Lost in contemplation of Christ,
Newspaper clippings of the past
Fascination of a story
I only saw
In the eyes of my father
Who looked at his father
With dignity
And a second of the life before
Enveloped us
For we each were history
And time’s ***** red sneakers
That collect in the corner of a closet

Under siege
Piano keys
Assaulted by staccato breeze
Across the ice, voices plead
And from contorting accents,
Legato’s free
Sadness and some misery
Then pauses in between
2 beats, 4 beats,
CRASH CRASH CRASH
Below, my finger starts a clash
But quickly it goes slow once more
Higher, where the angles soar
Harmony seamlessly flows together
Before the clouds cover light
And the air thickens
Suspense trickles down my bones
And exalts itself from the rule of the instrument
To run away into the audience’s ears
Which leaves the silence, and joyous tears
Bravo, Bravo! I hear them cheer.

Carry only a backpack into the future’s embrace,
Leave behind the luggage of yesterday’s trace.
It costs dearly to drag what’s past,
Travel light, for freedom holds fast.

Godawful heartbreak is only what she knows
Fairytale’s smoke teeters on the edge of a nightmare
For which she is the main character

The sun releases her puppeteering demons
As they adapt to the light,
And the feeling busts at the seams

The knowing moon is her therapeutic hymn
But is the mercury that chains her mind to his prison shackles
Long after the mad hatter’s curse has faded
And his hand, poisoned by the vile actions done.

The cup is half empty
Her heart is half full
But her trust is just a void in both.

Mother Earth calls for me,
Though,
I am only a poor, grey bird
On the verge of collapsing
By the gleam of her sun.
And her voice,
Giving me hope,
Lifts my wings once more
to float on her dizzying air.
Then I remember,
My somber song,
Which spared me from the wind
That will not let go.
I felt comfort in the ground,
that left me in the unknown,
And this memory kept me sane throughout Mother Earth’s song,
For I knew that she was more lost than me,
Distracted by her vibrant green,
While I was free at last.
And so,
With my mind melting at the scene,
I cut my left wing,
And fell towards her naked lands.
Truly flying once more, she called to me in worry
“Little bird, little bird, what are you doing?”
And I called back in whispers loud enough for her ears
But quiet, so insanity does not wake my soul once more
“Don’t you know? I am more sane than you.”
So sophisticated I was, for a poor grey bird.
My eyes were always closed in the absent minded flock.
I told them, many,
to look closer, for they flew, surely,
towards destruction,
But they could not escape.
Life had just begun for I, an insignificant grain of sand,
Nothing really mattered.
And as I gained on her ground,
My feathers burned in anticipation,
My fall, a blaze of truth and wonder
Against mother’s evil heart.
Time? There was none.
Love? there was none.
Malice? There was none.
Only my firework that would be absorbed by the shadows
Before any glimpse of truth could reach them.
In tears, mother cried out,
“Please! Save your soul!”
Now there was I, and sadness for the world.
How terrible a life, led by a blind Shepard.
Finally,
I could see very well,
The darkness of her ground
And secrets beneath the beauty.
And in my heart, a somber song felt its way through my beak,
out into the air to be carried by fate’s wind for long,
Longer still,
“Don’t you know? I am more sane than you.”
And there was time.
And there was love.
They left with me to the end
“Farewell”
I said to the malice,
“I pray for you, brethren.”

Ineffable- "too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.”

Trying to find my way to you,
But I keep getting lost in your eyes
Before you go I wave to ya
Staring at your lips, then mine
I know I should say something
But my head is running in circles,
overthinking-
my words,
my thoughts,
The way that I walk
If I should mention the 2 birds in the sky,
Flying high and free
Just like you and me.
Do I try to hold your hand?
I’m trying to understand
what to do.
What to do..

“And when you walk down the hallway and I blush
Your so confident, I’m shy and sometimes too much
How could we work out with my head in the clouds..?”

Oh, I think I said that aloud..

..And you smiled

The sun began to fall from the sky
The moon turned a blind eye
The ground crumbled beneath my feet
The trees died out when I touched their branches..
The people sought to erase my chances.
The animals whimpered and growled when we’d meet
The clouds didn't make shapes anymore, just grey, depressing things floating atop me every day.
My house fell apart by one knock on the door. I hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be too expensive.
The building fell to dust when I needed to step on the roof, away from the ensnarement of life, and its cycle of despair.
The electric wires burned out only when I thought about the rest of the world, only faint radio sounds cured my curiosity.
The knife in my hand turned dull in a pinch,
So soft my skin couldn't be pierced.
The car exploded into flames when I walked by the street,
“Poor guy” I thought, “Poor guy..”
And soon every stone with the capacity to **** me,
transformed into chalk.
Why was this happening to me? I couldn’t tell you.

Until, one day, on Fairway Road,
an old lady, in an antique dusty purple coat stopped at my feet
I laid there starving, refusing to eat.
She introduced herself as Marilyn Scott,
Who loved her earl grey and the petunias she cared for so dearly.
Mrs. Scott went on about how there was a war in Europe,
One that threatened the lives of the people in my state.
Then, again, changed the subject to her profitable farm
down the ways, in the fields.
"The freshest milk in Montana!" She'd say.
Meanwhile I remained on the cold cement, wishing for this pain to end.
But she kept on chatting, and chatting.
"My husband just passed about a month ago.." She said
"My dear son Rob just graduated from his studies" She said.
"Bread prices are down, this week." She said!
and she said, and she said, and she wouldn't stop saying.
Meanwhile my mind was rotting, decaying.
Then she finally stopped, and gave a large sigh
And looked me dead in the eye.
"Mr. Arthur" she said, point blank.
"Mr. Arthur, how have you been?"
I froze and stopped breathing.
All feelings of hunger dissipated.
The cold air, like her, was comforting to me.
I realized, she acknowledged my existence, like no one had before.
"Mrs. Scott," I nodded my head,
"I'm doing fine."
With all my energy,
I leapt up, and brushed down my chalky knees, like a gentleman would.
And finally, taking my chance, I asked her: "Say, where could I purchase the freshest milk in all of Montana?"

And she said.