I am a monument
To your sins and despair
In the dark of the world
In dead leaves and cold air
I stand a gray statue
Caught in winter's snare

I am the eternal self
Bound to the Earth and dirt
My toes dig like roots
Green leaves form my skirt
Memories of far away times
Deliver winds of old hurt

I am an innocent child
A simple and tender age
Basking in warm sunlight
Awaiting the next stage
Blessed by green gardens
An untamed sage

Deep in my soul
     I felt weak and weary
And knew that my end
     Hung silently near me
But on the wind
     And through the trees
A sound fluttered down
     A nearby breeze
It danced along
     A deviant path
Bending and phasing
     In a joy filled wrath
My hollow bones
     So light and enchanted
By that colorful tone
     Not evil nor slanted
Pushed ever onward
     And looked out below
The source of this song
     I was thirsty to know...

I came upon a white city
     Shining in the distance
If it weren’t for the music
     I would have missed it
Eagles soared above
     From mountaintop trees
They flew with grace
     Together on a breeze
I felt myself hopeful
     And drawn to their course
To that faraway city
     Far off to the north
With haste I dashed
     Down rocky plateaus
For I felt at home
     From my head to my toes
Like a child I raced
     As the sun finally set
Until I was caught
     By a rope-wound net!

It was forever as if
     I floated across those plains
My captors carried me
     With grace so strange
As the music got nearer
     Eagles sang with flutes
Piecing together a melody
     Known by trees and their roots...

I was placed in company
     Of a magnificent king
His crown was white
     And his robe, and his ring
He bid me welcome
     To live among his people
In his white city of courtyards
     Towers and steeples
As I opened my mouth
     And my heart to say yes
He stopped me before that
     With one lone request
I must dwell in this realm
     Until the end of my days
For in hiding, he said,
     We all must remain
Hidden from the darkness
     That dwells beyond the mountains
Hidden among fairies,
     Family, and fountains...

So there I dwelt
     Until the end of my life
In that shinning white city
     With my children and wife
I’ll never forget
     That most fortunate day
That by music and eagle
     I was once led astray...

Late night,
In an Uber,
Faded black lipstick...

Prison in Chicago,
With her foot on my leg.

In the year 3131
They come to devour our suns
Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants
Inconceivable beyond all reason and science.

Humanity and all her colonies,
Divided amongst the galaxies,
Finally united once and for all
For our race dare not fall!

To eliminate the threat of annihilation
We constructed planet-sized stations
That house massive and powerful guns
To protect and defend our vulnerable suns.

As our fears vanished behind us
Those in control sought to rebind us
For systems of authority never change,
Not even with pervasive freedom in range.

With the powerful distracted by their lust,
For control over every speck of dust,
There emerged a demented cult
That believes our race is at fault,
And beings that come from above
Do so out of divine, parental love.

These naive and delusional zealots,
Inspired by avarice long embellished,
By a ruthless society lacking empathy,
Have developed an ever enduring apathy.

Seeking to destroy our only defenses,
They mount violent and ****** offensives,
Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify
As humanity is unable to reunify.

However, there is another cooperative effort,
A last stand, self-organized endeavor,
This vigilante group battles cultist detestables
They call themselves The Solar Sentinels.

Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration,
The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations,
Engineers and military minds come together
To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever.

Now, one existential question remains:
Will humanity break free of its chains,
Awaken, realize that we are all one,
Disregard old orders and save our suns?

Under smoldering red desert skies
Earthquake-like tremors displace sand
And giant gears pulling wide treads give rise
To a towering, onyx colored machine of man.

A scientific prophecy once foretold
That the oceans and trees could be killed
And in its toxic love of black gold
Humanity granted this prophecy fulfilled.

It used to warm our bodies and minds
But now, our sun is something to fear
Our lives and colossal machines combine
And chances of survival remain unclear.

For military rule has exploited
Our natural will to fight and survive
They’ve usurped us and anointed
Themselves rulers of the inside.

What’s left of our once great society
Roams the Earth in onyx colored arcs
Scientists try to return Earth’s sobriety
As we wage war for oligarchs.

Terrorism between 3 arcs ensues
As each believes the one to solve
The problem of an Earth abused
Will become ruler by forceful resolve.

What's the point of this?
If no one sees my poems,
I'm doing nothing.

Like a flame igniting an old engine
A frisk of energy sparked
Turning my rusty, frozen gears
And restoring my memories of you.
In a hidden corridor in time -
A dimension since locked away
We two share an instant -
An unobtainable, infinite moment.
Like a fog creeping in on my soul -
An ironic, melancholy nostalgia;
I dream of sunlight on canopy roads
In a place I once called home.
Trapped in a reality without you
We've since broken our promise,
Extinguishing the embers
We swore to smolder forever.
This life is a sort of purgatory -
A spiritual test and journey;
A short waiting period before
We again walk hidden corridors.

I'm onto all this.

My perspective is in alignment
I hear the trees and feel those
Who watch over us and whisper prose
That many fail to notice.

I live in a parallel netherworld
Filled with strange, glorious music
Where time and everything you see
Just ain't what it seems.

It's really very strange
Watching everyone pass by
In slow motion monotone
As I glide through the sky.

I guess enlightenment is for the unenlightened.

When I watch nature -
And look at the narrow strips
Of what we've allowed to persist of that world

=================================
Squeezed between concrete
Sidewalks, roads, and metal sewer grates.
=================================

I wonder if -
As I look upon bare tree branches
Adjusting to the ever-moving autumn air ~
Nature is some sort of escape for the corrupted human spirit
Another world or plane of existence
Where one may finally be taught to know oneself.

If this is the case,
May one never truly visit this place?
Until finally departing from this world?
Must we be forced to play the role of the perpetual onlooker?
Able to see heaven and dream about it,
But never feel, taste, or bathe in its light?

In contrast,
Could the changing color of leaves,
Death, decay and rebirth before our eyes
Be merely a surface level,
Indifferent reminder
That time continues to march ever onward - - -
Without regard to our concerns,
Pains, and feelings about ourselves?

Is it possible that this strange,
Mysterious beauty that we look upon,
But never truly come to understand
Is only in place to remind us
Of its ever-lasting presence?
And in turn,
The extent to which our own existences
Are so  v e r y  fragile and limited
To short blips in time
On a tiny spec of dust
In  s p a c e  ?

At an unknown time of night at our cottage in northern Michigan…
My younger brother and I heard strange noises coming from the beach again…
We looked up at the ceiling and then the window…
As the voices from outside, in a lively allegro…
Grew softer and louder in repeating crescendos…
We skittered out the door and stared in fascination…
For what we saw must have been our imagination…

The door closed with a creak as our feet hit the grass…
It was at that moment we got a look at the mass…
Of stubby foot, hunchback creatures from which the sounds had amassed…

There was about six of them chanting like a choir…
They danced and paraded around our burnt out fire…
As we looked on, we saw our fire raise…
It got brighter as they lifted their hands in waves…
As light betook the blue beach night…
A crowd of colorfully masked gremlins caught us in their sights!

Their feet slowed to a stop and they quieted down…
They stood still as the fire flickered off their weird wooden frowns…
One reached out his hand in a come-here motion…
They seemed to stand and wait with an encouraging notion…
As the fire crackled and the waves tumbled onto the beach…

All I can remember, is for the rest of that summer…
My younger brother and I served as the drummers…
For that quirky marching band of lake sprites…
With which our burnt out fire we’d reignite…
At an unknown time of night at our cottage in northern Michigan…

I was awoken from a dreamless sleep
     By a boy with short brown hair,
     Who, with an urgent stare,
Told me to head to the showers!

As my eyes creaked open to recognize,
     The orange glow of this unfamiliar room’s lighting,
     In front of me, in handwritten writing,
A page on the wall showed three in the morning.

When I glanced around a room of shared bunks,
     I saw all sorts of people and things,
     Running around with things to bring
To these showers I had yet to see.

In a winding line down a high ceiling’d hall,
     I stood with so many,
     Who like me, hadn’t any
Idea what was going on.

With a whirlwind flurry of commotion
     Steam crawled from the showers and water sprayed,
     As we were told in a big disarray,
To wash off the place from whence we came.

In a neat little stack, I was handed my clothes
     A tunic, with a sash
     And a captivating mask
To “celebrate our exciting return home.”

Down dark rustic stairways, I watched like a child
     The vibrant light and affinity,
     Radiating with enchanting divinity,
From the otherworldly people and creatures below.

Through that noisy, jolly crowd,
     We were led as a group
     And the boy said with a whoop
That we were all to stand up and dance.

His eyes glinting with excitement,
     The brown haired boy explained
     That our spirits would be ordained
Through a celebration of our inner light.

Onto the stage I was led
     As I stood with my class,
     Nervous amongst the mass
Of silent, numerous spirits before us.

As the boy hit the music
     I felt something from deep inside
     Rush out like a tide
And through tears of joy, I danced.

It was at that gleeful moment
     That my friends and I,
     Realizing we'd died,
Knew we'd returned to the forest.

We look like you all,
     but we’re not the same
With you, we live here
     on this meager plane.

We do not see in your way,
     have no concept of time
Although our bodies age
     we have infinite minds.

The realm from which we visit
     is filled with beauty and nature
With compassion and warmth
     we serve there as caretakers.

We were here to teach you
     in all of your ignorance,
To go back to simple lives
     of unity and innocence.

But you spat in our faces,
     and made us dismiss
You and your indifference
     in this bottomless abyss.

So here you shall stay
     until heaven turns to hell
And to the night sky we’ll ride
     to the place we once dwelled.

My breath beat shallow at a chest of stone as I looked out
At all of our houses that seemed so small from whence I stood
The sky’s true and radiant blue, I discovered at this altitude
Cloud rings spiraled down, the sun beams reflected off my goggles -
And my arms felt stiff, strapped into wings of enchanted brass
     When all of a sudden a gust swept –
          Me from the tip of my ride with such haste!
          From a cloud boat I dropped and gasped for my life!
          Cyclones of wind paddled my body and blew back my hair…
From a tumble, to falling with such grace,
I soared with a smile over my tiny little city -
And yearned at the horizon in its majesty -
     This moment and its treasures I had stolen for me.

On a gusty autumn night
Another husband was swept,
Somber under the porch light,
Abigail watched and wept.

No men were happy,
As they dealt with poor Abby –
Day in and day out,
So miserable and naggy.

Nine is such a tender age
For a father to leave his daughter,
In horror, Abby waved,
Her mind underwater.

Crimes of parents, what a shame
Those with good ones count your blessings,
Lest we forget little Abby’s pain
And teach our children similar lessons.

Gazing within, I can see the warm light
Where I sit, the rain and cold bite.
A big coat fits but doesn’t satisfy,
On a familiar portal - my eyes lie.

Cars roar by, water flies in air
The sky pours sideways, all over my hair.
Sitting outside, peering in, eyes wide -
I view my long-lost family inside.
I jealously watch their fun
And silently pray for the sun.

Raindrops on glass in front of my face,
Oh, how I yearn to be back at this place.

The faces of my heart wave and invite me back,
Grabbing the doorknob, it breaks with a snap.
I dearly miss this house, for it is no longer mine,
I watch at the window for days at a time.