That first night sky in the high desert
was fully unexpected, with no moon yet
the lighted canopy of brilliant heavenly
sparkling bodies appeared so dense and
near that at first view I felt perhaps I must
duck down so as to not bump my head
into a star or two.

City and town skies are muted by city lights,
only a few stars visible even on a clear night.
High Desert skies are so densely packed it
takes your breath away, you can sit for hours
with your mouth agape in contemplative
wonderment, mesmerized by the sheer vast
splendor of the heavens dense blanket of
shimmering lights out into infinity and beyond.
No telescope required.

I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.

These hands...
Cast of clay.

Had basked in the sun.
Deepened lines marked their faces
and enlarged cracks marred their backs.

Rough and matured.
They spoke the language of old
and hid the ancient ruins of the past.

Held together.
Side by side,
they clenched the fantastical ideals of today.

However,
uncertain and pulled apart...
The future just falls away - a ghost.
A mirage that eludes grasp and capture.

we comfort our souls with lies
and we
burn our homes to be free.

we dab perfume on our dead bodies
and we
stitch smiles on faces to be happy.

we turn up the music (too loud)
to be deaf upon the cries of our names
wedged between curses
and scorching regrets.

we try to dance along with the songs
of ghosts -
whose skeletons have been
long forgotten in our antique closets.

we drain bottle after bottle,
light a cigarette after another,
**** ourselves so we don't die -
a surrender to loneliness is worse, after all.

and so...

we say goodbye without considering
that we are worthy enough to stay,
we apologize for the words
we actually meant to say.

we crawl back to our hollowed grounds -
yet we love with the strength of that
who has never been loved.

we travel barefoot on unknown,
desolate roads
in the hopes to find where we belong.

we do the mistakes we've done before,
not because we are stupid,
but god, because we've learned.

Lone seed,
nestled in the dirt.
Calling for rain to soothe
its parched skin.

Lone seedling,
finding foothold...
To brave billowing gusts
that threaten its conviction.

Lone tree,
rooted deep.
Set in its ways.
Change is but dream.

Lone fruit,
falls to the earth.
Defenseless and vulnerable.
Bearing the promise of
life and change
within feeble flesh.

Lone purpose.
To learn, embody
and pass on
the baton of possibilities
so that change...

Comes to fruition.

Most times,
I wished these fragments...
These fractions of a whole
would come together...

Forming the most astute of thoughts.
Illuminating the darkest of corners.
Piecing together and revealing the grandest of pictures.

But such is the nature
of a convoluted mind
because often times
they do not.

The moon's magnifying light
Ascends from the midst of the Stonehenge
Though held high in an intangible height
My crescent right-hand trace and reaches
The moons magnifying light