She marched on herself
All battle lines and banners
Weapons reflecting one another
Horns howled
So that two sides packed into combat
Crushing, piercing blood splattered blows
Heaps of fallen bodies
And the mounting casualties
Castrated the confidence
Of the two sides of the girl
Who marched on herself

I stepped pass my reason
As it writhed on the ground
And from it oozed
All the past voices
Howling with so many how’s
How to Love, how to Live
How to Dress, how to Deceive
How to tailor the parts of me for Society
But as it sounded I wondered
Why such reason
Ever was ever part of me
For I heard not a single note of mine
Being played from it

My memories become
Motionless in midnight
Adept to freeze frames
Still seconds of past scenes
Linger on auditory loops
Repeat, remix, replay
Motionless my memories
Become in midnight
And at some point
The Spielberg center of my soul
Screams cut

Running within youth’s river
The water cold around my ankles
Laughter loitering in the air
My friends and I
Were fond of infinity
Our swimsuits were scented in it
Endless Days
Endless Nights
Endless Homework
Yet who could see
That youth’s river led to the senile sea

Sometimes I think we’re all mere magnets
Pulling towards this, pulling away from another
Getting closer to your grandmother while fighting with your mother
Moving out to find your identity but shielded online by anonymity
I swear we’re all mere magnets
Tired of running towards our goals but happily running from boredom
Telling others we know so much but then adept to play dumb
Wanting a bigger slice of success yet unwilling to gift the beggar a crumb
Aren’t we all mere magnets?
All relationships looking for some big reward
And pulling away if our emotions become too sore
Yet, what if some weren’t really magnets but pretended to be
Could those outliers find one another and stick for eternity
So my dear, are you a magnet?

She lays along her porch
In clothes of comfort
Enclosed in comforts
A modest house
A ancestral skill
A family purring in peace
Yet I’d only want a piece
Of her
None of all that other
Such a western reality
Is rooted in my mentality
To see her behind a glass
As children gawk and gasp

A table shaped like an hour glass
Seats filled with sand moving slow and fast
A figure sits, veiled and masked
Motions me to join before I can ask
Picks up a kettle of solid brass
In cups they pour, attentive to the task
Watching, waiting, until they finish at last
I reach for my cup but it spills alarming me
For I have broken this hymn like harmony

Why do you persist?
Do you have any idea?
What I’d do
If passion pricked my chest
I’d move a million mountains
Still the seven seas
Drench the deathly deserts
Fling flames in frosted forests
Slay Hercules in his sleep
In order to cradle
You a little closer
And nip at your neck

I’ve met desire again and turned her away.
Told her thanks but come back another day
Or another year cause it will be a while
I’m working on my structure, story, style
I’ve trying to create grandeur that’ll shine for a mile
I don’t have time for my heart to be on the prowl
I've got work, and dreams that have grown to a pile
But then you smile
And I put down my reason and then my pen
And let you in

Like Cortes or Columbus
Combining like clouds
To storm upon thy heart
Conquering every crevice
Chaining your cheerfulness
So that you wither in wants
Watching with a weathered sigh
As it tirelessly loads treasures
That were known and unknown to you
Upon silent ships that set sail
Destined to return to dazzling far off places
And oh the tales it’ll tell
As you woefully wail

Amongst the broken ships
I see thy standing upon a sinking deck
No chains bound her in place
The glare of sunlight shields her face
Then swans and sparrows come in pairs
Settling upon her feet
Pecking and prodding with cooing sounds
Their music a masterful soothing score
That drowns out the brutish ocean’s roar
So that a new sea of melody floods the world
Then all these notes flow into the girl
Resting within her once rigid heart
Which has now become a sacred Ark

Great entity resembling a Trance
Trudges along the Earth
Stumbling in and out of different languages
And some call it truth
And others call it lore
And many call it illusion
Yet all must call it something
For it responds to:
The strike of a bell for recess
The strike of a wooden gavel
The strike of a revolutionary idea
The strike of a single strike of lightening
And all of these strikes bowl over
The petty pens which ink our thoughts

Stories browsed by the bedside of budding of children
Told of all the adventure that awaited us
So I ran amok with my compatriots
Every one of us wreathed in youth
Burning with the boundless fuel
Of curiosity
From the streets spilled opportunities
Of Fame, Of Wealth, Of Love
Then eventually the Sun rays Bent
Before bleeding upon the stone
So that we traversed on bricks of yellow
Until sore legs led us
To an enchanted emerald mirror
And as we stared we began to wheeze
Seeing a frail old wizard or witch
Wondering “why” with a whimper
As curtains cradling clocks, crash upon us

Solid Sapphire mined on foreign soil
Is broken and scattered upon your dress
As you accompany your friends to a ball
Flaunting emeralds in your ears
The music spins and you shimmer
Growing brighter at times then dimmer
All the while you search for another person
So that you can form a pair
Like two perfect rhymes
Dancing within a madness,
Of uneven melody

I saw my country crowded and crumbling
The rich ruled with rules and rumblings
Of freedom of work
Or freedom to hurt,
Environments of nature and social order
All tipping toward disorder
But among the chaos I spot some coffee and order,
It black and then scream Order!
Like a judge amongst the courtliest courts
For everything is odd and out of sorts
In my crumbling and crowded country

In far flung fields
How your heightened heart
Beat’s as if it’ll never break
As if it barely bleed’s
And your laughter lifts
All souls that surround it
And immortal moments
Fly down to flirt
Within the spaces where
Your smile lingers
And your yawning
Calls out to the brittle breeze
Who sweeps forth
Cuddling and cradling
You in just the right jet stream
So that sleep may nestle
Upon your neck
Delivering desirous dreams

I saw my country growing into its prime
For I’m educated and elegant and all is fine
As I recline in cushy shoes that others shine
The view from the top is so sublime
And the fashion in season is devilishly divine
But some fools shout from time to time
Wanting us to spy the crust and grime
They are losers, for winners never whine
And I change the channel and sip on wine
For it helps me to unwind
And refocus my precious mind
On all the money I can mine
From my country growing into its prime

I miscalculate my fortunes and searching in pain
Find my lovely and ask her for another change
She says “no”, to my requested exchange
Baffled, I make myself clearer but she still refrains
I pull out crisp bills and push them in range
She shakes her head but doesn’t explain
Yet we’ve done this before, it’s simple and plain
Traded currencies without concern or complain
Her thoughts are riding some otherworldly train
Finally her lips depart and she exclaims
That I must leave her station without a backward glance
So I walk from her in a dazed, dull, trance
Then a friend lets it slip by happenchance
That I confused the words change for chance

Churning with the shells of critters
Foam infused with flour hues
Reaching and receding
Timeless yet awash in currents
It learns in waves
The perfect pupil
Relying on all it can see

What if the Sphinx ran out of riddles?
Or more pointedly put
Grew resigned of the many that stood before it
Those stuttering in fear
Or those too clever to stick around and converse
What if the Sphinx
Finally shifted its gilded gaze
Unto itself, realizing
Its vast intellect was stifled and stuffed
Into the gaudy an unappealing role
Of an obstacle
Stagnant
How its glittering streams of bright consciousness
Would twist downward into the deepest drain
And the Sphinx thus thoroughly empty
May content itself
To pick up a phone
And shuffle in silence
Searching in-between buffers
Alone
Like the rest of us

She’s soft and scented in *****
Aromas of fine wine, upon her skin cruise
She holds her glass steady, then takes a sip
Eyes cast out to sea, under the waves her thoughts slip
As if everything around her, was but a blip
Some passerby wants to ask what’s she thinking
But seeing her so relaxed, instead asked what’s she drinking

Insects layered lilac pedals upon her skin
As if she was a nexus of nectar
As if her body were the chalice of youth
And all that dripped from her, made her a fountain
That flooded the halls of fatherly time
Leaving her ignorant of seconds, minutes, hours
So why do the insects dress her like the flowers?
Because to the ideal of a perfect plant, she is treason
For she never decays in any season

In the cold seconds of the dark night
When a message from another is frozen
Does not solitude answer?
Speeding back to reply
With a smooth and resounding silence
And most would place this
Next to the bins that they empty
But I see it
As unblemished beauty
One midnight rose
Whose pedals blend in
So that only sterling starlight
Can define its edges