Even Though

even though
our hands have never touched
skin on skin, fingers playing gentle games
our eyes have never looked
upon the crystal hues of longing
our lips never met
in the passions of a lover's embrace
our breath, never mixed
in the words of the early dawn
even though
i know you

-Theo

Life On LIfe's Terms

My sister, 6 years older than me is in ICU struggling for her life. I have been to SC to see her, help support the family, and process some of my emotions. I love my sister. I always have. She struggles now with an odd combination of consequences from years of self abuse and neglect. She is, by her own admission, an addict. At times she has managed some recovery. At times she has relapsed. Now is one of those times of relapse.

She has been sedated in ICU for a week now, on a respirator, an antibiotic cocktail and countless other medications to help her try and fight back from kidney failure, a blood born infection, pneumonia and an overdose of prescription medication. She is one sick lady.

All I can think of today, is a poem I wrote a few years back (see below). She positively loved it and felt that someone had finally captured in words her deepest angst. Strangely, I understand what she means. I know that life has been for her a real struggle to find peace. She is stuck in some deep emotional mire, and has not chosen to feel and deal with her being.

I wish for her recovery... from her illness and her disease. Disease...to lack ease.

I love you, Sis.

I Want to Bleed

i want to bleed
let the ruby stream flow
from self inflicted wounds of loss
rush forth with all life, zest and hope
pulsing screams of despair
velvet waves overflowing proper boundries

i want to bleed
washing out decaying debris
rotting carcasses now swept away
foul organic rot lifted from the land
of now remembered errors
move on, ever away to another place

i want to bleed
until the last drops fall silently
tears of silent agony upon now parched land
leaving only dust, lifeless shadows
passed by all but a few
mindless of the flood that once flowed

until they too long to bleed

-Theo

More Than Shadows

When dreams become more than wisps of shadows
Caressing latent longings to the surface
Streams of want filling cavities now cracked, neglected
Then, awareness cocks its head
Points a boney finger into mental darkness
Searching for something more than faint tendrils of artistry
Shadows become more
Dreams as real as the loins of entwined lovers
Lusts materialize
Upon unkempt linens, covering no secrets
I awake to the dawn dripping
Searching again, wanting more
When shadows become more than whispers

-Theo

Twilight Thoughts...

In memory and dream, my thoughts often turn to those moments of contact, when Muse meets soul and the world can dance...

A.M.

morning's sun lifts its sphere
tendrils radiate
into the new day
in frozen time
that eternity of the moment
they reach me.

will i feel their caress
a vital gift
or
be pierced and lie spilling myself into the pit?
i breath, yet.

-Theo