In this silence
blindness permeates
Leaves dance unnoticed, whirling
dodging death cars swirl
a child slips soundlessly
to the echo of nowhere
hands lose each other
seagulls do not fly needlessly
washing hangs still on a line
an old couple
small & slight
& bent double
feel their old way to one another
as if searching for gold

girl of country forests
and dusty magical roads
and the calm on hurricane streets
a tint of pink
sitting on maroon carpets
turning pages of a novel dream

her pale hand on an age old paper
bleak ink and words,
pouring an ocean
with her dark brown eyes
penning thoughts
sending letters into the future

writes notes on sticky pads
in a library of broken hearts
where the rule is to stay quiet
to only scream inside
and just like the books she borrowed,
never let herself fall apart

lazy afternoon adventures
seeking rainbows and smiles
barefoot, feeling cold
on play dates with her dog
which apparently talks to her
when the boys in her school won't

now there could have been someone
who made her dream of a heaven somewhere
but he only took her to a really hot place
something 'hell' said a sign before the door
he let go of her hand, pushed her in
returned back and left her there

this was what she had to become
just like this lonely burning place,
she started within her a fire
a fire no one could douse
she burnt her dreams but never
the forest that grew behind her house

for in the forest, she had to burn
pages, words, letters to the boy
she wrote with bleeding ink
until she had burnt
all the dark memories of yesterday
and found her fiery smile in those flames

she couldn't sleep at night
while everyone dreams, her thoughts loom
spells on the poignant calm in the air
something magical, exciting about this darkness
and when she plays with her pretty dark hair
yet still it remains a lonely, desolate room

but even the night passes
a girl, now in love with sunrises
because even those are just the embers
from a burning sun, a million miles away
oh boy, she still loves a beautiful fire
and waits for a boy to burn in her desire

a girl who used to be the calm
has now become a storm
but she keeps reminding to herself
there are souls who still love art and light
so that's why even broken pieces, ashes and fires
can make a beautiful home

little mosquito net
stocking
catching morning dew
drops

idyllic street corner
still cool
calling midnight's
breeze

morning starts at five
O'clock
spill drunken time's
broth.

Corner coffee shop.
The world shoulders by.
The challenges of the day are on their minds.
Collectively, they struggle.
All are trying to find a place in this world.

Some seem consumed with God.
Others do not.
It is hard to tell the difference.
And that’s fine for these people by the lake.
Collectively, they struggle.
All are trying to find a place in this world.

When keeping Chicago,
You’re forced out of a comfort zone.
People, places and things; all new.
They are a lesson to be learned.
Collectively, they struggle.
All are trying to find a place in this world.

Here they fall,
    As words they lay;
Like rain on leaves,
    Then drift away—

New ones come
     Lonesome and weak;
Shrugged off by the old,
     Obese and bleak—

Stillness, then shock
     Illuminates my mind;
A scape of rusted reveries,
     Desolate and unkind—

Hallucinations by and by,
      And I chase their light;
Dreams and adorations,
     Faint whispers in the night—