…condensed in the snow…as dark and sorrowful as the northern wind will blow…

…only the truth of distrust lies in the shadows…distant as a mother’s touch…

…pain knows I am a fool…no one understands this…better than I do…

…this discomfort…the blink of an icy pond…no longer lingered upon…

…agony taunts me…reminds me of who I used to be…

…pain is a constantly unraveling thread to the tapestry of my soul…

The Cast of Pain

the Mills, Franklin NH

Don’t want to walk through the pain.

But the want…


the need…

are not the same.

There is no religion to the agony.

There is no need for the ache’s shame.


only the want remains.

Only remains a cast of shadow in the day.

The day I stop…

walking through the pain.

No Absolutes, Just Illusions

Time and newness, as of late, want to collide.

Casting shadows upon all that I find.

There is no absolute.

Of this, I am sure.

Yet, into every blind driveway, I stumble looking for a cure.

Respite never lay ahead.mono

It is only the illusion of a detour.

under tow 2

Playmate for Pain

Depicting itself, as a shackle from head to toe.

Beautiful as a, forbidden path in which I dare not go.

Or, a stranger’s strong iron step…taken with ease.

Distracting with the carefree, chatter among the trees.

I can convince myself of the silliness that is provoked.

Antagonized by fragmented sentences that appear to have little meaning.

Lapsed and lulled,

My body becomes part of the deception…every time.

I play along.

Becoming insistent that my frame…disabled…is only physical.

Intact remains my mind.





The Obscurity of Trees

Minus pride,

I gaze upward.

Toward the elusive static that are the fingers of torment.

Arrogant are the attempts to see the obscurities for what…they are.

Nothing but mere intensely formidable, live-in scars.

And, I?

I am nothing but the wick to the flame…burning ever so bright.

Eternally adjusting the delicate balance.

That is my willingness to fight.

The ache needs me for a lifetime.  The will to fight?  It only needs me for today!