Last night,
I held the ocean's hand,

It was soft and giving,
Nothing like the mysterious depths you described,
That body of water was created inside your mind,
You built her up so high, she couldn't help but fall,
Couldn't help but violently crash onto the rocks below

Now she's bruised and cut, with precious pieces missing,
But I'll be the sun that rises and sets for her every night and day,
and I am not afraid of what lies beneath,
Because she's seen my face, even the masks I try to hide,

I smile and kiss her cheeks,
She is 70% water and I will drink her before drowning in the warmest depths of her skin,

Perhaps the moral of this story is that your ocean,
was never meant to be crossed,
It dwells like a black sea, with secrets and the broken hearts of others,
When the night is betrothed to the shadows,
He does not betray her and seek out other light,

But you did,

And now the ocean is gone,
Her gentle waves have reached a safer shore,
and I will keep her here with gentle truth and love

The ocean isn't just beautiful at night, but she is full of rage and fury,

And at last,

She is mine.

the fatalist in me thinks about a Trump vote
quietly marking the box that will end the American dream
snickering to myself as the ballot falls into the bin
knowing I have done my part to bring about the end –
destroying families across the land
and building a wall greater than any Chinese design
breaking the back of a faltering agricultural system
asking the masses of impoverished to stand right there with him –
expressing a desire to actually nuke Iran
and that the military would rival that of any era
planning on expanding our empire abroad
telling the public that peace is a fraud –
I cannot help the reality that I am entertained
frozen with terror, eyes peeled to the spectacle
this train wreck developing is really just catching speed
could the American people willingly vote for greed –
there is only one way to bring about the end of days
and like anything it takes work, practice, and dedication
but this move seems more real than any before
we are all being wooed by Babylon’s ***** –
I, for one, am going to sit back and enjoy this ride
it’s not often one gets to see the fall of Rome
a nice mountain lake; spring fed and crystal clear
waits hidden in the mountains if the end gets too near –
see, having a plan means there’s no reason to worry
and gives me the advantage to vote for your doom
while most of you sit, hands folded to pray
I’ll hike to the hills when we come to the end of days –
maybe I won’t survive the coming nuclear battle
when ‘the donald’ shoots his mouth off to Vladimir Putin
or Kim Jon, or Iran, or the Afghani folks
but until then I will prepare and go on making jokes –

inside of the inside out
or outside looking in
inside i have no doubt
but outside its within

kept out, right side in
what is it all about?
doesn't start until i begin
to let the inside out

it's getting scarier by the HOUR
OUR world will never see PEACE
PIECE by piece we're overpowered
overpowering us as our fears increase

we sit idle as hatred BREWS
BRUISED by the war torn SCENE
SEEN as only pawns to lose
losing all of our hopes and dreams

i am the stone that is thrown
that hits the water
causing a ripple
a tiny wave
across a giant ocean
touching shore
washing over tiny particles
molecules and micro-organisms
drowning some
bringing life to others

the world is so backward
being forward puts you behind
looking upward, toward the heavens
hoping to find an outward shine