To the stars, I sing my lullaby
To the petals of the rose
I whisper my secrets
They know
and they will never tell
~~~
© W.R.R. 10/31/1995
To the stars, I sing my lullaby
To the petals of the rose
I whisper my secrets
They know
and they will never tell
~~~
© W.R.R. 10/31/1995
She is strange, a new creature
but the mate of another
I watch her
I wonder how her words would fall
if she gave them to me?
Would they cut?
I watch her
and I dream
but she is not for me
Such as I can never touch
such as she
~~~
© W.R.R. 10/12/1995
My hands shake, watching
as clothes are pressed
memories of tears and pain
Fear in the kitchen
the blade that cut my voice
waits to help with cooking
It talks sometimes
eloquently mocking
Fanged Charybdis waits
in steel basin, chattering with Blade
It was cheated, and won’t forget
Up with the iron, steam issues a hiss
Cambodian Garage, rusted locks
orange serpent speaks out of
red and black mouths
metal teeth clamp
Up with the iron, steam hiss
smoothing, pressing
but the cloth has no voice
and cannot scream
~~~
© W.R.R. 7/5/1995
I watch you
the light in your dark eyes
movement of your hair
as you brush it behind your ear
What would I give
to see it move in the wind?
I hold you
watch you pretend
that this is not sin
your nervous glance in doorways
betrays your words
I would know his step, as you would
I take you
rush of breath and wet heat
you are mine, you are mine
and you cleave to me
so hard I bruise
lost in this, blind, deaf, alive
I watch you
as you slip from my bed
unable to meet my gaze
Your feather step in the hall
returning to your prison
as I weep for both our souls
~~~
© W.R.R. 5/5/1995
Memory
like a riverbed
seen from the water’s
shifting surface
For six years
I rely on your version
of my history
Maddening
having no stories
attached to even half
of the lattice-work of my body
My own mind, a labyrinth
for which I have no key
Is there a point to asking why?
Bonds formed in trenches
rarely need to be justified
I look in your eyes now
and see pain without easement
guilt without absolution
But you are merely the jailer
And we both cower
when the Beast is hungry
~~~
© W.R.R. 12/14/1994
Catch of breath
touch of velvet
all is lost
blind and groping
until your touch
I cannot care
about the price of this
the precious cream
running under my fingers
is all I know
Come what may
in morning light
to touch you
is worth death
~~~
© W.R.R. 6/27/1994
Caught in the pull
of emotion new and strong
I drink deeply
of the fount you offer
Remains of my fear
lay at our feet
in a tangle of cotton
From you, I knew kindness
for you, I learned courage
And now I know
the thirst that grows
with every drink of need
This path to your fount
may lead to Heaven
or Hell… I care not
All paths begin and end
in you
~~~
© W.R.R. 1/15/1994
I begin to understand this thing we do
as you guide me again to Heaven
Your touch sears me, engulfs my mind
and I want this, more. And more
You laugh quietly as if you might be heard
but I know all is quiet and safe
as you teach me, allow me, take me inside
to make me the man he won’t be
Deadly to look on you in love
when not alone
~~~
© W.R.R. 1/11/1994
Empty
pulled by life
yet between life and life
abandoned in dark needs
wanting, unwanted
Endless
Despair
as Oedipus erupts for my shame
Death weds Pain
under blessing of madness
~~~
© W.R.R. 12/7/1993
Why am I invisible?
Why have I always been?
Why am I the thing to blame
for your life being empty
a hollow dream?
I try to be something you could love
learning to crave the pain you give
at least you know me then
I would hold back nothing you wanted
I would give you anything
if only you would love me
But you touch me only in pain
as if you fear any other touch
between us
Do you even know my name?
~~~
© W.R.R. 10/21/1993
I feel it dripping,
everywhere
and fear grips me:
I cannot feel the wounds
Eyes shut tight
with stillborn hope that he will
kill me this time
Hair twist, yank, vision blurs
choked by tears
paths of red, run warm…
not enough, never ever enough
~~~
© W.R.R. 6/30/1993
He doesn’t know me
He doesn’t want to hear me
but I have to obey
Yesterday, he burned me
I don’t want to come to him again
~~~
© W.R.R. 9/22/1990
Through the window, a silent film
a place I don’t understand
where people smile and walk together
hand in hand
Does their story change
behind closed doors?
Or is there something more?
© W.R.R. 8/4/1990
You never talk to me without commands
Aren’t I your son?
I wish I could hear my name in your voice
You never touch me without pain
What have I done?
I wish I could feel that you loved me
You never look at me without hate
How can you be this way?
I can wish – but you never wanted me
~~~
© W.R.R. 7/1/1990