Ink Blot

I am an ink blot
On blank paper
I began as an idea
An action well-intentioned
But the instant that the pen had struck
I went in all directions
Through the microscopic contours
Connecting all the lines of fate
One path leads me to the next
I follow every fork
I open every door
What started as a point
A fertile but unplanted seed
Has grown and multiplied
Quite organically
And what was meant to be a tree
Is now a patch of weeds


Your Beauty Lies Behind Your Eyes

Your beauty lies behind your eyes
And not in front of mine.
Within the creases of your smile
And humble self-denial.

I do not love you for your looks,
But for your choice in books.
The greatest virtues you possess
Can’t hide behind a dress.

Your laughter I adore
Above the flavor of your lips.
Your form is so much more
Than the curving of your hips.

If hair and teeth were to depart,
No less would you possess my heart.


Feet tappin’, head boppin’
Fingers twitchin’, they ain’t stoppin’.
Unimpeded soul translation;
Empty minded recitation
Emotions flowing to the page
Boundless love to seething rage
Imagination running wild
Reality has been exiled
Finally free from all oppression
Indulging in my mind’s obsession
Living out a fantasy
In an absentee reality
Carried by the cadency
Of a rousing melody

(More) Mice in the Attic

There are mice in my attic.
I hear them every night.
As soon as it gets quiet
They start to scratch and bite.

I waited for a minute
For them to take a rest
But those bastards are persistent;
A clear and present pest

It was clear I had no power
And so I plugged my ears.
But after half an hour
I’d almost gone to tears.

Skritching, scratching, nipping, gnawing
Someone make it stop!
Biting, digging, chewing, clawing
My head’s about to pop!

It’s like a thousand tiny feet
Are scrambling up my spine.
Marching along a busy street;
A never-ending line.

All of my other thoughts consumed.
Each word becomes a cuss.
All hope of restful sleep is doomed
By this rodent ruckus.

For a time I fed them poison,
A temporary fix,
And probably the reason
That I myself was sick.

There are mice in my attic.
I hear them every night.
As soon as it gets quiet
They start to scratch and bite.

I’m not sure how they got there
Or how to get them out.
I raise my fist into the air
And try hard not to shout.

Now, with poison off the menu
I’m anxious for a way
To evict them from this venue
Before the end of day.

With the glittering of madness
In a red and sleepless eye
I conjure a new plan that’s
At least as mad as I

I find and block all entrances.
I will not let more in.
All alone I’ll take my chances
With lingering vermin.

And yet they seem to multiply
Despite my brave blockade.
Regardless of how hard I try
I cannot stop this raid.

It seems they’ve taken residence,
I’ve waited far too long.
And now I’ve set the precedents
Which cannot be withdrawn.

If my home is what they’re after,
I logically conclude,
I must tear down every rafter
And throw out all the food.

Deprive them food and shelter;
The only way I’ll win.
So I pick a sturdy crowbar
And promptly I begin.

The plaster falling down like snow
Is like a winter dream.
And yet somehow I think I know,
Things are not what they seem.

There are mice in my attic.
I hear them every night.
As soon as it gets quiet,
They start to scratch and bite.

Mice in the Attic

To the comfort and protection
Of my bedroom I retire
For a moment’s introspection
Before the rest that I require.

Alone I let the day’s demands
Fade like echoes in the vale,
Like grains of golden hourglass sands
Draining from a pregnant pail.

The soft, warm welcome of my sheets
Beneath a heavy down embrace.
The cool kiss of my pillow greets
Me gently on my burning face.

I close my heavy-lidded eyes,
Release the grip of neck on head.
A chorus of contented sighs
Announces my descent to bed.

Ere dreams began, my soul inferred
A gentle but incessant itch.
A scratching felt as much as heard
Which caused my weary eyes to twitch.

With tightened lids and measured breath
I will for sleep to swift return.
Naught save the endless peace of death
Could grant to me that which I yearn.

The sounds that come from up above
Attempt to burrow through my brain.
I grasp my pillow and I shove
My head beneath to block the pain.

I can’t avoid nor hope escape
Incessant and unending scrape
all I hear is small teeth gnawing
Scratching, biting, digging, clawing.

I writhe in vain ‘neath the blanket
Need to act, I cannot take it.
There’s something in that needs be out
More violent than a primal shout.

I leap and punch the ceiling where
I hear the sound and hope to scare
These tiny creatures into stopping
All their scraping, chewing, popping.

I try and try to no avail.
Each plan appears destined to fail.
Fury borne of desperation
Grown from simple agitation.

Well past peaceful resolution
Or any hope for absolution
I grab the witch’s implement
And strike with malicious intent.

The ceiling hence is perforated;
Defenses I have penetrated.
Now I can see into their lair
And I will kill them all, I swear.

Yet still I hear them nipping,
And more tightly I am gripping.
The rage surges up within me
And I start swinging violently.

Falling down upon my face
Revealing only empty space
Things that should have stayed unknown
Now to the light are shown.

In spite of my heroic feats,
Whose evidence covers my sheets,
The fitful chewing yet resumes.
Their gnashing teeth my thoughts consumed.

Digging at my spine.
Digging at my mind.
Why won’t they leave?
Are they that naive?

To clear this infestation
I would go to any end.
If I must I’ll burn it down
And start all over again.

The Kiss

Found this in the archives from September 1997…  Got a bunch of other old stuff too, but mostly unfinished.  Not really sure if this qualifies as finished, but I apparently thought so back then.

Your vigor and vitality
Has drawn me in to you.
I love the way you look at me
and all the things you do.
My heart has known no greater pain
As when my lips you kiss
But that which did your kiss contain
Would leave me with great bliss

A Burden Shared

What was, from her, forcibly taken
He has, for her, freely forsaken.
It is in his heart to share
The burden that is hers to bear
And yet, despite his selflessness
He cannot grant her this.
Misery would not divide
But only multiplied;
Pain, it seems, does not accept
Lavoisier’s precept.
Anguish can’t convert to joy,
Nor can Happiness destroy.
When, together, all they’ve known
Is how to be alone,
Without a shared belief
They will not find relief.
And so they make a leap of faith
Into each other’s arms.
And in this desperate, last embrace
Reclaim forgotten charms.