Carcass of an old
Self
Death paves way for
Regeneration - a service gifted
Within one generation
Without alienation
Dips and follies only culminate in the diamond from coal

My heart sits where he sits
Now, I'm the same wounded healer
No night time dealers beware
We know survival skills -
We are soft but we could ****
Touch the hummingbirds wing
Send fear running  
We quick , we cunning

Evade the fortress walls
Tumble the towers with rose petal showers
Weapon of choice - a smile
Business card states that I spread love and he spreads laughter
You know we ain't after cash
But that's the whiplash

Anyway
We were born to play , so we play it well , better than I'd care to tell
Stay humble leave no room to grumble
Keep the tune light , till we ignite the daytime night

My soul is his soul and his soul is mine
It's not essential so we ignore space and time
No way to express the words that don't flow when the energy exchange is enough to know , my child's father

My lover is harmonies peals and sweet serenading appeals
I , gift , me unto you , the wrapping is golden but the present is still hidden
A surprise for the patient wounded healers healed in each other- ready to heal anew

Both of us - asleep in our parallel worlds under the umbrella of ambient lighting
A shameless copy of the pure sunlight
That emanates from their bodies
When they collide on the material
Plane .

i , yes, i , no not I but i in my life so young , have found
God. No , not God, life. No , not life, light. No , not light , darkness.
Oh, i , yes , i , oh.... i , saw , i...

through the rapidly clearing miso soup of my perspective
it is as if each whirlpool of salty broth , clears to reveal a single piece of seaweed
that splatters on the floor as i drop the bowl
oops
paradigm shift.

And just like that , the afternoon light which was just environmental delight becomes a so , essential detailed
prop to the existential conversations baseline drop

later , after i have pondered what this new fangled spyglass lends to my current present
i pick up a magazine by the name of 'Ok!' ... i read only the images and few words in english
i put it down
i have a headache.

i get up , i feel sick
i read the front 'Super Dad'
so harsh , so much pressure to fit into the narrow channeled idea
somethings got to give , this ain't living it's a waiting room for the already dead
Horoscope tells 'KNOW YOUR FUTURE NOW'

at least that's accurate...
( pun)

Woke up at six AM to the sun
streaming in
your window, to your mother
banging pans downstairs.
Turned over,
you were there, asleep,
reached out and you were so real
and alive and I was confused.
I had made myself believe
you were gone forever but
you won't teach this old ***** new tricks.