Pick a stick.
Make music

lets be a gypsy of time.
lets sing aloud, unbothered by rhyme.

lets walk in rain.
lets get wet and forget all pain.

lets whistle to breeze.
lets let it blow and echo out of reach.

lets hide hope in all places.
lets stroll the world and leave its traces.

Have you had dreams,
lately?

Stepped into a world,
you always longed.
Where you reigned and ruled,
a place you belonged.

Created Cloud Empire,
in likeness of your own.
All done and dusted,
a nascent new born.

But are you unsure,
Are you so pure?

Do you gallop,
as shiny armored knight.
The words you utter,
are they always right?

Did you wander into you?
the one that survive?
The small tiny bits,
of you alive.

Have you had dreams,
lately?

Have you chased it?
Have you faced it?

have you had dreams,
lately?

The sun kissed day
Flows over our life.
And we prepare again
For daze of the night.

The gloom of the clouds
Surrounds our sky.
Gift of snow flakes
Or just another lie?

Brunette across the table,
Forms whirlwind with her wine
Her touch of infidelity,
Gives evening its shine.

Friends circle the light,
Creating little smoke ring.
They defeat the cold
With laughter and drink

Two and a half dumplings lay wasted on the plate.
Lazy swaying haze
erupting with an eased reluctance
from the ignored cigarette.
Smells of whiskey from the air arise,
tiny fragrance of spirit indulged with ice.

Inky shadows disturbed the empty room.
Silence altercating with pulse of the clock.
Strumming of six strings broke in on occasion,
partnered by a song.
Low, long and strong.

She left herself
For dozen strange gaze
For sweet little lies
And fake plastic face.

Scars in her heart
she arrived at a path.
The shrugging street light
illuminated her a way.
It’s a bitter cold night,
She preferred to stay.

Dreams in her eyes,
She reached for paradise.
In the same old  pain,
Love threatens her, again.

Spinning around
the revolting door.
Floated pauper
casting ashore.

Rainbow shadows
on fields of ****.
Drowned delusion
and fleets of drop.

Highway hymns
held on leaves.
forgotten smiles
for haloed thieves.

Cusped cup
over escaping steams.
Misty morning.
Disappearing dreams.

What have you been seeing,
You poor disgusted being.

By the road,
below stale black cloud.

On the wall,
busy people.

with blinky little gape.
waiting...
for spare scrape.