We changed the date the calendars marked.
All of them in bold font.

Two weeks early and a day.
Some came with babies and swollen tummies.
The men all had shaved.

We ate, exchanged, and went our separate ways.
The day left on the calendar remained the same.
That day left open.

Nothing would be open,
except
maybe
Chinese.

Surely one didn’t see the future clearly.
The sight was taken from,
kept hidden,
cleaned.
Neatly crisp the edges are.
The borrowers illusion transforms your present hallucination.

Be wary of what you create- for it may take on a life of its own.

If only like the trees we could let go without uprooting.

Yea,
before i graduated,
before we broke up,
before kansas,
before italy,
before number five,
before you joined up under the **** commander.

I thought I knew what I was,
what I wanted,
who I’d be.

But time reminded me
of my mortality.

Accidents sculpted.
Limbs punctured.
Secrets spilled.

My foundation slipped out.
The mess was astounding.

Broken.
Bruised.
Battered.

Onlookers scoffed.
Kin took perimeter,
shielding me within.

It was there  
I remembered
who I’d been.

The name that I give you,
it will become you.
It will
embody your spirit
within its syllables.
Echoes
of its shouting
will teach your feet,
the meaning
of quick.

Teach me to make beautiful.
No beauty can I find.
Search me whole.
Tell only what thoughts appear to be mine.
First comings need an exit of least disgrace.
No one wants to be kept waiting.
For then their time might never come.
Trimmed antiques in dusty lace.

Explosions rocketed themselves skyward.
They polka doted the worlds tapestry; purposeful stains.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet.
To the west the sky was warm.
And skeletons could be seen floating,
long after the sparkle and the boom had dissipated.
Like dandelions gone to seed.
The sky celebrates with us

Old man sitting class front
Plucks his twanging banjo
Singing songs about rain
Songs about this kind of day

Imagine the tough skin
Hugging his picking thumb while he strums
The music rewinds and ages
Giving rhythm to his pulls and nods

Lines escaping from a dark wrinkled cave
Hidden behind whites and grays
Growing south like so many do
Just an old man sharing his love with you

Keeping it all the same
Hum drum going nowhere
Questioning progress
Did I go anywhere today?

Or have I just returned?

Children in lust.
Riding rhythms with their stilt limbs
throwing their bodies
in a manner belonging to the young.

Youth clouds the mind
it rains out its brilliance
in the form of something
opposed from both ends.

They attach blinders to their offspring
narrowing the vision.
They pluck dreams
like nourishment from a tree.

Composted into “usefulness”
the children remain,
stubbornly concealed within
hiding  in shadows.

Stalked into listening.
A teacher preaches patience.
Will the message stick?

Looking over the edge of a cliff
is comparable to fat fingers threading a needle.
The voice in my head mocks my fears.
Licking black berries in the fall with my mother
reminds me that all that glitters isn’t gold.
I look to the clouds and jump,
whirring the whole way down.
My audience cries shake it off.
I’m dripping wet.
Tic tac?
No.
Towel.

Take my hand and let’s walk for awhile
We’ll take a mile down the old ravine trail

Just you and me, hands clasped tightly
I will share all my stories and listen to yours eagerly

Let’s do it soon. Don’t stay away
Because every day things happen that are worthy to say

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail

The reasons are stupid they make me angry
It is about feeling just how far you want to go

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail

Just you and me, with our limbs clasped tightly
I will share all my stories and listen to yours eagerly

So take my hand and walk with me awhile
We’ll take that mile down the old ravine trail.

Sharp tongues do damage quicker than blade could manage.
Deeply scaring the mind, which in turn takes time.
Step light little princess,
Heading advice and walking with care
So as to not attract unwanted stares,
Speak when spoken to
and give pause
to process a slogan.
Think aloud only if you are alone,
inking pride deep inside.
Pretty papers leave trails that can be followed,
leaving you to weave lies that can’t be swallowed.

elders scoff while the young do worse
leaving the leaders cause to curse
looking for signs in a wrong place
seeking familiarity in a stranger's face
hope lost once
results in
hope lost twice
turning squares
rounding off corners
recreating the circle

Repeating my idols selected words
for ears of the youth who haven’t heard.
Big minds have seldom thought
that worth thinking of.
Imagine instead what of the rest?
If only they could see their best.
Have a place to believe,
the world unraveling, to all it could be.

Small and painted
dripping color
stop to stare
you’ll start to smother.

Take a minute
then be on your way
every moment
bleeds into May.

For that single
blissful second
all the world
will fade away.

Coy – if anything worth being;
could it be any sweet shorter of a word.
To collect all precious sounds and
sing them to the air.
Hoping few would reach you
where you sit.
Pretty things like yourself
deserve more than regretful confirmation
of dreaded truth.
Could not I will the world
to come true unto you… in a blink.
But quiet echoes loudly.
In the dark

Listening with new views
reminds there is more to those
living titled shrew.

Upon my shoulder rests a bee
A creature feared attentively
They are a cautious group to buzz
In gardened fields of dandelion fuzz

If I had to go and if I had a choice –
I would die as a leaf
most vibrant at the end.

We will love. And we will know pain.
Shall we ever find a quiet hope for justification?
Or will we find only what we have the resolve to search out?
Force matters as much as one’s bearings,
propelling life only with vindication of self.
Definitions, be they rational or lacking,
will not only define our world but also our worth.
For there, in potential, lies all.

My care lies in not the rest
I choose to view from safety
Hidden among the colors of my clothes
I blend into the unseen health
I am in no danger of being found
Unless I allow a sound
To escape and float away from me
Ringing in the ears of children
Curiosity teaches one to follow sense
Ignored are parents’ warnings
As the follow pitch
What will they find?