Tighten them please
the bolts in my head
they say loosen up
but I know madness
is no blessing
it separates

it separates
don't you want
to be unique

whats unique
about pain

Types of
ways of enduring

sigh

in scorched ground
severed roots remain
untethered tumbleweed
rides the thermal
on a heady rush to heaven
only to drop shattered
on the desolate highway
a once lush landscape
in full splendid flower
abundance freely given
but for one desire
do not let me die
for lack of water

It's a dream childhood
taking the ten fifteen autumn ferry
for school on the other side of the river
little white butterflies
petite pretty ribboned
babbling like river ripples
boarding from the jetty in the sky
traveling below billowing September clouds
living only in now breathing joyous
no worry for a future
ferrying along the river
and now is all that counts
counting by the moments
fairy furlongs
on the ten fifteen autumn ferry.

Don't talk to the old man
on the ladder he's likely
cleaning eavestroughs

end to end full of leaves
kite string & black
beetles

He may mumble
teetering on the rungs
but don’t interrupt work

he has enough to handle.

it's hard to let you go
but i know.. i have to
because
i need you to fly
so i'm going to burn
every picture
of you
into my mind
so i have you
there
for all time
i'm going to dream
of every word
you ever said
and i will forever
want to sleep
with the tears
on my pillow
so i know
you are nearby
i'm going to
love you
for as long
as my heart
will allow
until it tells me
'that's enough
it hurts too much..'
and i finally
let you go

She slept still on the cold bed
Her fragile frame was forever fixed
The sullen smile on her frown face
Crowned her earthly end
An emblem of victory gained in demise

The somberness of the ominous knell
Ushered in the undertaker for his task
To amass his masters latest loot
Fallen along the weary long way
A rose bruised before its bloom

The lamentations of the little lass
The groan of the grey gentleman
The solemn sympathy of a stranger
The clergy’s confession of her circumstances
All a label of a life led in liaison

The strongly sealed sepulcher
Bears the remains of her mortality
The epitaph on it concise as her life
A testament of her times to lingering legs
On rock engraved on hearts chronicled forever

The worms that merry on corpses
Shall soon party for their spoil
That skin so tender shall decay
From this world she carried eternal hope
And though she is dead she shall live.

My heart yearns for an adventure
For a strange and rare venture
Oblivious of the tons of dangers
For in adventures I ain’t a stranger
For I would relieve childhood years
That I spent with my little peers.

An adventure in distant lands
Where the children play with wet sands.
And dolphins jump out of water
When the noon sun makes the ocean hotter.
Where the fisherman yaw his boat
To capture all the salmon afloat.

An adventure by the oasis in the Sahara desert
Where Tuaregs sit by the cactus to eat dessert.
And watch as scorpions prey on lizards
To feast on their gizzards.
I want day sun to warm my smooth skin
And the night cold to shiver my crude chin.

An adventure cuddling cold snow on my hand
Where the icy pillars in their majesty stand.
And make a cave of snow
Strong to stand when wind blow.
Then I will scare the polar bear
That my cave like a paper wants to tear.

An adventure on the corn field
When in summer the flowers yield
When the butterflies pollinates the corns
And the farmer weeds out the thorns
I want to watch the corn spring to life
When the early rain is rife

An adventure across the sky in a plane
And watch as daylight slowly wane.
I want to leave a route on the sky
That in the future I would still ply.
Then immortalize my name in the cloud
That dark clouds in their anger cannot shroud.

An adventure deep in the amazon woods
When the purple squirrel burrow for food.
Where the monkey sway their tails
And red roses litter narrow trails.
I want to watch the ants builds their mounds
As the ripe mangoes fall on the ground.

An adventure that will lead to places
Leaving on all its paths my traces.
Permanents prints that will last
Even when my life like history is past.
And my adventure would be told as a tale
That like time will not stale.