I'll climb
the tallest mountains with no stress,
I just need~
a helmet, rope, and other climbing gear,
warm layers, good boots, maybe some fear,
a bit of my heart in my mouth,
to chase the butterflies from my belly—
no need to fight against my shadow~
it'll be too light upon the rock,
wrapping
                     my image around
the creeps
   like a siamese twin
afraid to be

u n j o i n e d...

  then, with gentleness,
without my blood running cold,
so the teeth of cold don’t bite too deep,
                  up my legs will climb~
            a step at a time,
  slow and steady~toward the top,
trusting my body to do the rest~
just pausing...
                                              to refuel my throat and tum,
sip from the hydration bladder,
and from my backpack, grub a hiking snack...

When at the peak~/\
show me the bullet,
let me bite~

now too far for my feet to be cold,

       release the wings~~~
                                        let me f l y
             like an eagle~~~
                                    let me s o a r
far into the sky where no star gleams
  and no moon glows nor sun shines
where angels peep~and I can see them
          and the roars of lions are like    
                                     w h i s p e r s
         and thunderbolt shouts are dim,
where s i l e n c e is loud, yet never speaks
where lights are like shadows,
with f l i c k s brighter than the sun,
and fires that burn with no flame—
                                     just pale blue s m o t h e r s ~
   in a womb so sullen and solemn.

Will I get friends among the a l i e n s,
if I fly~~~in a saucership, oxygen-filled,
  dinitrogen oxide~ to force a laugh,
to rise from where l o n e l i n e s s
     has thrown me:
        down in the dump;
            face like a wet weekend;
                just to have the blues;
what if the saucercraft c r a s h - l a n d e d ?
Will I be found—still human—
       like in
"There are Martians Among Us?"    

But wait...

are the lights on, and no one at home?
am I far away with the fairies?

If true,
then there is
a method
to this  

m a d n e s s.

Do you think I'll cry if I lose your love?
My heart is a rock; my friend is a dove.

So I stay strong no matter the tension,
I'm unmoved by whatever you mention.

Like a dove, I'll always embrace your peace,
I'll be true to you like a fine timepiece.

When you're finally back to your senses,
Your grief won't be part of my expenses.

Giving peace of mind like a cool sea breeze,
I won’t chase a love that fades with such ease.

On the base of a flower vase,
that's where you left her last blood trace:
A reminder of your fresh ****;
your Valentine's day gruesome chill.

Caked blood now covers the deep wound,
her flesh still looks fresh on the ground.
But her spirit roams far away,
graveyards too small for her to stay.

Her lips still wear your last cold kiss.
Her warm hugs, you'll forever miss.
Her soft hands, you can't again grab;
a gone soul, you can't again stab.

From cemeteries, vengeance screams;
her vengeful spirit haunts your dreams.
Her ghost won't rest till your soul flees
and the breezes from your nose freeze.

Let me now sing the song of my old age,
All I recount now belongs to the past.
Since all the changes noticed are so vast,
Let this song be sung by a real sage.

This face, now so old, ugly, and wrinkled,
Once shone with a bright glow, so appealing.
Though no longer smooth, fine or unpeeling,
This same old skin was once never crinkled.

These eyes, now drooping, dimmed by poor vision,
Once sparkled with allure and shone brightly.
These hands were once fresh, smooth, and felt sprightly,
Though now they tremble, void of precision.

This mouth, now sunken and full of gnashers,
Once gleamed with the shine of pearly white teeth.
A life once vibrant, fresh as blooming wreath,
Now murmurs soft through folds of old tatters.

These feet, worn and cracked, trudging so slowly,
Once romped in the bloom of youthful delight.
Though now calloused and bent, aching each night,
They had dreams, carried them with strength boldly.