A Kinder Soul

I’ve rarely met a kinder soul,

So full of inner feeling.

Doctor, surgeon, rabbi, priest,

Shamen, all know healing

 

Of such a type that mends a life

But none as clear as this.

The sort that gives without compromise,

Asks not for a kiss.

 

Though merit due to such a one,

Deserving so much love,

Shall one day know the glories of

The love from up above.

 

Until then this friend shall be

A friend to those who seek,

In silence they communicate,

No words they need to speak.

 

But those that are, are clothed in form

As angels shining bright.

My love to friend goes travelling

Out beyond the night.

 

Some friends there are who shall be named

And others who shall not

But, friendship still, their value, worth,

None, like this, is bought.

 

 

 

 

Knock and Seek

I move through rooms,        

Through different doors

On different levels,

Different floors

Of consciousness

In flightless mode,

Testing ground

On different roads.

Tapping surface just ahead

With sightless eyes

Within in my head.

Earthly tremors

Make me shake,

In moors of mire

I do quake

And flounder,

Drowning, gasping air

For evil monsters

Hide down there.

They grab my legs

And pull me under,

Spirit, mind

Are torn asunder.

Hands reach out

And pull me up,

Then offer me

The golden cup

To sip of life,

Not gulp so fast,

To savour it,

So it may last

A lifetime of

Exploring meaning,

Cherishing,

While also leaning,

Heavily,

On others’ might,

Struggling less

With what is right

And wrong

Or bad

Or good.

Implicitly,

They’re understood.

Some doors are locked

For my own sake,

May open when

Sleep does take

My soul to

Regions unexplored,

Found by some

And so, adored.

If I knock

And no one comes

I’ll figure this

Is one such one

That hides its truth

For later days,

When, creaking,

It will open wide,

Revealing treasures

Now to hide.

Through this mansion

I explore,

Tapping each

And every door.

 

 

Courted By Terror

The following is a collaborative piece done with Simon over at http://isimonfiction.wordpress.com/

A fabulous poet with a flare for matching style and content.

 

Eyes open wide, I lie quite still

In nightmare’s frozen grasp

While chilling hands reach out to me.

In silence, I scream and gasp.

 

This latest victim gripped by fear

In night, my precious friend,

With stealth I move, ever close,

Another soul to tend.

 

Paralysed hold has made me bold,

My insides start to quiver,

Limbs cannot move to aid or flee

But tremors, inside, shiver.

 

I sense her terror, intoxicating,

A drug that spurs me on,

Her beating heart and panting breath,

To me, a siren’s song.

 

Only wakened eyes can see the one

And terror courts my soul,

While human manifested lust

Envelops body whole.

 

Revealed to her in gloried form,

Such fear so swift engendered,

Dark desires, so physical,

Soon powerfully rendered.

 

The fear, such fear, does haunt me still,

Suppressed as best I can.

This darkened lover in the night

Had not the face of man.

 

These glowing eyes of hellish depths,

Of fire and ice in fusion,

Drink in her form so prostrated,

From a face not one bit human.

 

At shudders end, I claimed my body

But sat up staring wide

Who had penetrated me, untouched,

But felt so deep inside?

 

Withdrawn from deed so darkly done,

My presence deep within

No touch of flesh so needed

To grant an inner sin.

 

I looked to see in mirror’s frame

And laughter I heard there,

A distant sense of eyes beheld,

Reaching from some lair.

 

I watch reaction from afar

As she stares at her reflection.

My wicked mirth I cannot hide

At our newly formed connection.

 

Molested by the darkest night

And darkest soul of all.

Orgasmic pleasure be subdued,

Temptation from the Fall.