Victors Heart Chimes

    Upon A Quiet Night It’s surreal, this walking upon the earth—jockeying and wrestling with yourself to stake deliberateness, to claim intention, to become something you yearned for, something that once bore fire in your heart. From quiet self-revolution in spaces outgrown, to traversing avenues physical and liminal previously unknown. It is eerie to sit down upon a quiet night and host the ghosts of traveling souls here no more. To hold the voices and personalities of those once loved and tenderly cared for, now revolving in space somewhere else—off in a distant place without a trace, or crossed over to the world beyond. The residue of loves discovered, or connections tempered, never quite fades. Upon a quiet night, if still enough, the atoms in space hoist their charge—their beauty bursts in magnificent ways. The myriad versions of self that became present and possessed your body become strange—variably close in memory. Some farther, some closer. Some buried, some ha...

  Shadow Among Torch Lights I would have once told you even shadows warm when I walk long enough with them. Now in some cosmic role reverse I am the chilling shadow walking among torch lights. Vibrant fire in my heart runs black and gray Embers pass there glow extinguishing into ash. Calculating clear clarity of my eyes dries into a maze of fog. Like Achilles heel clipped, I wander old streets, old spaces, eyes bowed low. A once radiant figure ablaze with boon like inspiration, and an unending sense of purpose bound to his bones, stripped. As if some spiritual covenant broached, signed in blood, was breached. For what transgressions done, I wander in discordant form My silhouette curled around sharp old sins, stunted murmurs echo: where have I been. Pavement marked by spirit seeping through old steps, old paths, a world I am divorced from. The air sings dirges in forgotten tongues. Morning dew falls like memories forgotten— Remnants remain, soon to evaporate away. Silence h...