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Give me the sea and I'll drink it
all of it
Give me the sky and I'll blot it out
cut it out
leave the gaping earth barren of its liquid dressing
and leave the sky naked of its blue face
there is no compare
that is
not to say you are not enough for me
not at all
it is to say you are more than I could have desired
than I could have dreamed
and I do not tire of you
not in my darkest moments
when I'm stretched thin
and there is no longer
a devil-may-care draped about my addled mind
when my patience snaps
when my jaw clamps
my eyes droop
my brain thumps against my skull
not even then
with the last vestiges of civility held in grasp
not even then can I think to lash out at you
not even when you poke
or ****
plod about my sensibilities
maim my sensitivities
not even then
not even when you roll your eyes
give me that long 'hmmmm - really...'
I don't give in to the nagging
nigh satisfying itch to shake with rage
and curse everything that stems from the womb
I am cool as a cucumber
placid as a windless lake
I roll my shoulders
flutter my eyelashes
look you up and down
'My... my... tired aren't you?'
Your shoulders slump
Your efforts to topple me abate
You nod your head
curl up on my lap
isn't it
how comforted we become
when we are offered solace
in exchange for an argument
that neither of us
would win?
The first line came to me and I thought it was so funny.
So I wrote out a poem for it and I hope you like it as much as I did writing it.


In a quiet inn
         in an aching world
there was a boy with mind
body and strength
he had the talent
the unyielding bent
to wield his power
to unrelent
he was sometimes cruel
he was often sweet
he was sometimes gentle
his word carried heat
people loved him so
his poise and candor
his mind was a joy
his work was pure splendor

he was asked
         from time to time
if you could lead us
with your mind sublime
what would you do
where would we go?
         beyond, he'd say,
to the stars and depths
to the moons and mountains
to the planets and systems
how long,
         they'd say,
would you lead us, hence?
         "A thousand years and a thousand more
         a thousand thence and evermore."

his rise was swift
his patience deep
to the destitute, favor
to the broken, weep
his gifts were vast
his counsel practical
his word was bond
and ever magical
he trounced the greedy
imprisoned the malicious
righted all the wrongs
seldom vicious
and before long
his rule was secured
a man of justice and principle
tenets of cure
how long,
         they'd say,
will you lead us, hence?
         "A thousand years and a thousand more
         a thousand thence and evermore!"
we wish it so!

trouble gradually
like bubbles passively
breaking the surface
of his grand design
officials profited
underclass maligned
body for profit
"all are mine"
there was danger in the air
ripples in the well
poison in the minds
infirmity with no care
and sickness took hold
people lost their hope
they questioned Great Lord Marra,
how long,
          they'd say,
will you lead us, hence?
          "A thousand years and a thousand more
          don't ask me again
          or there will be

Chaos in the streets
desenters rounded
deserters uprooted
populace cowered
to the masses
knowledge of rights and potential
traded for respect of rule and power
hour by hour
day by day
toil was spilt
for the grand design
the work of tyranny
is cruel and violent
so was Grand Lord Marra
never certain
never quiet
         he would ask of his subjects,
         how long shall I rule?
they'd say,
         "A thousand years! A thousand years!"
"Never forget it!"
         we shant, our lord

Whispers arose
of a new power rising
someone true
someone firm
someone compassionate
someone alight
he roused the dreams in the soul
he broke the chains in the heart
he walked the roads that were barred
he climbed the mountain forbade
and slowly people turned to him
away from Grand Lord Marra
and that tyrannical father felt it
he felt the waning of his power

Like a dragon in the bowels
of our precious, sacred, love
Marra tightened around that
which the people ever adored
the grand design of toil
the great work of tyranny
the state paid for with blood
that whose edifice was a crypt for the innocent
and that someone who was hero
stepped up to that edifice
with chisel, hammer, pen, and passion,
he carved away that
which held the malice within
he let out all
of the death and destruction
that Grand Lord Marra
had caged in the people
the world played with their shadows
that had been nailed to the edifice and its steeple
and in time they shook free
of Grand Lord Marra's tyranny
for when they learned their freedom once more
the old lord looked old and feeble
not a thousand years
       nor a thousand years more
               nor a thousand years hence
                        and nevermore
just 66 years
it took to break free
of Grand Lord Marra
and his projected

The illness left them all
         breaths of relief swept the nation
and the hero who had come
         was crowned the king of freedom
and he taught all who followed
how to wield the power he knew
how to be free as well
and every dragon of delusion slew
        peace would not reign forever
        new chaos would come
stronger than the last
        strong as the world and its evolving sun
but in this age, there was peace
        joy like never before
                 and our hero's name was remembered
        he did not live a thousand years
but his stories certainly lived longer
in the hearts of the people
in the hearts that were won

Yet a strange thing occurred
       sure as night conquers day
Grand Marra's visions of the future
       did not decay
                 they became the bedrock
of future design
        for light rests on darkness
the grand design
        two sides of the coin
and mine

darkness for foundation
        light for revealing its depth
pathway into the future
        left and right steps...
Thank you for reading!!!
This was fun to write :)
I hope you enjoyed!

Tempests may surround
in the worst of times
a storm to level ships
capsize friend and foe alike
waves that change not just lives
but memory
how tragedy frames our desires
as need, rather than options
as love, rather than responsibility
how the quilt of phoenix feathers
that we oft cover us for slumber
molts as we shed our tears
molts as we age through life
and though times do change
and shadows creep beneath the door frame
still we hear the voice whisper,

"The winds of victory are soon to come."

Memories are trinkets we trade for action
we trade for purpose
we trade for comfort
Efforts spent crafting the perfect memories
catch up to our imaginations over time
Snapshots we thought were sublime
Calamities we shut the door upon
In the kaleidoscope of reality
we can see their colors change
what was treasured becomes tattered with use
what was feared becomes power over abuse
As we build our lives from ashes
no longer need for phoenix feathers
as we shatter walls of illusion
fact from fiction
truth from delusion
we come to hear the voice command,

"The winds of victory are soon to come."

And there is a tumult in the cupboards
under the floorboards
in the rafters
an aching shout of protest
a rapping upon the windows of the soul
a look, in the eyes, of horror
a clinging on to the raft of hope
a desperate jump to the cliff of salvation
a plunging fall into starvation
a rushing flight into the arms of the past
a stepping back from its cold clutches
a fervent climbing of the mast
looking out to the distant horizon
seeing how light is carved from darkness
knowing how you were made this way
and that your limitations
are at the mercy of your love
walking forward, proudly saying,

"The winds of victory are here at last!"

And how the winds whirl about you
as you dance in the curls and twists
walking upon the waves of anguish
waves of guilt, love, and praise,
to know they all complete you
and that the storm is who you are
you build the foundations
that will prepare you
for becoming
a guiding star
that leads your loved ones to the noble place
where your dreams would lead you thus far
a place of healing
a place of trust
a place we all know is here
To my friend, Amanda, on her birthday.
May this and every day be one of joy or little victories amidst the struggle of life.
Keep fighting your battles with your heart to guide your journey and your mind to light the way.

Much love,

Leaves fell
amidst snow's descent
Leaves grew
under sun's ascent
Times changed
and memories faded
Times changed
and I grew jaded

I was always concerned
am I left behind
will I yet grow more
is the deadline due
when will she get here
I am so **** late
I am so fed up
there's so much on my plate

I blew a fuse
my bell was rung
my clock ran out
there loads the gun
but before I go
I ask of time
what is your name
what have I done?

A gentle touch
an eve of peace
a staircase looms
a wreath of fleece
adorns me now
I make a vow
to see what waits
'pon yonder bow
it held my hand
and took me hence
to arid peak
to distant land
and there I saw them
low and weary
stooping dreary

I said can't they see!
They need but wait
for their sorrows will end
by time it will be sate
and satan's hold
his clutch will loose
they shall be free
like airborne goose
but I saw myself then
like roast on the table
Thanksgiving dinner
feast for the sinner
of course they're broken
of course they don't know
because time waits for no man
man waits for time...

Another journey
to far-flung ages
where machines roam free
and lords are sages
people commune
in a peace distilled
from forgotten wars
from absence of pills
I saw them congregate
like ants in a colony
working in unison
for each other's grace
and there was a feeling
like waking from dreaming
how timeless it all was
where peace was manifest

But just like that
I was pulled from the panacea
from the vision of victory
from the dawn of destiny
a saw pain as prophecy
I saw pleasure as peasantry
I saw passion as poetry
I saw power as illusion
I saw my struggles as choice
I saw my misery as vice
I saw my vices as voices
voting down my ambitions
undermining my plans
I then strove for strength
I then fought for freedom
I then stood for salvation
I found the purpose I'd always run from
and it was then
that I heard the voice of time

It said you are my name
and you shall wait no longer
for you wait for no man
you are man no more
you are an agent of change
and the future is yours!
I'll just leave it there.
Felt some peace from that write.
I hope you all felt it, too.


The snapshot of our reality
was instant
was pure
it existed before our time
before we were ever sure

Magnetic was the bonding
snapping together like opposites
negative and positive meeting
where forces find the neutral
you and I were there
where brotherhood is beautiful

But my negative was a poison
an acid in the well
slowly unwinding
the potency of the spell

I watched the picture fading
like a manuscript lost to time
that which was made by God
corrupted by insanity's rhyme
there was a cyclical note
in the air of the night
when truths became daggers
and lies flickered alight

I was patient
I was penitent
my prayers were true and real
but our friendship was cut down
like prey under blades of steel
I saw my past catch up
like wolves in the dark
devouring what we'd created
disemboweled by matters of the heart

Who can cure these ailments
that live beyond the soul
while it watches the tumult below
hearts fighting in lieu of the goal
I was there on the battlefield
I watched the future fade to black
all I wanted was the love
that could bring my will to fight back

Brother can be lost in the world
they can spill the blood they share
they can get lost in the moment
and spite the fates that brought them there
it's hard to create family
but so easy to break it
because that which truly matters
is fragile, vulnerable, naked

We protect our love by how we lead our lives
with integrity, compassion, and virtue
so that in the moments life gets hard
we fall back not on the things that hurt us
but on the bonds that gave us life
that gave us the will to carry on
By the stream, they sang
as the waters of life flowed
and what grew by the waters?

I ask myself this question daily.
Rancid gutters, stench of rotting responsibility
passing problems forward
generation by generation
until the backs of our grandchildren
snap under the weight.

Just look at us now
searching for truth for healing for salvation
like every generation before
and I must ask myself
where are the waters of life
and what songs would I sing were I to drink them?

I believe it in my heart
that our song would be every moment
a chorus of peace
a chorus of love
looking into each other's eyes
no hint of displeasure or bitterness
haunting memories looming no more
forgiveness a currency of champions, we
and I cannot shake the mirth of it
almost oppressive - the laughter
I drown in it
aching at the sides
at first wondering, "What's in this water?!"
Then making it my daily drink - liquor forgotten
My daily bread the love of those around
and my gift to them the same.

Such a dream.
Lying back, sorrow at the sheer distance of that vision,
I stare into the ceiling
watching the cobwebs flutter
the waning daylight calls me to rest my eyes
bury my day's burdens
give control over to the weightless, mindless veil of sleep...
yet I lay awake all night
fearing sleep
because the beauty of that dream still clung to my soul
and should I have slept
the dream would die
and my grandchildren would have nothing
but this crumbling world we're building
while they'd wonder if I ever dreamt.

They'd wonder if I were ever free.

I did dream. I did hope to be free.
I will make this dream a reality.
I will find the waters of life.
I will share it with you.
Even if it were just a drop,
it would be ours.
You, me, and everyone,
for a drop of life is worth worlds of love.
Found this in my drafts written since February last year (2021).
I'm surprised it was there, I completely forgot I wrote this! LOL
Honestly, what in the world, haha.


Don't say it, I warned, I professed
Don't say
the tears of a woman
weigh more
than the tears of a man
I wouldn't dare, she said
for even though my tears could crush scales
their load could plant ten oxen in the dirt
capsize ships
they also carry the joy
that you are by my side
and your tears
bellow with the fear
that you are alone

I nodded
she understood

She rested her head on my shoulder
a weight that pleased me
a gesture that eased my heart
tell me, she said
about the scars in the river

I didn't know what she meant
a river with scars
what bled from it
water does not bleed
I told her this
she said
if water does not bleed
men do not cry
I said, men do cry
she said, then water does bleed
I ask, what does water bleed
everything breaks, she said
everything is made of finer things
fine things in men break, I said
who breaks them, she asked
women do, I said
did I break you, she asked
not yet, I sighed, not yet
and she then wished in her heart
that that would never yet be so

I wondered from then on
even after she broke me
even after I forgot her face
what are the scars in the river
what does water bleed

on a day when the sun baked the earth
when thirst drove one to madness for water
when children dove in the lake
dogs panted cross-armed beside steaming asphalt
just to feel the windrush of the cars
people, blasting air-conditioning, counted their blessings
people, sweat sogging their ragged clothes, counted their woes
and I watched the sea give of itself to the sky
water evaporated heavenward
and I said to myself,
ahh - water does bleed

In the days that followed
the bleeding of the rivers, lakes, ocean, and people,
I watched the heavens weep terribly
like a mother in despair over her dead child
and I saw people drink of the sky
dance in the weeping
laugh - laugh to crying if they must
laugh for exultation of life and love
dance and roll and frolic in the richness of the land
and I asked myself
having seen the bleeding of the river
Is this the bleeding of the sky

Winter came slow
like death, we expected it
yet dreaded its presence when it arrived
how the snow choked the life out of the land
and we clamored in fear of the world without
We clung to one another
clung in ways I never knew in summer
intimate like a scarf around the neck
she and I snuggled in the sheets
no fear of sweat
sweat was desired
water was desired in every way
to break the spell of the arid air
she and I danced the way
only two bodies could
when connected like child to mother
she was connected to me
I was the nourisher
I was the farmer in the field
in her fields
in the fields of the future
generations could be sown and grown
and yet
they could cease to exist should I
deign to disappear from her
the cruelty of destroying the future was present
a cruelty that is
a man's purpose
to allow, or to abate

We held one another
by the window
watching winter fade
snow crept from the trees
the ground dissolved from winter white to early-spring brown
I watched the snow bleed
I then saw it all
the cycle of life
water and its many phases
and I turned to her
I said, "I love you."
She understood
as she held me tighter
shedding the weight of the past
she pressed her lips on my ear
said, "Thank you, my love."
And from then, I never scarred again.
My rivers never bled
and neither hers
I shall leave this one with a simple note:
Find the loves that inspire you.

As always, enjoy!

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