today, my friend,

teach me in the ways
of joy,

i have had lessons enough
in sorrow,

i do not desire to learn the ways of anger.

so please, teach me joy.

i promise, i will learn,
with thoughtful, thoughtless abandon.

Writing poetry is a Zen moment
Emptying yourself of words
Concentrating on the bank pages
Cleansing the soul as words flow
Spiritually making you aware
To be a worthy listener
Empty coffers can hold more feelings
And poetry shall flow eternally

I will remember the moment it happened
I will remember the pleasure and pain
I will remember the far off direction
As well as the color of rain

I will question all mans excuses
I will question birds in mid-flight
I will question the late along with the early
As well as the color of why

I will talk of the young in the whispers
I will talk of the bond before it lets loose
I will talk of the tear that brings on the storm
As well as the color of cruel

If you'll show me the reason for falter
If you'll show me the point of enough
If you'll show me the given back taken
As well as the color of love

Dark were your
yesteryears, so
some corners of your warm
heart stay tainted still

I want to
rip the
black from your inner-
most

no matter how you

might bleed, curl it up
and throw it into the

abyss where the remains
of other pain-dragons slain

remain.

desire
like pyre,
like
a piece of wood
i am,
ignite
the spark
with love
if not,
with hate
-- but
remember
deep in
is the spirit
of phoenix--
like
the fire,
hidden
in wood--