The bud that blooms
In a  meadow
In spring
Tells many stories
About Snow
And rain

A sweetness comes with age,
  like fruit that’s overripe

A Poet then a Sage,
  on this journey into night

A wish distilled from all regret,
  its seeds to be re-sewn

A sweetness comes with age,
  that buried youth could never know

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October,2016)

solely engrossed, slow to emotions
prone to be a soul that is broken
lowly focus, frozen devotion
vocal notions erode when unspoken

(doing fine, i lie with a smile
while i fight my own quiet trial
i clear my head, i'm alright for a while
but
a mind that is clear is a mind in denial)

goal, avoidance of a throat opened
my vocal notions will go unspoken
choking on the voices stolen
prone to be a soul that is broken

Drain this rain from my head,
The flood is rising and my eyes are ******.
Thoughts trapped away in wonderland,
Abandoned by the trace of wonderment.
This tissued space is closing in,
I can feel it tear and hemorrhage.
Rivers of red flowing through wrinkles,
Ivory bones crumple and crinkle.
I'll sit alone, on a dusty throne
Inside of my clogged up skull.

-SLuR

Aligned with all plain and normal
And love is a way of regression
'Tis your season to be frugal
For once we'll teach youth a lesson.