Night Walker

Dripping blood red spires of light
disappear as the sun creeps behind blue mountains
And all sounds seem to grow darkly silent
as the mist billows over the ground
In the eerie twilight all is forgotten

As the white globe punctures the darkness
Shadows grow and become menacing
Yet a strange calmness comes over me

Pinpoints of iridescent light appear,
if only to guide my way
Leading me ever closer to the haunting glow of the moon
With the crickets incessant chirping throbbing in my head

Wandering aimlessly through the open field
Feeling more free with every step
It ends

I awake from my ever-present dream
Relishing in the fact that the night is my only friend
Though I lose it every time I open my eyes

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Like Moths to a Flame

Smooth, satin soft skin
flows under fingertips
as eyes strain to stay
open enveloping all
of her beauty.
Wisps of hair slowly
falling in front of
fawn-like, glossy green,
stained glass windows
to her soul.
Breath quickens while
following the flowing line
down through the perfection
of a nose to pursed lips,
supple and full.
Like moths to a flame,
I'm drawn, magnetized, mesmerized
by the soft curve of her neck
hemmed with silver and pearl.
Fingers cupped around
a clavicle so delicate
and demure.

Just picture the
innocence

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

A White Wizard's Demise

With blue thunder
she arrived,
Sacred fire blazed
in her hands,
leaving ashes as
the only remnants.

Her dark magic sizzled
between fingers so delicate
and white as gossamer,
arcs of electricity danced
between jewels and gold
that adorned these beautifully
manicured fingers,
she pointed one
black glossy fingernail
toward my forehead
and everything was washed
in dusky twilight.

When my eyes opened,
it was to nothing but darkness,
the only shape discernible
was that of a woman,
naked in the inky abyss.

Softly she approached,
measured steps from altar to bed,
her satin slippers softly scuffing
the smooth slate paving stones,
I could do nothing,
it felt as though I was anchored,

Her sharp nail ran
from my temple to my chin,
leaving a small trickle of blood
in its wake,
her whisper, like ice, invaded my ears,
her words, like daggers, embedded in my brain,
her lips, like velvet, brushed my cheek,
and I was lost...

Lost to her frost blue eyes,
her summer pink lips,
her diamond white smile,
and her creamy soft skin...

The spell was simple enough,
any man should and would be
struck dumb with the slightest word,
even knowing this,
I folded like a house of cards.

I was now hers,
to do with as she pleased,
was this what I wanted all along?
was she the one in my dreams ever on the horizon?
More questions to only be answered with questions!

This darkness is my antithesis,
it is what I fight against daily,
and now it is comforting,
like my mothers arms
yet rough hewn like the planks of a ship,
it's darker now...menacing...I feel so...
s
  l
    e
      e
        p
          y.


Was it a dream?
Does she exist?


-'Honey wake up, it's almost time for work.  How many times have I told you  to come to bed when you're tired instead of trying to finish another chapter?'

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved

Broken glass

Elevation
onto pedestals
mostly made
of marble.

My minds eye
sees that you
are high
like me.

Your wings break
from extinguished fire,
my laughter takes me
infinitely higher.

I was already above
the influence, quit trying
to lasso my ankles
with your anchors.

I live in a glass house,
yet I still throw stoners.

© Justin Frieberg, All rights reserved