Death
Around every corner
Right in front of you
Killing everyone

For us, with calming winds came late,
     we know not their pain;
The seas and tides had taken care
     not even left a stain—
Of all the broken things there were,
     I still have yet to see one;
But veldts of green and daffodils,
     in which to play and run—
They say to me in a whisper soft,
     “Do not dwell on us below."
So we dance among the fields above
     those forgotten long ago.

You don't have to be a tornado
To change the world wherever you go.

You don't have to be a thunderstorm
To be heard in this noisy world.  

You don't have to be a lightning bolt
To light the world and make it glow.  

Power doesn't have to be extreme,
And being gentle isn't being weak.
The Grand Canyon wasn't formed
By an explosion, but by a stream.

(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 17, 2015)

A vague and random stimulus (often an image or sound) is perceived as significant, e.g., seeing images of animals or faced in clouds, the man on the moon, and hearing non-existant hidden messages on records played in reverse.

Mysticism is felt in the heart muscle, rustles
where no feelings truly exist. What exists
of the dead voice hollering on the recording? Ordering
the apparition’s dances under the light beam. What seems
like God is deep in the conspiracy, the marvelous irony
of mirage. Brain eats signs; feet seek sense, pearl innocence.
The ghost is the illusionist, an enthusiast
who will never reveal his true forming mist. What exists?
But in the center of the sit-and-spin, you sit within
the vault of kaleidoscope pointers, confusing spoilers.
When you cannot stand you will understand
the significance of the word shaper…who waivers.

His money isn't free.
On the first date,
He picked you up in a Phantom
which haunted your inner gold-digger
Digging to harvest stardom, but
His money isn't free.
He's wearing a Rolex
You're wearing a Swatch wrist
Hoping to switch wrists.
It's much too sad that
His money isn't free.
He's harvested his cotton
And you're ready to rob him
But his ex keeps calling
Little Miss Lee Kaching!
She can sense your scheming;
she screams through the speakerphone,
"His money isn't free!"
Now he's seen
your blades, your spades, your grenades
hidden in the dark of your shade.
He's grabbing those keys
Leaving his seat saying,
"My money isn't free!"
Now you're left alone
With your flip phone,
Not even an iPhone.
And the waiter comes by,
Drops the bill and says,
"This meal isn't free."

I tried to show you the stars
but all you saw was black sky.

I tried to lift you up
but all you noticed was how far you had to fall.

I tried to sing to you
but all you heard was the silence between words.

I tried to give you warmth
but all you felt was the itch of my sweater.

You're far too aware,
yet so very blind.

mosaic morning
brown eyed
sunflowers
dancing in
the golden
sun

I now see the circumstances of ones life
created in this world surrounded by cruelty and hate.
It's what you do with this gift
that determines who you are,
by doing what is right from the very start.
This is how you will go so far,
not letting the world stop you
from who you truly are.