The wane and ebb of the wave within my brain,
A pain ever-glowing, flowing within
Why can't I sing any longer?
Why won't these thoughts remain insane?

I bid good night to the spider,
it's been a wonderful life.
But now this too must end,
as my heart is numbed by iron.

The toad looked to the sunset,
greeted it with a weary croak.
It nestled in, starting its night.
Mundane and filled with peace.

I wonder what it means to be
a toad. Green ridged with gold.

Do his hops hold a destination?
Do his tears hold longing?
Or is it blood, cogs, and gears?

A mind filled with static.

I do not know, and perhaps I never will.

I write a story when I don't even know how it ends.


It was a beautiful home, a white picket fence,
two children, 9 and 5, play on the porch.

The sun shines through peeping through the window pane.
While Father sits baking an  apple pie in a well-worn kitchen.
The neighbor boy comes a knockin wanting to play too.
Oh what a scene, what a peace, what a LIFE.

Mother rests in her room and cries and wilts and ******* dies
Why?

The child looks up to the window, wavers and falls.
Behind him sits the moon, and reality wanes.
Father gone, mother too.
Alone again crumbled to dust.
Why?

I do not know.
Do you?

There is a beast baring its fangs at me.
Praying I take just one more step forward
so it may rip me apart, piece by piece.
The warm glow of my lantern highlighting
the glint in its eye, the sheen in its hide.
Without warning it leaps its jaw unhinged.
Fluids pour out, some saliva some blood
and my scattered remains oil the earth.

Within hours the sun is beating down,
and my remnants fester and become grey.
Soon the blood boils brown, dyeing the clay.
My skull smiles at nothing but the sky.
The name of its lost life long forgotten,
as it is buried, entombed by Gaia.
Centuries flash and my remains are ash,
but still, with the confidence of the ******,
I know this ash will still remember you.

Looking down at the blood muddled by ink.
A shadow of vermouth composes the chain,
as she whips the words against its cold link,
alas she bites against the flame again.

A bone-cracked brief foray into the haze,
pierced by onyx moon-beams that shine the way.
A magic, ultimate, powerful gaze
that guides itself beyond the yesterday.

A stream at the tale's end of the abyss.
Dip your toes, look back, and offer a grin.
Turn down the diamonds and offer a kiss.
Finally, you are ready to begin.

Mercy John peep into the collard green.
Dance until your bones' souls shiver and ache.
Murmer to mother with your possum's grin.
Allow the summer scents to bless your praise.

How do you find the crystal in the coal?
How do you love a child freshly scorned?
How do you shake the demons from your brain?
How do you stop the rot from the mundane?

With love, hands in hands, and a peace of mind.
With trust, implicit in your eyes and mine.
With words, spoken soft dispelling the flames.
With time, patience, eyes opened in the rain.