We roam
The alleys in the night
And find the darkest place
A name without a face
An island

We lose
Because god is on our side
And stars are only remnants of the sun
That we wish on
An ocean........
              Is the

I am an island
But water only drowns
I am an island
Without an ocean

I think my eyes have been closed
Too close
And far too long
I haven't seen the sun rise
I've forgot the morning
And in this midnight
I'm losing count
There is no way
There is not now or there could never be
Nor would there ever be
No how
Nothing
I would ask for peace
Or plead for love
But all I really need
Is just the hope
I can stay warm
Until the morning comes

Only the sickness growing
Do we see it now?
On the surface of the moon
In the depths of the sea
How fall so quickly comes to winters gloom
Its only death
On the tongue
Of the people
Speak it now
                           Forever hold your breath

Its only sickness growing
Do we fear it now?
In our cars on the road
And our planes in the sky
How we'll never really get to where we are going
Its only death
Only life
Only hate
Metastasize

Only sickness growing
Do we feel it now?
In our ever aging bones
As a poison in our blood
How our hearts will always fail our living dream
Its only death
On the tongue
Of the people
Speak it now
                          Forever hold your breath

Its the world I love
That I don't know

Its the time

Its the teeth of the wicked
Its the hopes of the holy

Its my eyes

Glaring

I can not find a way to **** myself slowly
That I am comfortable with

Its years

Years

Its only what it always was
Its only finding out

Its my becoming

The thing I fear the most......

It is hard
to describe
how the rush of
          the drench
of a furious
     storm makes
my downpour
             clench
wet desert wind
that sparks me
                   alive
sending currents
from the whorls of
                my scalp
down through the
rings of my spine
It trips over
                  dermis
like kimono silk
thick as the cream
of lapped-up
              milk
alighting my
senses in
rose quartz tints
igniting cells
to my surface
with earthed-up flint
The strike of rocks
echoes ancient
           sounds
reverberating heat
throughout my scared
                        mound
And I let the rain
pour directly in
to my soul's
humble vessel,
cleansing me,
     rinsed
from relentless
        spirit-wrestle
free of stains
from self-doubt,
         self-hate
to align my vision
with choice-infused fate
and I am the storm
that swirls through
the trees
I am the dream
whipped up thick
in the breeze
ready for surrender
as I pull the reigns
ready for the tender
conflagration
         of the
sacred
      blaze

Sun
glows all day
sustains some life
cannot penetrate ant hill
has not seen sea bed
our star
sun.

Human nature is to be a creeper.
We use the weak, meek and backward sections
as branches of trees.
To keep the growth uniform.
nature intends to equalize
by earthquake, flood or forest fire,
but the devastation is area specific.
Societies come up and resort to democracy.

15th Oct. 2016

Limerick is a city in Ireland
It  has plenty of bricks and sand
Has masons and their bosses too              
Adding  the two and two
the city hopes to be grandest de la grande.

The blood, bones and organs of beauty
are figure, poise, grace and glow,
just as memory, intelligence, reflex and intuition
compose the talent.
Anyone can have skill with inclination and diligence
and God has given us all the talent
to translate skill into action,
action for development or destruction.

4th. Nov. 2016

A rustic lass of early teens
sells raw diamonds on a pavement.
black stones are laid on a mat
small rocks  fetch her livelihood.

‘See, the stones can cut glass sheets,
all are genuine raw diamonds,
buy now or you miss a gem,
going cheap at two dimes each.'

Her face is *****, attire shabby,
hair unkempt, eyes sunny,
around the dullness, monotone
a tulip slowly unfurls petals..

She holds the reins of little brothers
a pair of kids in birthday suits.
Has the mother left her shadow
to teach the tricks of steering life?

I’ve bought a little piece
kept it in my glass show case
a simple, uncut, glittering stone
memoir of a youth to be.

7th. Nov. 2016