The Facade

May 8, 2017

She said something odd
Into his ear as they moved
Together, blissfully silent
In the darkest of hours.

He stopped, abruptly,
Confusion across his face.
Her breathy whisper was
Quiet, but very clear:

“With wounds as old
As original sin, we prey
Upon the weaker flesh.”

In the morning, she lay
Amongst the silences of
Her own wrongdoing…
He’d never be seen again.


Darker Times

December 9, 2015

The moments that are coldest
Are those when you can see
The cracks in time, like glass
Splintered in a windshield.

Even though it will not snow,
The winter still bites, teeth
Sinking deep into old wounds:
It is the dark time now.

Each midnight passes, frozen,
Waiting for that icy sunrise to
Peek over the horizon and warm
Us in its temporary glow.

But however long it may take,
The cold never stays forever.



April 17, 2014

A once famous Roman
Architect and poet said,
“Only darkness can
Bring clarity.” It seems
Profound until you
Learn that he was
Also blind as well.

For he had seen, unlike
Most, what our lives
Boil down to after all
Is said and done.
He had found that
Behind the quixotic
Smile of men’s muses
Laid a truth about us:
We are no more than
The choices we make.

Our entire universe
Is held together by a
Tenuous thread, woven
By our actions and, often
More importantly, our
Inactions. That as we
All dance in a perfect
And intangible limbo,
The quiet voices of
Consequence play as
Impetus for all we do.
We are endlessly here,
And waiting in the dark.

Blind, but seeing, both the
Beautiful and the terrible.