My memories become
Motionless in midnight
Adept to freeze frames
Still seconds of past scenes
Linger on auditory loops
Repeat, remix, replay
Motionless my memories
Become in midnight
And at some point
The Spielberg center of my soul
Screams cut

I paddle as he talks
Of life, and the veil just behind it
The water plops as he plods,
On about the things humans never deserved
Saying we have no true structure, style, or word
All is annihilated by the Absurd
Yet with his nugget of knowledge in mine
I paddle on

A trembling leaf, lifted
By a passing truck
Where a Mother and daughter
Sing in vaulted out of tune tongues
Their hands salted in sweat
From a day of numbing unnamed work
A strand from each of their hair
Floats out of the window
One flying into the forest
To rest upon a fallen tree
That had seen enlightenment
In the darkest most obscure storm
The other strand floating
For many miles
Into a crowded city,
Sampling each sound
Gesture,
Pace,
Before landing atop a door handle
Savoring the touch
Of so many souls

With windstorms littered with snow
Failing visions know not where to go
While the inches accumulate and grow
Man’s spirits follow the temperatures so low
However one flower lingers on
With pristine petals that were never torn
Swaying in bliss, so out of season
Defying logic, repelling reason
Inciting all who see to the hall of mystery
These pupils receiving lectures on life’s inconsistency
But the wise walk out of class, truly see
Sometimes it’s best to let things be
To greet such sights with eyes in awe
And a wordless mouth that’s left ajar

Insects layered lilac pedals upon her skin
As if she was a nexus of nectar
As if her body were the chalice of youth
And all that dripped from her, made her a fountain
That flooded the halls of fatherly time
Leaving her ignorant of seconds, minutes, hours
So why do the insects dress her like the flowers?
Because to the ideal of a perfect plant, she is treason
For she never decays in any season

Looking at a sharp knife in my hand,
& me going out in midnight,
She thought I was fed up & was standing near my end,
At last frightened she asked me,
       "Do you want to die?",
I told her,
       " No, just seeking for an another
          reason to survive..."

Internal winds that wail with might
A sudden outpour of downpour
Distress accelerating
Into regions physical and mental
Untangling its hair of horrors
So that miniature hells hail
And free will and free thought,
Take the brunt of the damage
Now paralysis is peppered over all
But with one sneeze vigor is awakened
So see all is interlinked
For natural disaster
And natural remedy
Are naturally destined to occur