Drunk mit dem joint,
forcing myself to write
Listening to songs I know
work me up
Feeling their message deep
I wouldn't feel
this way if it were another time

Sunlight
reflects
on
the river
vibrating
back
and forth
my eyes
follow
as
best
they can

The sun will shine
tomorrow anew
Through green grass
so tall, as mountains
The rays of light appear like
rain water
dropped fresh from the vine
Diamonds forming reflections
of an entire world
in one small glisten

I see the leaves     waving
at me  

I feel the sun's warmth    giving me a   kiss

I take a drink
                           from the hydrating wind

Planted Seeds
now Tumbleweeds
Tangled in the Brush
if it is True Love
is there really any Rush?

Rust Colors things Differently
Now days

Drunk mit dem joint,
forcing myself to write
Listening to songs I know
work me up
Feeling their message deep
I wouldn't feel
this way if it weren't another time

I return to a bed not slept in
As I have five nights or more
The streets
I wander
After dark
Gliding through the lights of street lamps
Ever so near and far
The ghost of slumber taunt me
out to the dangerous, evening world
But safer I am here, in the darkness
than locked up tight
with nothing more to fear
than my own reflection and mind

A tattered, torn,
                  old journal
Holds echos
                   of a love once past
Words like imprints
                   on the brain
Press through
                    from one page to another
Two hearts once held each other

I remember these early times
The first
Downtown in the cold
Lights out.
Adults living like heathens
Teens on the streets
My inspiration
The freedom which comes
from taps on bricks
cold air to put
you right back in your body
Frightening.
It was freedom nonetheless

The ominous call
as the crow caw
A humming to my left
fills my eardrum with a crisp autumn night

As I stare
(at a great distance)
the vast ends on each side
of the mountain's peak,
appear to me like water
         so familiar
I have a deep sense
To swim there
I might be complete
Home.     Returned
to somewhere I've belonged,
somewhere I've never been
Not in this form.
Before I came to this now

How does the big love go?
Explosions in the sky...
A walk
A glance
The final squeeze from
one hand to another
Old familiar
Gone then
Back when?
Or the gentle steady
weight of a hand
on another's back.
Touched forever
...Eternity in the sky

We have cried rivers
We have cried seas
We have carved cliffs
Mountain ranges
And the shore
When our tears were dried up
We exhaled the deserts
Glass
Made beads of sand
All the grains
Of the universe
We have consumed
And rebirthed

Why oh WHY
would you choose
the death you did.
Leaving behind everything
you've created
In the midst of its growth.
Before its full bloom,
your loss cut the buds away.

I want to hold your darkest pains
in a warm blanket
wrapped in my arms
rested against my chest
I will kiss every sorrow
Every shame
Off the tip of your nose
the crown of your forehead
The mid of your naval.
I'll water your seeds
with infinite acceptance
My most sweet, how can I love your brightest, without knowing your darkest?

Creativity does not come with the pen.
I have 1...2...3....4..5!
I have 5 pens.
Yet creativity, I have none.

The grass seemed almost to vibrate
While the yellows came out to the sky
Clouds back drop-
Fully sprung trees
On their way to the summer time..
Yes, these clouds do pass

I went walking in the rain
I traversed mud puddled paths
through wood so lush and green
the water's weight upon the leaves
A bath so refreshing
To cleanse my skin, nourish my thirst
from a fountain so crystal and so clear
Vibrant grass all around me

The abundant flow of grief
crashes down
like a tidal wave
over one
individual
lonesome
body at a time
With its strength
it pulls, pushes
spits out, thrashes, spins
the body of the bereaved
For moments tossing
the body so high
it sees all the stars
in a way stars, Earth,
water, sky have never been seen
A small gift from grief
A token of light
to ease our suffering

Seated on a purple mat
I open the wood, engraved
box which holds
small pieces of my father
I remove the top
Exposing him to fresh air, sunlight
Small sprinkles of ash with
larger, more defined pieces of hard bone
resting on top
Running my finger along the rim
it becomes covered in his dust
I begin to nourish my orchid with his ashes
Wondering
is he nourished in return

Do you feel your body seperating again?
Do you know?
Was your spirit ****** into the flower ***?
Or the creases of my porch mat?

I am angry at men for so many reasons.
Women being assaulted every three minutes or so
Forcing us to bear all the weight of support
While not being granted any responsibility
At my dad for dying and leaving
At my step dad for having an affair
At my brother for hitting me so **** much while growing up
At my other brother for always staying away when he was unsure if we loved him.
At every man who hurt, threatened, hit my sister
For shredding our worth and self esteem
to cover up the immense insecurities men feel
due to societal expectations and pressures
put forth by generations of men who came before them
A toxic patriarchy they themselves will continue
For silencing me in every ******* conversation.
MOTHER Earth, NOT father.
****. YOU.

We got an orange president
and no way to report the news
They divided us and they conquered
I don't give a **** about you
You don't give a **** about me
Or us, or them, or justice, or humanity
We just gotta get the thumbs up,
the validation
and the evil green.

I've drank all my tea,
not quite finished my ****,
As I bathe in the sun all day long.
I keep my mind off of time,
and dream times on my side,
hoping to hear a sweet song.
Somday it will come, and the song
will be sung.
All my wine drunken up like the tea.

Everyday is like magic here,
lost in wonderland...
Fields of gold..
castles made of sand

An infinite sky exits within my teacup.
Rose, mint world..
in a porcelin bowl.
Blue backdrops the newly budding tree,
its green sprouts compliment the sun with
their shine.
I do not wish to drink this world away.

My tongue is dry.
My lips wrinkled from the thirst.
I kiss the bowl one time.
And swallow this world.

I've had these dreams each night
I can't seem to remember names. Just bodies.
Faces Evade me
Action
Movement
Conversation
Volume
Touch
All my senses engaged to the inertia, the energy, the power-
Each night I come back to this palace.
The Watering Hole
of a society who's waking life has been forced into sleep
People destined to find one another
Hear one another
See one another
Feel one another
We are all but dreams to eachother.
Wishing to wake up to a reailty that for the first time
is sweeter than dreams.

I fantasize...
of walking
on this grey day
a girlfriend in tow
to the Cadillac cafe.
Maybe...
8 blocks
Up Broadway.
Peering through window
glass-
at passers by.
Orange juice to lick
my lips.
Listen-
melodic voices
The Humms of a Saturdy morning