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Red fish, blue fish,
I wish you were
in the sea so
you could swim
with me.

Bright star, true star,
how far you are
from where it is
you need to be.

Sad eye, glad I
got myself to give
a smile to the air-
she was twirling
her hair.

Now here we are-
we can see our
conversation flare.

Let's veer far
from who we are;
forsake our stake
on there.
So there’s two school’s of thought.
Invaluable could mean valuable.

Why would they be synonyms?
I don’t know. Not my school.

Invaluable could also mean not valuable
because it makes a lot more sense.

Some people prefer sticking to what sticks,
and others prefer sticking to what's stuck.

At the very least we all agree:
Those conventions are invaluable.
The circle meets under each new moon,
and sees a gleaming lunar noon.
Facing together, they’re singing about
the night they blew the moonlight out.

And in the moonlight did they weep
for silver simmering in its keep;
they dreamt demonic days asleep,
and saved their breath only to shout

until they blew the moonlight out.
And then in the darkness did they creep
like Spider in the water spout,
or like a flock of wounded sheep;

Sirius said the wolves will sleep,
then painted the dirt a deep maroon.
Sower shall sow, and reaper shall reap;
they dined in darkness, free of doubt.

And if the hour is dawning soon
the circle sees the silver spoon,
they’ll forge an empire in the deep,
and then they’ll blow the moonlight out.
Cupping drops of chocolate in island palms,
I ate one like life, sweet and bitter;
like silk and butter; like the sweet dark
oblivion of sleep but better.
And in my trance I took another,
and another, until I had just one,
and mindful now of what my indulgence
would soon become,
to be no more, I savored the last drop
and rolled it about on my tongue like
a word for one I love,
and after wondered to myself-
in which drop lay the deeper satisfaction
now that all were passed?
The very first one, or the very last?
Young is yes, but no
is longer-
let’s be slow
together, stronger.
Feather floating
way, way back
to live forever
in the black
that was and will,
and is but not-
you be still,
and still taste hot
despite the cold;
forget the lot
that you were sold.
If you ask me,
it's growing old.
To talk
like best friends on a midnight walk,
to sing
like it's the first morning of spring,
to laugh
like you just found the first giraffe,
to cry
like the falcon whose wings don't fly,
to love
like you're falling from far above,
to hate
like they've stolen your empty plate,
to learn
like tomorrow our books will burn,
to read
till you fear your heart will bleed,
to teach
to the children the power of speech,
and to do
unto others as they'd do unto you.
You may say that I’m a dreamer,
but my dreams are all I have-
if they die, then so do I.
So I have to try.

Friends say I’ll climb this mountain
and discover that it has no peak-
still, I have to know how high.
To know, I have to try.

Many are saying through twisted eye
that I’m a fool and dreams will lie-
they’ve seen even less than I.
For them too, I have to try.

I’m a fool, and always have been,
but that’s just no way to die-
and even Icarus got to fly.
I too, have to try.
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