The Lighthouse

My foundation rests on the unknown,

Curiosity crashing against the briny banks

Stability adrift in opposite direction.

I am the sole savior that stands between a hundred lost,

And solid ground.


I guide vessels to and fro


wet wood washing,

Weary faces weeping,

Cloth sails, and drowning hopes.


Asleep I lay during the day


Until sundown,

When purpose becomes pivotal

Using sources of strength to save


I am a solitary structure.

Doomed to watch others set sail,

Never able

to best the unknown,

For my purpose is to prevent;

Carry from

Conflicting waves


Comforting shores.

Will I ever bear witness to

A sight

Other than the raging currents

Culling in the dark?


It was a poison in our veins.

Spread from my lips to hers

Paralyzing the present,

Our minds seizing the future

-or so we thought.

How we stopped living for ourselves

And began living for each other

Putting personal feelings aside

As the tumor of untouched emotions festers

Stars dimming in the smoke

The last moments drowning

For now,

We are but dried petals

Gradually decomposing

Our inner warmth fading as eyes become cloudy

with tears

Or with the death

Of a terminal dream.

Footsteps, footsteps. Footsteps!

Blue shoes tapping on brown boards

Screws withstanding the stories of

Hundred who wish to seek the next.

The ocean below is barely audible,

Shouting seas replaced with

Tires rotating on rubbery cycles.

Shutters close and teeth exposed

As one thousand eyes are magnified

Through lenses capable of

Stealing a smile from Father Time.

Vibrations calling out the names

Of every sound that has passed

Some full of childlike joy, while

Others whisper of quiet contempt

But they all flow, in harmony,

As footsteps continue to pass

By my chilly ears.

Improper Timing

I feel the changes coming

Some fast, some crawling, 

And some that have

Yet to move.

They keep coming

In drones,

At the most inappropriate of times:

When one is writing,

Or dreaming,

Or loving.

We attempt to remain

Like statues;

However, even marble is eroded.

Fear not when the heart

Suffers the same fate as Jericho,


Change seems to come with the number seven.