Wishes

What is a wish?
A hope for something that is to come?
A grasping out into the mysterious
   darkness looking for a rock on which
   we can steady ourselves?
Is it that tiny pinhole of light
   at the end of the tunnel that we run to?

We all have wishes.
We all have hopes
   on which we hang,
   to which we cling
   like a shipwrecked sailor to a buoy.

These wishes are so personal.
So unique to each of us.
Wishes are a fingerprint of
   emotions in abstract,
   colored by kaleidoscopic dreams
  of you and I.

I have a wish.
You have a wish.
They are the same,
a gemini wish for something bigger
   and something better for both of us.
This wish is of the future
   and for the future.
Today it is an abstraction.
Tomorrow,
if we will it,
that wish shall be concrete.
Shared.
Treasured.
Held
Until the end of our days.

No(one) Was There

She opened her mouth to speak,

but the words failed to appear.

Standing there,

in her own hell,

her own electric chair.

No friends were there.

No one was there.

She raised her eyes to see,

but the images were stained in darkness.

Blinded by the night,

she peered into the abyss,

the unfathomable depth of her lost life.

No lighthouse on the horizon.

No one was there.

She reached out her arms to feel,

but only the empty air hugged her back.

Grasping at strings,

hopes and dreams

   that were never really there.

No warm embrace.

No one was there.

Thoughts unbroken,
things left unsaid.
Memories of memories
   like the dead inside my head.
Floating freely across the plain,
twisting slowly down the drain.

Where do they go?
I don't know.
Maybe to the plant,
maybe to the river.
Maybe they go nowhere
   but everyone is somewhere...

Rolling thunder,
never heard my cry.
Flashes of lightning
   blowing by and by.
They light the way
   and color the sky
   even though I am blinded by the rain.

The Last Samurai

Sweetly silence sings to me,
   of such a lonesome melody.
Droplets of blood
    from a warm summer's rain
   move effortlessly down the blade.
There upon the razor's edge
   did I find solace still.
The undoubtable reality,
lust unto a soul fulfilled.

Upon the tip the blood did cool,
and upon the floor it did pool.
A spot so uncharacteristic of
   its cost.
Still the silence echoed
   across the empty plain.
Nothing was left standing,
nothing left to chance.

Far off in the distance
   the mist crept in,
   moving with ghost-like grace.
Enshrouded with joy
   profusely pumping my heart.
Diabolical and unremorseful,
so surgical this art.

Sweetly silence sings to me,
a final plunge so deft.
As I pierce-
for I am pierced
-a torrent that is so free,
The golden moment in this life.
In death I commence to be.