I guess it’s so, the rows of streets paved at our feet
Black tar seas, summer’s heat provides the street
The shoe and sun and shallow ***,
Bottles and bottles branding the sill
To help the soul: the full of swill.
Nine and a half sometimes a quarter
Into machines they call a “disorder”.
And to no prevail the summer will hail
A day of peace and a promise of more,
But the day is young and night to old.
And so turn with seared toe and heel
From the papers of tomorrow myself I’ll peel.

One seemed enough to light the world,
But the sundog brought upon two more,
And three was too much.
Love should only be plain if it is spread
too wide.
That cocker spaniel of light snarled
at the stars,
for they only arrived at his leaving.
And he believed in little, unless the moon told him
otherwise,
for the moon never let love be spread too
wide.

That break in brick, layered
Upon grass,
Grew swift and strong,
Blew in rift ever wrong.
At my feet to the crown of
My head,
Gentle gloom cast on leaves
Bored dead,
Papers crying fire nigh,
Fork words of a years lie.

That storm within my head has rotted me so.
Whats to be of the bird mimicking my sanity;
A cry sung to deaf ears, again forgets reality.
So, it grows as the days go by, at knees to a lovers eye
So, love has come, as it will go, forget not to feel;
That which has been felt at that sworn goodbye.
Thoughts of peace torment a soul;
That storm within my head has rotted me so.

That storm within my head has rotted me so.
Frail of resilience against the blowing words torn;
All said of love in absence of light, again is born.
As I was, blind to faith, seeing fly, man’s pale wraith.
A blistering inferno of summers reel;
Of epic sights surging a man standing great.
Yet I, left behind, mustn’t grow,
That storm within my head has rotted me so.

A ridiculed bud sought companionship,
were none lay.
with time slipped, minutes, hours into days,
With all these sorry couples lying proud,
lay the bud quiet,
crying loud.
Crying how it had come, the sunless ray.
the dreary existence
painted to stay.
And so the paint has seeped
following his tears,
the bud looked to bloom
but in this hope
he surely was doomed.

The chickadee sung of dawns brilliant sun,
He drew me young and happy.
Though morning mourned its swift demise,
I smile in life's blinding rhapsody.

The songbird continued a great reprise,
Of emeralds bellies value.
Narrow of sight upon black so bright,
Ever so quick to catch you.

The fallen son in an obsidian night,
Shattered his hope of heart.
Grand amour of a long living jewel,
Enticed a rise from dirt.

I long for the sloping valley, sliding earth free,
For the conquered hill from which is born
            The oak tree.

In all the loveliness the forest presents,
I will observe, quiet, like a servant
            The green tents.

The rain, a lovely song it sings against the leaves;
A drum of nature’s fire,
For which the youth plead.

The day I saw the sun, the day the world and leaves run and the wind blows
When frost quenches the heat of summer and blooming red of fall
When stone narrows and water runs across the new dawn
That day love is still and quiet I will call
I will stay light and
I will not stay alone.
.
.
.
It was man who hummed the first tune of freedom, green and blue and brown
Who forlorn and broken continued to search the seasons and the soul
Who feared the evil of the rift and the allure of brawn
It was a requiem to the birth of our first role
I will not abandon
I will not contest
.
.
.

This beast, wild as the roaring winds,
roams along my peace
seeking with intent to destroy
what i have built.
The snow has fallen as the day before,
yet of its presence i feel a core
melt along with mine.
Unable to salvage the wax wings,
i have grown to large
to brave in the glare of arrogance.

With the earths cool touch i swallow the world
and dream of triumph.

As for the sleeping sun, he has yet to rest his mind
The clouds persuade him to cry bright yet blue.
And as the flames grew strong, the cosmos took notice,
And away did his mark rest
Further, further as he grew.
Further through the stars
Until, like a droplet of water
He joined a puddle of light
Appearing as all the others
Unique like the grass,
Sad among his plight.

You are not beautiful, it seems
the world has lied to you.

"And you think the mirror will present beauty to you?"

I know very well it shall not,

for the world has shown me its true cruelty long ago,
I am no longer angry for what I've seen,

it will only haunt me so long as I breath.

"And you breath no longer?"

It is not possible to breath without a face you have removed in
distaste.

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.
For I am your sun, am I not?
And should my light not be buried with me?
Should ground not extinguish it’s blistering cheer, yes
For This is life and I must not cry,
For my light is not yours, you must find your own.

And my mind is a corpse,
long since buried,
long since rotted.
Within are maggots feasting on my joy,
As the last of my fears fall to dust.

And my mind is a burden,
on which I must walk day in and day out.

Upon five years passing,
You have grown five years.
And the sun will set,
Just as it rises.
Until it does not.

Had you a sense of the word before its use?
Pre- insult powered of hatred,
Had you nothing but a mere willow of its language
Its vowels weeping along your tongue,
Lashing out, breaking skin;
Had you fear of the unknown, yet ventured nonetheless.
A little lost threat,
Of this I will bet
Calls empty as the barren scape,
In this I doubt
Word of mouth will escape.

And so I left,
Not because I was weak
But because,
I Was human

Foot of stone bore deep into the swell,
cracking upon and destroying.
For soon they who the stone holds
shall fall and be no more.
Stand long, stand tall.

Stand long, do not fall,
For when you do and it is done,
Swells will perforate the stone raw.
And to those born between the stars
Do not long, do not call.

Better to be drunk and inspired, then to be nothing at all

The fool seeking love,
is naive to his own soul,
the tremors which rattle his heart
have yet to break it,
but no doubt,
with good time,
they will.

The sky’s pupil
Shone bright,
As did mans
Before death.

The parable crying strange
Actions,
Has once more
Grown truth, drunk and in love

If I collapse, into dirt
And deep earth, would
Your sun still rise
Or vanish, still and forgotten.

I’ve lived
I have lived!
But death, she still
Calls.

Wallow, pitiful man of the spring and summer
know that the grass still breaths when winter blows
Wallow in your high-way blazed ignorance.
to seek the south when the north disagrees
to seek the south when the north disregards.
To see not the day to come, one must know the day that's past.
And I, pitiful man, crave capital that eludes knows only
this.
Only the blisters born of december.
And so in my stupidity I accept it,
A s th ough it is all that i s.
As though it is all that is.

As the sky flew
overhead.
And the stars fell.
I felt ugly,
compared to its
Beauty.

Blue, my love, why must you disgrace me
The green kisses given feel quite hasty
And rest the worry in your mind
The sun shall drool until gone
As the moon breeds a new lovers dawn.

I am trees.
Transport of air.
Bare of chest, young,
Born again,
Torn again.

And so it breaks as I break
But to say that is that
No lies it would be
Death has come and I have watched
As the albatross stays at peaks Unknown
I forget of it and truth that must be for death has yet to claim me.

And it has begun
The dram and the draas buried
It and all my steps.
For only when my past is suffocated,
Can my future breathe

I sit, and where’s the sun?
below the grass.
And I rest my head on my jacket,
And below, a stone.
Where is the music the world used to play?
Ears untouched.
Where is the music?
Where has the world,
Theory, sinews, and all
gone.

Sunlight greased the roads,
Sending shivers across.
Falling behind,
Yet never being caught,
I felt chasing a dream.
Along my vision grew moss,
Along my greed grew rot.

But no matter how much I change,
No matter the words spoken,
I remain a dull root
Paid in loves token.

Sad, I'm sad
But glad
To be bad
To be tones of anger
Thrown in your face

And perhaps I am the
Sky,
Staying constant
Among the
Setting
Sun,
And the crying
Moon.

Snows melt
Drew my love quiet.
Falling upon  
The later ear.

Among this hardship bloomed the strong heart of a man.
I Cried as he did, and bore the strikes of depressions whip.
Cracking among the words I’ve spoken alone,
To the only ears I dare trust.
Among this bellowing wind of change crying loud,
I have lost my mark along the horizon,
For the leaves have been swept before my eyes, leaving me blind.
And though the wind shall again be tamed,
And the leaves shall fall in sweet silence,
I cannot begin to imagine
When this will come.

The days roll by like clouds
Though i cannot touch them, i see them
whisper away.
And with them i fade, steady
Then all at once as the wind paints my mind
grey,
Red and blue, colours of beauty once but gone now.

You die only once,
But live over and over again.
.
Enjoy it

Your supple curves
Carve tears upon my cheek
For now they are nothing,
Just a memory.
And I laugh in the glowing sun
Knowing death has yet to come
And you are not the one.

No man transcends the thrown
From which his fate is
Chosen.
So die in blind
Ambition,
And live,
With naive joys.