Quandary

The White Knight.

Pure

Innocent

Giving up his life for her, them, and anyone who needs it.

Wants desperately to heal.

The Black Knight.

Evil

Corrupted

Sacks cities for curiosity

Willing to push until all are conquered

Often viewed as the two sides of the coin.

So how did I end up in Grey?

Spur

Passion's problem.

A snake in the grass with poisoned fangs.

A euphoria

That turns to frustration.

Misunderstandings.

"Never thought YOU would be suicidal," he says. "Never meant to imply."

Passion's problem.

Words misunderstood.

One language with multiple meanings.

"I am sorry," she replies.

He hears a soul upset.

"Don't apologize," he intones. "I overreacted."

Passion's problem.

The simple is complex. The quiet is a cacophony.

Words on a page cannot carry the meaning of voice.

Stuck outside the tower and looking up, he says,

"A rock I might be...but I need firm ground to hold.

Even a rock can slip."

She stares back at his eyes.

The left with a fleck sadness and understands:

It was never his intention to push her, but she now sees

He has to help others for himself.

Ignosce Mihi

And that is not Passion's problem.

Flicker

You are the flower in the weeds
The bauble in the sequins
In a cacophony of sound.
You are welcome silence.
You are happenstance in a world of figures and logic,
A candle in a lit room
And in my mind...I'm a snowflake in rain.
The room left for me is wasted;
The heart kept underwater.
The mind creates reason upon reason....
The curve of her lips drips honey and vinegar all at once.

The happenstance?

I won't take that room.
The words ring again and again,
"Not in love with you."
So the walls get thicker and thicker, and I wait
Alone.
So it goes.
Yes, you can
Lock the door.
A gossamer awaits me through the veiled shadows.

Falling.

My soul drops,
And God laughs at me.
A hearty chuckle that reveals his plan for me:

Solitary confinement.

Charity

Quiet, hot thoughts slice up my spine.
A mark for each trip to Heaven.
A notch for each descent into Hell.
Pulling chords as the universal song reaches a crescendo
And silence fills the hearts around me.
Their songs become mine.
A cacophony of discord thrashes throughout my being.
Water cannot quell.
Multiplicity adds duplicity and
Animosity gives way to virtuosity.
A note.

And my soul sings in the darkness of fate.

Moments

We share a secret laugh.
"Look at that ring," I start to whisper to you.
Your eyes silence me with an almost deafening
scream.
"but the ring," I start again. "It's like a seal."
You try not to laugh.
Stifling.
You lose the moment and hide it.
Cough, cough, cough.
And your eyes come to mine again,
only this time it's not a scream.
It's a smile.
Glinting.
A quiet belly laugh.
And the sun peeks out from behind the clouds for a
moment.
He's been tickled and wants to see who did it.
But the clock ticks forward, and the moment
ends.
So I sit in my corner and pretend to understand what's going on.
The sunlight gives way to the cold.
I step into the wind and hope the four pieces hold together a little longer.
A weight attaches to my leg, and the label reads failure.
Contemplation allows another parasite to attach. This one named compassion.
Willpower is not enough, and fear grows stronger.
The blue glow of hope fades.
As my knees hit the ice, you keep walking too fast.
"I'm here," I say. The scream is stifled like your laugh and comes out as a
whisper.

And when all is said and done, there is a small ember,
hiding,
in the personal hearth, and it will burn soul into tatters.

Patience

If I could hit rock bottom,
I could push off and start up toward the surface.
Weighed down by the twin stones of shame and anger
I struggle against the murky depths.
"Pointless," the first voice screams.
My hollow chest answers with an echo.
I attempt to pull up again.
"Fleeting," the next voice laughs.
My arms and legs burn with the last of life.
Thrashing.
Seven small rays of light shine through, but are unattainable, unreachable.
"Let go," the last voice whispers.
Still waters pull me to God's face.
And the infinite silence is my welcoming party.

Dream or nightmare? I don't know anymore.

Lesson Learned

Your hand in mine,
Like a gnat on a truck.
A snore as loud as a mewing kitten
Trickles in my ear and wakes me.

The hands are soft while enclosed in mine.

You are the proof good exists;
The answer to the question of why we are here.
Your time here is a fraction of mine, but you are stronger
And aptly named.

A moment, and my eyes are reflected back at me.
A knowing smile to say that all is well before returning to Nemo.
Fear grips me again as the full timeline plays out,
But a sigh and small hand alleviates this.

This is a journey taken with each other.
I will battle the monsters;
You will teach the lessons.
Together we will help her.

You move in a zig-zag and constantly call for catching.
The crowd bows to your charm and bends to your name.
But I thank you for your real lesson.
For the very essence of why you're here for me

Thank you for teaching me the three words,
of wisdom, of caring, and of existence:

I love you.

Now go to sleep.

Babble

Our words don't mesh.
Up is red,
Black is purple,
Right is blue,
Lies are gold.

Our views don't sync.
You see a hero,
I see a villain.
I see a good heart,
You see flaws.

Our ideals aren't met.
My ground is firm as rock,
Your sky is limitless.
Your soul sings like the sun streaking across the sky.
My soul no longer exists. A casualty of benign dictatorships.

And yet, we both are caretakers.
Me of you.
You of them.
We for those coming with us.
And the rest.

Words die off the vine, and I can no longer hold on.
You cut with the stronger sword and leave me vulnerable.
A bleeding stone, a sinking island, a dulled knife.

The mirror cracks, and I shatter.
With no glass, there is nothing there.
I'm on the wrong side of the skin.

What does it matter?
The words are not understood

And the tower is finished.
How can this be?

Inkling Wordled

The poem, "Inkling", put through Wordle.

Celluloid

The movies say two people fall in love and are
together forever.
But the movies always end before the real life begins.
Fighting.
Struggles.
Jealousy.
Bitterness.
Regret.
Sometimes.

The prince cannot be on a white horse if he's holding down a 9 to 5.
The princess can be a great beauty but only if she let's go of her insecurities.
The villain sometimes wins.

So the princess has an affair with the villain to regain the thrill,
and the prince dies when his horse throws him awkwardly.

But daddies don't tell their little girls these stories,
because hope is the only currency of youth.

So the painted prince and drawn princess constantly smile
the happy ending
for us.