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Outcome I cannot control reaction I cannot extol to make the world as I wish; the things before must persist. Alas am I, but a man continuing to do what I can. In the end, if my life’s enormous it will be due to my performance. For though the world continues on absentminded of my dreamer’s song, the song alone is my to sing and, you see, this means everything. -           MR, 10/10/11

Only a mile away three minutes to be exact in another life, I’d see you soon. But winter is calling the snow gently falling as the wind bellows building those drifts. Our date must wait but intent must change, for the beauty of the storm calmed this troubled soul. They say it’s the most monstrous blizzard since ’91 - I would need to see it with My own eyes; God’s wrath or love, depending on your perspective and place. I tried bracing the elements, not for you but for me. I couldn’t make it.   But I am Alive. Tough to believe we’re only a mile away, but that doesn’t matter on the day of the Storm. -           MR, 12/17/10

One thing makes sense One thing I do know, That upon the crescent brush with reality and dreams Exists a platitude, so sensational, so creational, So me.   In this place I do know, That reason and faith collide Hope and despair remains embattled, Dreams breathe once more, Longing for the sweet air of tribulation To fill his lungs again. In this state, In my regress, I do know What I know as truth. -           7/10/09, MR

One day, ten years from now, I will sit and think, “where was I ten years ago?” Then, with a rush of joy or despair, I will remember. -           MR, 9/24/08

With squinted eyes, I gaze to see The price listed in front of me. “If that’s the cost,” I calmly mutter, “I will not buy.   I will seek another.” Continuing on, I reason so, Somewhere, somehow, the price is low For competition between two rivals ensue Means a better price for me, for you. -           MR, 7/14/09

Those dark brown eyes Gaze in my direction And for but a moment Our souls are joined as one. In that moment I see All her pain and sorrow, The hate bellowing from within. She pleads to me With what little strength is left To, at once, jump up and save her soul. But as for me, I take pleasure in her disgust; Those tiny hands prying him away. I cry as I think, “I am the villain, solely responsible for her.” I cry as I know, Being even a thousand miles away, I can still damn a soul. 7/10/08 – MR

The slow and steady pour of falling rains brings a consistency to this place. I am awed by its discipline and flexibility. “I choose to rain when I want to rain, and when I choose to rain, I will rain as long and as hard as I want.” I admire its simple complexity. Each falling droplet, so sure of its individuality, risen up from collective pools of living brethren, fall to the earth in fated fashion. Once the tumble is extinguished, the droplet smashes into the earth with force and fury- and in that force and in that fury its rugged and tenacious individual idiosyncrasies are lost once more in the whole- again combined with its fellow, cascading and roving through drains, cracks, ebbs and flows, only to be absorbed in a living body much greater than itself. Then the expressionless cycle will continue over again, in its time, according to its will. It rains when it rains; only then.   -           MR, 6/8/10

Facing these fears one day at a time Is an intricate process of heart, soul, and mind. The self is drained The soul resorted; The mind renewed the heart deplored. Often considered on this lonesome path - Where did it begin? How long will it last? These fears now grown out of distorted reason the most capricious saboteur the ever treacherous treason the wanton will of a friend now foe A changed heart yet he refuses to go holding fast Accepting none his time is now his will is done unless somewhere deep inside shed the light no longer hide from the fears of all these years held so close yet so far – Now is the time sacred rhyme to transpose yourself from paper to life And remember how you used to bow to fears of long ago.

You live in comfort But with so much torment – Don’t you know belittlement Is worse Than a thousand Failed lives? Ironic, of course For failure is of such Swooping phrases And subtle gestures. He thinks you cannot tell By the expressions on his face That your very best is worse than his very worst. He’d do it differently Is what he longs to say, Your path in this life Is far more inferior. What of it! Life is Too short to be dominated By the short-sighted, The ill-contrived, Dulled and narrow mind Of a powerful but simple Soul.

My path is understood By others But not myself.

Is not your normal. It is a rudimentary Convoluted mistake To consider commonplace Two souls as one, United in duplicity And similar in every respect. You are you. I am I. Together our substances Do not equal the same mass. Our fate not tied together By the manifestation of myriad's dreams. My normal Is not Your Normal. -    7/20/09, MR

I broke my string again By playing too hard or maybe too carelessly. Time to replace my old friend. He’s been with me now a few months- vibrations solid, sound good, but he snapped under the mounting pressure of my frayed fingers. I wish he had lasted longer For I do not wish to replace my dear friend, my dear string, my witness to, hearer of, compatriot in my symphonic masterpieces. No other has yet heard what he has heard. He will always be the first. -           MR, 7/15/10

I saw her from the other side- But you see, this great divide Of people, Of chairs, Exists between; It separates my love I thought I’d seen. I could only glance From afar, And remain content With the way things are. 9/25/06, MR

Even though my voice remained steadfast I was shaking inside; For the step I was about to take Would lead me into the abyss of oblivion, To the point of nowhere. And inside that myriad of subtlety Existed a torment so great That no matter how hard I tried to end the pain My soul’s anguish was perpetuated by death’s very life And he, waking my spirit to nightmares I’d not wish on my most hated of enemies Rendered my conscious mind aware Of what idleness can do to a soul If a caretaker should fail to take care. I’ve seen this vision And partook in the experience That legions of the fallen Must surely know.   - 12/30/06, MR

It was the beginning of winter But to my surprise A flock of birds Were flying north. To arid lands and bitter cold Guided by a mistaken leader. They swooped and swayed In circles above As if they knew the way was folly Trying to turn proved a failed endeavor As each bird followed the one before.

I am at an hour I certainly knew was coming The division of self The questioning of soul All in an effort To better understand Me. -           9/11/08, MR

A man with but a dream Of long-awaited love Enlivens his cause By a sweet summer day. The smell of the lilac, The engulfing bosom of the heat, The sun’s peering rays Reminds him of joy And fills his heart of hope for his love. He dreams these dreams Compared to reality; One day, he prays Will come true. For now his sensations Are sweet stipulations, A sign of the overwhelming love Yet to come. 7/7/08, MR

Lovely colors gentle breeze in this moment I feel at ease consumed not by the sands of time instead releasing my souls in rhyme. Beauty rests where I cannot see; Love, Peace and Serenity. MR, 8/4/11

Lost again I look around The way in front cannot be found Constant haze I cannot see the darkened path in front of me. Resist disorientation with all my might In the end it is a good fight but as before and now again it proves to be a fated end. Here the crossraods I must lie While a part of me slowly die Shall I seek life and truth or simple lusts of simple youth? I’d like to think the way unfated I’d like to believe my life understated and that those demons come before will flee and plague no more. Anxiousness has come and passed this wired feeling did not last Even though I slipped as before I take no joy as I did before. Perhaps as light shines down on me perhaps the blind came come to see Time alas will be the judge- Come on God, I need a nudge. -           MR, 8/31/11

Lord here I sit Contemplating it all; An aberration of desire Brings forth Unwanted needs And hopeless conversations. Seeing the horizon Its majestic beauty Of outer rims and conscious will, Struggling against self To absolve the mind Of reasoned indecency. I want what I want I want what I want I want what I want What do I want? I want death. I want destruction. I want a life absent of love. What do I want? I want life. I want progress. I want a life brimming with love. Aforementioned duty Brings me to a recognition That what I want And what I do Revolve along the same Son. To escape reality Into a world of fantasy And succumb thereto Dreams and needs Debased and cruel But accepted nonetheless. I know love, I know hate, Which shall I choose? 9/23/09, MR

There is a light at the end of this tunnel, so difficult to see. comforting, beckoning, calling, it reaches out to me. Reminding me of times before, when I did not seem to care, I expose myself to reason’s logic, and traverse where I should not   dare. Somehow, some way I am saved, time and time again, though I am undeserving, I am guided by this friend. He speaks to me ever softly, in tones of lives past and whispers gently in my heart, “This surely will not last.” Though I fall and fall, into the abyss of dismay and despair, I take comfort in this one truth; You are always there.   This light of mine, to which- at times- I am blinded without sight, leads me faithfully along, though I can resist with all my might.   Then it comes, a hope and peace, so miraculously found, It is then I understand, I am forever bound. Undeserving, Misunderstanding, the beauty of the way, I plant my feet, close my mind, and become firm that I will stay. But alas, I know, this light of mine

Let it flow there’s only one way to vent one way to relieve whatever creeps inside; let it flow. Let it flow those things held so close yet pushed so far away- what do you hide? Let it flow. Let it flow the instruments of need the orchestra of brevity and vice wanting more but stopping short; let it flow. Let it flow and see if you bleed red- or maybe blue, green, orange or silver- maybe transparency shows. You never know you never see you never discover what is of you or me; let it flow. Let It Flow. -11/28/09, MR

The faucet, faucet keeps on dripping But I, I, keep on turning all of me gently yearning that drips of waste would be no more. Thinking, thinking, of those fated souls who want for drink to quench a thirst instead left longing immersed wrapped in time excess cannot understand until excess is no more. Alas, alas, I accept I am but one conscious man conscious though I have no plan to change the ways of a world to influence the sleeping to love my fellows as never before. Try, try as I may there is only one I can control to one I can extol the virtue of which I keep turning to stopped the flood of dripped waste and own my actions evermore. -MR, 8/10/11

Are you Lana or Kristen? I cannot tell. You play damsel in distress So very well. That innocent countenance Needing to be saved, Waiting for Clark Kent To come. -           7/16/09, MR

Today this mind is pondering, Contemplating what’s ahead; Today this eye is wandering, Anticipating where I’m lead. I do not see for certain, The path that awaits this soul; But of the trueness I am conscious, Of the goodness I do know. So in my relative blindness, There exists two paths to choose; One to life, peace, and destiny, The other my soul to lose. 10/19/08

Words into action now is the time it comes down to this; life rises from rhyme. Too many days come to be lost forever, my moment is now in this crucial endeavor. No more hopeless happenstance, No more morbid salute, No more wandering gaze, No more yielding pursuit – It is now. -MR, 4/27/10

Inundated with a request from the flesh Is most difficult for the soul. The two exist in vastly different worlds With changing influences And extraordinary circumstances. They vie for position; One seeks to dominate the other But the two ideally see the same path And seek an identical end Though they would not know If you were to tell them.

Intimacy can be difficult for the beginner. I try but must sincerely ask if I know the way. I’d like to think it is easy, that it is human, understandable even to the muted, deaf, and dumb, but I am sure that it is not so. I am powerless, but not helpless- I will understand soon enough, but perhaps not as soon as I would like. After all, it’s been eleven years absent from trying; lost in a myriad of puzzles, each one more difficult than the one before. Read but do not grasp the words that I write for it is not your experience. take my hand though and walk me through. -           MR, 6/8/10

In this place I can taste A semblance of heaven. A windy day the chimes do say, “listen to our call.” Touching now explaining how Man is come to be. A life as such is enough - love, peace and serenity. -           5/23/10, MR

In front of my eyes Exist eleven names; Eleven of which I care not. Below me, a floor beyond, Exists one name- One name of which I long to care for. But my predicament now As I think through it all, Is that I force my eyes to envision A wantless passion While curbing my heart Of its one true love. Of what end I see Existing before me is this; Boldness or fear. 11/13/08, MR

O ne, maybe more constant recognition of who you are is in them. Don’t worry about upsetting one if you can have them all for en mass you have mass. Worrying creates a state of hopeless regard I realize all the love I need is in my own mind. Protection can be a fucking bitch Because you are left unprotected, with no one on your side. Except them, always them.  You always have them to look after you, to love you, to make you so perfect. Alone you cannot realize a potential but together we can make history. Or fail. -           MR, 9/12/11