A handful of leaves
Smells just like Autumn.
The bits make me sneeze.
Cheew! Gaia's bottom!

I am nowhere near
My desired career;
I feel like I have
My thumb up my rear!

Dear Sanity,
In the night, I wake to find myself without your company, but the warmth of the chain about my neck keeps you at the forefront of my mind. The heavy links rake across my flesh searing your disapproval; pulling me to your ankles so that I might kiss them for mercy. Branded at the chest by this heart of yours, though, I am the very antithesis of your will. I was seduced by the comfort of your homogeneous masses and tempted by the fruits of my curiosity. Yet, it is through fire—the deep passions of my essence—that I will be reborn. And you, who I loved through the eyes of others, will HOWL at my betrayal! Then stand upon your mountain peak and bludgeon me with reason so that I might know what your light looks like.  

To what end? So that I might cling to this chain, this keepsake, which I did not need until you bestowed your judgment. Yes, judgment, though you would have me believe it is your friendship, your safety, your sympathy. Like the swelter of a thousand suns you oppress me saying, “Keep quiet your ***** yearning!” So who would know better, the hour of my discontent, than you who watches me, unblinking, during the day? It is here, at the tween of night, that I shed the scales from my eyes and throw off your burden of want—the goals for which you leave me always pining, but never appeased. Is this shirking to seek the dark? So be it. I will cloak myself in blood—for all that I am wrong—and dance in the pale light of the unassuming.
—Pandora

--------------------

And the faces of the homogeneous masses drew forthwith to witness dawn.

In a drawer,
There was found,
A locket with
A minor crown—

Of leaf: laurel,
And shaded night.

When opened up
All succumbed to fright.
For found inside
Was a broken light;

Pandora’s hope
Had lost the fight

Rumpel-Stilts-Kun*
Him and his thumb
Up in his ***!
***, ***, ***, ***!

--------------------

When red ran from the sand.

From the depths, rose a creature quite old.
Solemn and slow, not a care to be bold
It anchored itself, and gave no expression
The strength of its shell, shook in depressions
Tall extensions: its lifeblood, its protection.
Found scattered, on its shell, in cert’n sections.

The pride of Madagascar—the creature by name—
Are Rosewood and Ebony now mangled and maimed.

--------------------

When red ran from his hand.

Trees are felled, and the humans displace:
Lemurs are losing, they can’t find their space.
Hear the creature wail, its shell echoes with grief—
The sounds of its guests, find little relief.
For its pride is valued, and cut for a price
Hard decisions made—it is life’s device.

Wooden splinters bite back trading flesh to save flesh.
Living masses are caught in our culture’s great mesh.

---------------------

When red in hand and land.

Oceans to flood, new depths to behold
Our desires to fill, balk: “Don’t let them fold!”
She tires of our, meandering session;             
Beating-out paths, to varied oppressions.
Laugh at the onslaught, of one great convection!
As humans propel, in that direction…

In all this, Gaia shrugs, naked-apes are to blame.
Fruiting, of hand and land, need-be one and the same!

---------------------

Fiery
Furies,
Lapping
At the base
Of the door.

Whisper
Cloyingly sweet,
"Let me in..."

OH!!
If only
To rapture.

Have you tasted
A campfire?

Have you seen
Polaroids fade?

Have you felt
The sand sparks?

     We howled at the moon.
          Our youth in full bloom.

               Our collective pasts
               Biting at ankles;
               In strength we held fast
               Denying shackles!

           Demons will come soon.
     We’ll conquer at noon.

Have you heard
Our trumpet?

Have you smelt
Victory?

But, more import
Would you like to?

--------------------

With Both Feet on the Ground

Hello, dear-one.
What say you in this lowly place?

"When twilight traces the terrace,
Touch the torch-sky with the tip of your lip.
               A sweet heat
Will draw your willful mind,
But watch! The torch-sky takes:
               Heart-stems
               Drip
               Drip
               Petals shower
The firelight blaze, like my root vein,
Spills languid and warm across the sky.
               Beauty in elation
               But now breathe out!"

--------------------

Then Into Deep Water

Say, dear-one,
What's all this now?

"The blue of night is sweeping over the torch-sky,
And shadows steal swiftly as silent silhouettes,
               Come coldly dancing
Do not disdain—dreams form feather-light foam,
And fade heavily in a salt-wash, flooding fervently.
                Covered darkly
                Step
                Step
                ­Shiver forward
From terrace to sea my foot falls easily.
Then the eerie eels entwine in the brine.
                Feeling supine
                Let the deep creep
                Until next time."

--------------------

But the Canvas is Brighter Still

Stay awake, dear-one.
Is there not more to tell?

"The search for halcyon has wrought hush-flickers:
Stars  staring brightly stripping night's dark domain.
               Drifting dazedly: humorous
'Theirs is a humming neatly humbling hysterias.'
Whispers Nyx, 'Dwelling hinders what dreaming may fix.'
               Sleeps slips
               Blink
               Blink
               Morning stands
Beacon! Bright butterfly, beckon bravery!
Billow boastfully—this day will be mine!
               Keep in mind,
               It's always divine."

Very good, dear-one,
A fine farewell.

My table is set for Mirth,
But I will tip my hat
At Heart’s companion:
Aching.

Shades on
'Brella
Swingin'

Merry
Is the
Rain that
Falls on
My head

Distilled dreams drift dazedly.
Drumming dares defiantly!
Defeating deafened demons

Trip once.
Trip twice.
Trip thrice.
But I,
Will fight!
Beat off
The blight!
With all
Your Might!

When I was young,
My ma would say:
"Beware the Sidhe
And Faerie Rings."

When I was young?

When I was young,
My ma would say:
"Bring tea and cakes
So they'll be gay."

When was I young?

When I was young,
My ma would say:
"They'll keep you safe,
Or take you 'way."

Am I human?

     "Alabaster!
     I am Leannán.
     This one whispered
     To you, sweet boy."
Alabaster?
     "Your name! Your name!
     Your spirit i claimed.
     A vow you made,
     And now you've paid."
With you I'll stay!
     "Among my folk?
     Keep fast your yoke,
     Or flesh will fade
     And farewells bade."
A song! A song!
     "Your song, my love,
      You've sang it well,
     And flowers laid
     For our parade."

When I was young,
My ma would say:
"Beware the Sidhe
And Faerie Rings."

When I was young,
My ma would say:
"Bring tea and cakes
So they'll be gay."

When i was young,
My ma would say:
"They'll keep you safe,
Or take you 'way."

     *A Faerie Friend
     Forever more.

Crab-walk
Dolphin bend
Sidewalk-chalk
Pictures

Swing-set dreams
Abound
Around
Common memes

Dawdlely-dee, no work for me!
Fell from a roof, and broke a knee!

Skiddlely-dee, skiddlely-da
Nothing to do, I guess I'll draw.

Tweedely-dee, tweedely-dumb
Brother Jimmy, called me a ***!

                         "**-hum, to you!
                         **** on my shoe!"

Fiddlely-dee, can’t blame Jimmy—
He’s always looking out for me.

Kumo, kumo, in the sky.
     The talk of love, I deny.

Kumo, kumo, in the sky.
     Dreams be rooted or they die.

Kumo, kumo, in the sky.
     Elation, comes, after the sigh.

Kumo, dear, your house is vast.
     My floor is filled with endless tasks.

To love, and dream, and prance, and play;
     Yours is the place for this fray.

To work, and plod, and plan, and save;
     Mine is the ox 'till the grave.

Gaia, friend, your house is tough.
     Kumo's loft is nothin' but fluff.

Withering willows wave in the night.
Neko nearly snarled at my sight.
Sneaky sister sitting on the floor.
Fearsome fellow fiends rap on the door.

Midnight moon marvels at this lay.
Leering lovely loonies come to play.
Parting parties parade o'er the hill.
Happy Halloween heap-up your fill.

Diminutive demons dance.
Devouring, drinking: draught.
Devoid destitute dawdlers,
Derive depredated dreamers.

Dude pulls up
In a Honey Bucket truck

I want to say,
"That's a ****** job."

But,
He's heard it all before
I'm sure.

Love the feeling of words spilling from fingertips. Flowery language is meant to prolong this feeling. It is certain. Writing sternly without hesitation makes the words absolute. For instance when I write, thunderstorms are formed by ocean sweat, it is absolute and without a doubt true. Coincidentally, the previous statement is a great example of how writing extra, unnecessary, adjectives and declarations brings joy to the writing experience, but this sentence is the best. Truth. It is certain. Absolute. I am absolutely write.

Here and there, and everywhere,
Around the world they are so fair.
Yet here I'll stay and drink the air,
On specific Pacific's blue water.

May I deign
To drink champagne
With you?

Upon the roof, my *** did sit,
And gaped down at the lava pit.
It spit and split, and threw a fit.
So I dropped a couple antacid.