The clearest nights are the coldest nights
Silver dawn
Hear  the drums of morning play
For as long as I can see back,
I wondered to discover
Where do I belong in this world?
Merely a few minutes in a lifetime of companionship,
no one ever understanding me writing me off as a weird dream.
I never went looking for poetry,
it found me longing for my romantic story of life
I hope I have done it justice
The fluttering call of lazy seas,
pounding the shore of a Lotus haunted mind.
These colonies of Dreamscapes

Beneath the vault of light
So many nights we dance
with echoes That free the muse
And inject the mind with inky knots
That drift from memories to dreamscapes
Washed upon thoughts
To bleed on the page a sigh of morphine
Deep as the hue of red wine
Starching out towards the void
As if eternity was anything
Whispering our deepest fears to awkward angles
Stillness passes our eternal night
So come poets scared and alone
I will follow you into the darkness
And when we sleep
We’ll dream of the sweetest things
For there still a little light that shines in our tired eyes

Twice a day he smoked his pipe
In dusky are along with painted shadows of varnished light
Passing over smoldering pages
He hungered for perfection in an imperfect world
Amongst inky echoes
Speaking of gold of Yesterdays
Liquid sky’s
Borrowed thoughts
Melancholy gloom
As well as lost dreams
Passing over the trials of man
With hopes of relinquishing
His heart and head
The anguish that fills his night and day
To dance in the poetic spirit of an immortal euphoria

The sky to the west lights up with saffron, laced in  pink, The last rays of sunshine reflect gold  off the dry crops.
Shadows Chase the night, the moon enters the stage, A sky  Cosmic Colbert
The crickets play their strings, bullfrogs sing.
Sparrows dance among Wheat tassels swaying to and throw like a lost humming bird in the evening breeze.
And the wind whispers your name with a lonesome sigh.
With a teardrop in your eye you bid summer daydreaming Goodbye,
With bitterness you welcome winter with all its lies.
And the wind whispers a lonesome sigh.
Who are we to say it's wrong?

Frost on the window
Midnight painted blue
Soul so still
Radiator creeks
Teapot whistles
I peer out into a blue deep
Look at the halo around the moon
Snow is coming
I meditate
So deep and blue
Yellow light in my room
It makes me feel warm
Burning sage brings calm
Soul so still
Morning dove on my windowsill
Cooing at midnight
Reminds me of you
See me in my thoughts
So deep and blue
Take me back
When the night was new

To Charcoal sky’s
To late night jazz
To copper air
To black note books of poems
To cold coffee cup rings
To warm cigarettes
To lost dreams
To Long talks to your self during the witching hour
To midnight frost
To empty corners and yellow street lights
To seasons mist
To Solitude
To moonlit alley crawls
To the stars at the bottom of empty wine bottles
To insomnia
To me
Time Idols  between  heavens storms
Given our hours forlorn