
The winged webs of matrixed minds
kill out reproof, disown despair. 

In circuits terse, arched wide and thin
from course run past to never yet
The coming birth, disjoined will mend
the emptiness of scored regret.  

Metallic mottos retread the Gods
remind our weaved body's souls
That no matter how remote the odds
the longest game remains our goal. 

Ethereal vision wrought in light
Celestialed orb wrenched from the night.  

49.
A Long Waiting
Scored by murmured promises
that rend the mind, divide our hopes
I stand unsure of how to mix
the unsaid words that fate revokes

Redeeming hours lost to lips
that paused when speech refused the breech
This, the echoed force that slips
from lives that torture, sear and screech

A long. long waiting, wrested life
That harbors unseen, restless tides.  

50.
Smile for me

Joyful weaving, time and space
reminds our souls to interlace
Reflecting pasts untapped or known
and all the shadowed former homes

That held the sparkling, refracted thoughts
That owned our hearts and told our doubts
Inciting hungers born in minds
That find election through design.  

Laugh, and linger, touch and stroke
recline in fond and tendered hopes
Remain the cusp and core of soul
That never changing, needs no goal.  

51.
Looking back in Time

Reflected thoughts that age and grey
rekindled hopes removed by fear
Remind my mind of its redoubt
Simmered holdings held in mouths

For paused dreams remander lives
Reproving ages yet unborn
As fulsome laughter lights your eyes
My heart experiences your scorn  

Reflected thoughts that winnow hours
Refining those unspoken dreams
So thus is lost the source of power
Even as your drowned in schemes.  

Elected hopes, refined from thoughts
that magnify the core untouched
Select the future and its droughts
costing us so very much.  

Reflect the life that you would live
neglecting nothing left to give.  

52.

Anti-Matter of Little Moment
Time slips and slithers, washed from hands
that carry burdens and demands
Antiquated, fragiled thoughts
thinned by unsaid time honed truths
Release our intellects, reprove our doubts.  

Ragged reason, cognite tool
fractures on some new made rules
Thus have the moments held and taught
Since punctuated by times sharpened tooth
Gained both weight and cultured clout

Once, and once and once again
Exchanging thought can still begin.  
This, the mote that said, amends.  

53.
Child

Our children hold our only tangible promise of immortality.  
They bind us to the fate of the world by the heart strings. 
I never knew the naked depths of fear until I had children to lose.  
And I never knew the completeness of uncalculating love until I held a baby in my arms.  

All in all, it was the best deal I ever made.  

54.
Letting Go Illusions - To Craig Franklin

The tendriled tug of memories reproves my reasoned thought
Sharp and sweet that idylled time, devoid of all but drought
Sanctuaried, love made place
Where I have lingered in embrace

With that one imperfect, personed soul
Who spun out love in raptured flows
Of song borne thought entrancing, glad
Reminding, lighting, the life I had.  

Illusioned figment of my mind
Where only grief and sorrows bind
The soul seared silence that you left
Leaving me consumed, bereft.  

This, the logic of your acts
Stark and violent, ugly facts.

This the unmade years I'd given
Disposed and sneered, my heart so riven.  
That even logic turns away
When so little remains to do and say.  

My hand, that still, still longs to touch
Mind reproved, it winced but trusts
Because love filled, consumed, forgave
Till nothing there was left to save.  

Addicted to the thought of you
Now realized: who I never knew.  

So mind - release your argued wish
Logic, reason delve and sheer
Revoke the memoried source, dismiss
The undone presence once most dear

Remove the Craig who was my heart
That I might breathe, live on, restart
The life I forged from living will
that pain in me be stilled.  

55.
Finding Place in Chaos

Structures, mythic places wrought, 
in human action found in thought
Sustain our cherished place in time
a sure cognition of the mind

Structures fail us when we pause
to read the clarity of laws
Revealing what is true and not
the things we have so eager, sought

Structures; neverland of what we wish
revokes complacence to dismiss
The certitudes that hide and frame
the yesterdays that once detained

Question structures, own your soul
For only questions reveal us whole. 

56.
The Fading Light

The shadows lengthen to remove 
the coursed thoughts that masked delight
Contentment, encroaching condiment
reminds the spirit, confines our sight

To what has nurtured, held and touched
the quiet hour of day that trusts
Confiding all its memories
This, the time most like to please.  

Lilaced masking that confines
the vivid wishes, morning born
The deep breathed chalice of the mind
harbored keep against the storm.  

This hour savored, tasted, owned
Reminds the soul you aren't alone.  

57.
Thistles

Spring-fed suppled, barely grown
the thistles seldom show their thorns. 
Waxing into yearful fruit
the tiny hooks rear up their shoots

Clasping, working, into flesh
into hair, in time locked quest
Thistles living out their lives
spreading promises and lies.  

Promised beauty, joined with thought
Gravid need that can't be stopped

Thistles

Unthinking knowing, breeding on
into a future’s seeded lawn
From voids of past that saw the same
without the structure of the name

Thistles

Genus, kingdom, named and writ
the plant that nabs with time tried wit
Life insists that it continue
A war within the cusp of meadow

Thistles

Blended growing, poised in time
To render true their self-made kind

58.
Blending Thoughts

Our thoughts combine in cadenced dance
reminding motes of fractured time
That this, the pivot of life's chance
plays out in metered, fleeting kinds

Each breath removed from future owned
each smile given into dark
Remembered love, a precious loan
that carries us to blending sparks

Sparks of life that seried move
through rapture, raging, lost, despair
To remember eyes that prove
that someone in that void did care.  

Blending thoughts that make us whole
Fractured thoughts that tell us so. 

59.
Remembered Pain

A ravaged life that poured out love
distorted, stolen without thought
Remains to sear with harsh reproof
In quiet cloistered, sad, redoubt

Who took the gifts that offered life?
Whose calloused greeds have emptied hearts?
Whose unremitting, unbottomed needs
Disowned honor, denied belief?  

A million takers, feed on truth
feasting on our lives and trust.  
A million, million, throughout time
Continue to repeat their crimes.  

Through fraud, coercion, force they take
The lives that touch theirs own and make
A banquet of those trusting souls 
Who gave and gave for common goals  

Wives who labored, stayed at home
Creating place and future hopes
Their lives ripped out from part-make looms
Investments stolen with their scope.  

This, the kind and part of men
Who feed on trust, again, again.  

60.
Pauseful Wish for Amusing Summer

Vedaed, UFOed and informed, 
that mysteried lives are unadorned
That myth and fact don't intersect
When actually they make one set

The world, in process, partly seen
By eyes that hold what minds will bring.  

The life of authored thought deployed
Speaking, writing - and annoyed
Tersely written, to reflect
Exasperated they can't detect
The edged touch of myth and fact
With minds that try and trying, lack.  

Fun to be a savant sage
Exasperating to pay the wage.  

You wait, expectant, for light to dawn
While others scratch and fumbling, yawn.  

The single mind intuits much
Retrieves the threads of former thought
And still will miss the barest touch
Of integrative, futures sought.  

But human minds, those wondrous tools
Remand the intellects of fools
For all go into what will be
Unconscious of the world they see.  

61.
A Fine and Thorough Grieving

It fills up lungs with rancid aches
That rake the futured worlds unsummed
It scores my skin and binds and breaks
Unwritten songs that die unsung.

Grieving

Chaliced holding of love unmade
That excises pleas, reproves all hope
This, the unplumbed source displayed
To all who know the heart revoked.  

Grieving

Burning into deepest places unrelieving

Lost to eyes that held and touched
Lost to arms, encompassed lusts
Lost to voices, broken words
Lost to ears that strained and heard

Grieving

Bitter fragments, shards of thought
That held belief in what is not.  

62.
Shadows on the Lips of Time

Brave houred lives that flow the course
Reproving vanities sublime
This, the fractured thought derived
From all summations of design.

Tendriled sparks, unspoken love
Uninvested, unseen breathes
Derange the conscious taken path
Leading us to misspent deaths.

Actions taken, actions owned
Actions wakened, truth will hone
Shards of wakened, time turned truth
That crystallize the source of youth.

I listened to the things not said
And smiled at whispers which cancel dread.  

63.
Waxing Life Reproves Our Doubts

Life swells with promised futures wrought
In time blessed interest spending thought
Life, the process from which Time gleans
The woven substance of our dreams

Dreams; becomings crystalled form
Which refutes the lies of Nature's storms
Remanding all the unseen whens
That unremembered test Time's end

In process caught we strain to see
That manifold reflections breed
A larger world that can be thought
Untasted futures not yet sought.

When slumber evades your peace starved needs
Remember this, all time still weaves.  

64.
Passaged Time

Seasons tasted, owned, and tried
Create the world in which we live
Seasons savored, honed, implied
Refute that we've none left to give

Works continue past our years
With well considered force retained
Works elemental course of tears
Into lives that gave as well as maimed.  

Seasons.
Time for passion spent in acts
Time to taste the fall of tears
Paused to reconsider facts
That understood, relieve our fears.

Seasons.
Beginnings that reprove our doubts
Dreams that carry us past now.  

64.
Unowned Thought
Lighted majesty of unowned time
Removed by acts that course and cross the void.
Rebel from destiny of echoed hopes
That touched the sanded need of ventured joys.  

Foresworn

Reminded child of uncommon needs
That touched the cusp of untried vaults of time
That seried acts might satiate the greeds
Of appetites that feed on Truth’s decline  

Foresworn

Coarse reprimand that blinds the eyes divine
That Spirit thought might languish and decline
Denied untrammeled course of Time’s becoming
The blossoming of Man; cacaphoned dunning

Foresworn

In worded shrouds that pall, distort and maim
Deny the verities of light and time
Still, frightened things whose needs must clinch and shame
Confounding human hopes to unsaid crimes

Foresworn

This, the idled greeds which made the Now
Shall sheer and fracture, given edged thought
Because of all the unsaid vows
The future, yet unseen is still most sought.  

Foreswear, again, again, and yet the past
Remakes distortive cloth, reweaves the ash.  
Jasmine Series - 1 - 64

                     Begun April 24, 1999