Caught in the raptures of thought,
Breast swelling with speech,
Every breath like a mountain,
Held heavily.

An avalanche of moments,
Time rushing down,
Eyes hover suspended,
As images push out.

All holding the world at bay,
Ideas take its place,
Across tables and carpets,
They fill the space.

Turning thoughts in my head,
I focus on my lips,
Biting them coyly,
As after some kiss.

I stood ankle deep upon the shore,
Speaking verses evermore.
Verses strong and right and true,
I spoke them proudly at the blue.

The tide came swift
For my well-sunk feet,
So I curled my tongue and toes,
And spoke my verses louder still,
Against the mighty tow.

Waves hit me high
And sunk my chest,
But further still I ****** my breast,
****** in deep and help my breath,
As water washed around my neck.

Then lashed I, water with word,
An argument, which was superb,
That Neptune himself would have been convinced,
Had water not my lungs entrenched.

The world does not trade in words;
Only fools argue with the sea,
But if you would like to try,
Come and drown with me.

Oh to be brought low by greater expectation!
To take flight on fanciful notions
And fall tangled in experience;
To lie and struggle 'against the strings,
Making cuts and pulling hearts,
To know that what must be done,
But wish that none
 Will taste it's bitterness.

Someone had lit the horizon on fire.
Out on the ocean it glowed,
Burning back the heavy ghost of the sky.

With weak orange it bounced under the clouds
Cutting a swath,
lava beneath an icy glacier.

Ferociously it struck through the gloom
To fire my imagination.
I knew waves that danced in sun
and vast distances, the world stretched to fill them.

Beneath the shade
the sun had reached me
And I'd reached back.

There is joy
 In weighted chest and heavy breathes.
And something wholly different about the world,
Seems to seep,
 In through weakly gazing eyes.

The world is slow with gloom;
Trees make lazy shakes
And cars roll silently,
Their sounds far off from here.

There is painted depth in every piece
A world taken in repose,
Each detail can be felt,
Not with senses, but with soul.

When sadness strikes your senses,
Makes them numb and cold,
Let the world slip in gently,
Have beauty take its toll.

I want always to be talking to you,
To feel connected in some way.
But when I think of you,
I hardly know what to say,
Because the thought of touching you
Pushes everything else away.

Only gods could have built this city.
The tall buildings do not make you small;
They were built with the spirits of men
And they build a fire within mine.

I feel as if I can shout as high as they,
My words can carry their weight.
I am empowered,
My breath is fire.

The spirit of mankind is in this city,
And it will only grow:
It will fill every soul who looks toward sky
And sees himself standing there.

In this city is a fire,
That will burn the world.