If only I could tie
All the birds to
The tree.
A simple cord
From branch to knee.


The birds would work
Together. In chaos
Comes flight.

Carry the tree south…a message:
The winters are warmer.
Before the oak wilt sets
Before the mistletoe comes.

The birds can save the trees.
Instead they sit and Tweet.
Then **** on my car.

Her footsteps sounded
In a time unbounded
By pain
And worry
And woe.

The day carried on
Until she was drawn
By lust.
Innocence
Destroyed.

A serpent made sure
The lovely and pure
Woman
Would return
To dust.

The cobbled red stone
Lays low as her throne
The earth
Reclaims the
Beauty.

Eve’ning colors shined
But mankind is blind
To beats
And dances
Of old times.

The boulder seems
Cold to the touch.
The calluses on my fingers
Scratch at the rock.

Slowly the tools
Come into my hands.
Piece by piece
My hammer chips and chinks.

Blisters break open
And the rock
Turns to steel.

Hot metal, fired
In the oven,
Sparks to life
With each
Strike of my hammer.
Heavy tools feel light
In my hands.

The metal cools
The blade begins
To shimmer.
And then melt.

Like ice on a hot day,
The steel drips
Deep burgundy
Gently, slowly
Into the chalice
In my hands.

The elegant golden cup
Vessels the fine wine
Into my mouth.

But it is only stagnant water
In a cup made of stone.

Reality consumes me.
Bright trees look gloomy
When my eyes are opened.

I am lost, but I still
Wander.
My path is clear, my
Destination…I still
Ponder.

When my eyes close
My sight is in rose.
A satin breeze carries me
Home.

No home for the lost.
I remember what I’ve found
And what I’ve crossed.
The stars tell me its hopeless
No home for the lost.

Around the bend
And to
The top.
Piece by piece I climb
And fall.

Maybe…is the end in sight?
The fall of dark
Is swept by light.
Warmth grows in me.
Strangely I feel delight.
Reaching the summit
My eyes open wide.

All that I see is how much
I cried.

Where is my mind?
Trapped in my words.
Where is my heart?
Flying with the birds.

Paper can’t contain
What my heart sees
In it’s gaze.
My conscious can’t cut
It’s thick smoggy haze.

Beat after beat
My heart flutters
It’s wings.
Looking down
On the World
It glides with ease.
My mind can’t keep up
It’s spastic
Like the bees.

Together they work
Against one another.
Only my love
Can link them together.

Peaceful turmoil, and a roar
So blue. The gentle sounds
Come crashing over you. Puckered
Green in a scope white and true.
How can you lose hope
With such beauties around you?

He walked full of class
Pinky never touched glass.
Sharp in the thread
Stiff lip and moustache.

When angry he turned red
His taunts filled clients with dread.
Even his wife wasn’t at ease
When Mr. Gada was raising dead.

His day started with grease
In his hair, and pressed every crease.
Next the pills glazed his eyes
And dampened his seize.

The cheat hid many lies
A past life was no surprise.
He told her he was focused
He talked with clever disguise.

He worked to fill his lust
But late nights made the Mrs. mistrust.
If she said a word his blood would steam
She lay silent, wishing to feel just.

But karma came to ream
His ugly and immoral scheme.
He let business mix with pleasure
Trips to Spain made his dream.

The mistresses husband saw her
And came charging in full measure.
Took a knife to the cheaters cheat
In a jab he lost his treasure.

Spain’s doctors laughed at his meat
Fixing would be too much a feat.
Mr. Gada sobbed and cried
When his wife threw him out on the street.