Mirror mirror, on the wall
Tell me how the fallen, fall?

Well now, come now, let me show
All the pain I've ever known...

Mark my words, I marked my skin
Thin red lines of crimson sin

Seeping through their open wounds
The more I made, like blossom, blooms...

So I was hollow, devoid of all
I am how the fallen, fall

Mirror, mirror, just a mask
All they'll see is shattered glass...

Unaware of these scars
for they are beneath the skin.
The air of radiance and joy;
a facade,
one that fools even I.
Still, there's no escaping the night;
the lonesome quiet,
the heart's drumming,
the mind racing,
igniting a riot.
No calm by the sea
or by city light,
by white sand
or gray concrete.
This visceral yearning
will not cease.

a heart is wild
a beating, throbbing beast
held prisoner by the ribcage
hardly contained
within this bony enclosure
ready to leap
right out of my chest
and consume you

poetry runs like blood through my veins
words strung together to emote beauty
or pain, a beautiful necklace wrapped
tightly around my throat, the things
I'm dying to say dripping from
the tip of my tongue. Honey or poison,
both sticking to my gritted teeth,
unable to escape and create
the beautiful poetry
bleeding on the page

If she were to touch you
                taste you
                hear you
                observe you
Fingers tentative
Mouth pliable
Ears fine-tuned
Sight keen
You would taste
like stardust and glass
like galaxies and rust.

Listening as the
Sea hears the moon--
                           Cascading flow or
Pulling away--
                               Melded in
*******
                            Tortured ecstasy.
Creating
                             A thousand words
For every birds
                                Eye picture--
My body giving
                                 In to my mind.
My soul somewhere
                                   In-between
Silent worlds
                               Of unseen eyes and  
Inward  probing.

                               This neurotic moon
Swaying visceral waters.  
                                 Deeper currents not
Complying  as yet in
                                   This cosmic
******.
                                   Light & matter      
Darkness & void
                      Affecting only the surface--
Pulling back
                          Only waves.
Pushing them back
                                 To the ever-changing
Shoreline.
                             When affecting
Only the surface  
                                   It appears to
Be dull monotony
                             At the beck and call of the
Moon's every whim...
                                           Oh  
And other orbs play
                           Their part with her.

But infinitely deeper
                            Dramatic ebb and flow
Cannot be witnessed
                           By the seagull's gaze.
The thoughts of the soul
                                Are faint or nil
In the patterns of
                               Vision-mind.  
Our bodies
                         Listening to this galactic
Dialogue seethe
                            In stagnant waters
When the mind like the
                             Moon is all she hears
Or whatever brings
                                In a stronger signal.

We have taken her away
                            Kept her estranged as
Mutated cells eating away
                                  Conformed to the
Image of an empty shell
                                  Of a neutral network
Caught in a degenerative loop--
                                    A dense
Gravitational pull slowly
                                Leading her along
Into the vortex of the
                                        Absence of light.

Yet something our minds
                               Cannot understand as
Yet is developing
                          Out of sight-mind   after
The imploding of her
                                  Beautiful mass.
After
                             The burning-out of
Countless worlds.
                                      Beyond
Even the farthest reach
                                   Of the poetic eye--
A genesis beyond Eden
                                      Attempting with
Greater resolve to
                            Orchestrate the divine
Purpose of the
                              Primeval garden
Rearranged
                            And tuned to higher
******* harmony
                                           The new
Birth of soul leading
                                        Body & mind--
Her voice
                   Being the gravitational orb
Swaying visceral
                     Waters and deeper currents
Complying this
                                 Time around.


                    --Daniel Irwin Tucker

There was always something between them
even if later they might say other wise.
From day one their souls forged a connection
and for years they would wander in and out
of each others lives, always disrupting
each time leaving a larger hole.
The last time they spoke, she severed ties
but to cut him out was to cut out a piece of herself
a large portion of her heart, and rib cage
her left shoulder and her trust in men.
He on the other hand, was left with no heart
because she had stolen it six years ago
and he never even noticed it was gone.