Clarity in Muddied Waters

A Messianic Journey Through Pen and Peace. Writing from the Stillness Within.

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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam’d upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From Maytime and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

Category: Poems

  • I wanted the ocean in my sight, Now all I’ve got are watery eyes. Salt’s draining out in the tears I cry, It’s starting to sting But I don’t want to be blind.

  • .~•*

    She rattled the doorknob, letting her fingers linger on its porcelain surface as she turned to leave, as though by some gentle enough touch she could will it to open.

  • I swear I’m more interesting But thoughts remain untouched in my mind; What if they were to become mangled upon speaking? So I type conversations That could’ve happened together in person Because that way I don’t have to witness reactions I have time to process Time to think Space to leave.

  • Eyes drawn nowhere, Skittering across dewy propositions. Gaze for too long and that line of sight will sink, Sink into muggy hotness and airy beds of repetition.

  • I search for gold When sitting in a cave of treasure. I dream of resting When I am asleep. I seek beauty Despite the vibrance of my possessions. I want more, When I have no room.