The Veil

Darkness and light
from their secret embrace
sends their smiles
with promises
of new life.
The earth trembles
hearing the verses of lies.
Not the cloak
nor sprinklers dry
imposing limp litanies
that drape impotent
as a lifeless thunderbolt
will make a difference.
As wild dances dance
and choruses swell
the veil lifts
to the gates of hell.


Like a whirlwind
he spews his breath
this unstoppable
chariot of fire

Writing Candida- The Making of A Princess

The poems and short stories I have written, including a mystery novel, flowed with ease. This novel is bittersweet with every sentence because of the immeasurable amount of energy I put into writing it.Let me explain.

The conscious and unconscious are mindful energy planes that we all possess. The only difference being the level in which we use them. Candida had questions about her contribution to life. She knows there are more things to be discovered, more truth, and more power in a soul that needs to be set free.

The same energy Candida feels, I feel as I attempt to convey some reason-ability to her story. There are always unanswered questions in hope and faith but in silent steps, one can unveil a thriving will that comes to light. Candida does this in a most powerful sway of realizing the truth of her desires and demands.

What is difficult in writing the story is being able to vividly describe her projected thoughts and will. The passion is so strong that it makes the soul tremble or become totally exhausted in feeling her plight.

The novel is moving at a slow pace but a distinctive pace, one of endurance of the cries of the soul.

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The Dancer

The Dancer
The night I slept, I awoke in a dream
And there you stood, this lovely beam
Casting your poise, your beauty fair
As music dances in midnight’s air.
You are the song of the Troubadour,
The lute and gay tambour
loved of yore.
You dance the mazy dance of old
With your flowing robe laced with gold
And your gay attire and jeweled hair
Brush by me the odors sweet,
Where in a dream I came
To kneel and breathe love’s ardent flame
That lays burning beneath your feet.

Celine Dion - The Power Of Love

A power that never vanishes or scatters in the never ending realm of eternity

Madden Joseph

Madden Joseph

Could we new charms to age impart?
And fashion with a cunning art
the human face.
As you clothe the soul with light,
And make the glorious spirits bright,
with thy heavenly grace,
From mother’s womb
Lay curled in rest
you awaken in that hour
like the bloom on the flower,
exposing its luminous crest.

Dawn

when to my darkened room the flushing East
comes with her comrade sharply-clawed, the Dream,
she wakens me by a bright avenging scheme,
an angel in plume, not the besotted beast.
deep vaults of inaccessible azure there,
before the dreamer sick with many a spasm,
open, abysmal as a beckoning chasm.
thus, deity, all pure clear light and air,
over the fog’s reeking track
— brighter and lovelier yet, thane image flies
in fluttering rays before my widening eyes.
the sun has turned the candles' flame to black;
even so, victorious always, thou art one
— resplendent spirit! — with the eternal sun!

Life

Life


Born first and then thrust
into a world so short the years we live
and we ask; is life, which tho does give,
were life indeed?
With all our sorrows that fall so fast
our happiest hour is when at last
our souls are freed.

Through life and all its tears,
let it not end in bitter doubts and fears,
or dark despair.
Amongst life, so many toils appear,
and he who lingers longest here
knows most of care.

“My only wish is that the people I touch will still feel me when I’m gone.”