In autumn is always the leaves
in summer is always the rain
without you, is always the tears
falling on my poetry
pages wet
the silence
a knife
slicing my heart to pieces

I sat there
in the dark
staring at emptiness
the room grey with dust
my mind as empty as the bottle
I noticed three small black dots
lying in the corner
as dead as me

Then, a spirit stirred
Invisible to a teary eye
the black dots moved
and grew
      and grew

Now they are up in the sky
out of reach
from human touch

One is the Sun
the other the Moon
the third my heart

Every night
my harrowed mind
dive into our littered memories
that's evermore enshrined in my dreams.

I have seen grown
men throwing stones
into still rivers
rivers that are
tired of running
they watch small birds
feast on smaller
living things
they breath out a
steady stream of
blue sadness
they sit in cars
reading Kerouac
looking up at
long naked legs
they have outlived
their fathers
idea of youth
they have played
the puzzle of
insolvable love
they are lost in
quiet rooms
they ask her
politely to leave
they wait for the
dust to settle …
Clay.M

There is a gentle breeze
that whispers through
an open window
it carries poetry from
the high mountains
poetry from the
shepherds lonely nights
it is here where the
isolation is at its sweetest
but when you hear
music and laughter
in the company of
fierce clapping hands
down to the village
you must go …
Clay.M

When my thoughts
fall like heavy rain upon
the blue birds tired wings
and the ice cracks into
countless splinters upon
the quiet pool of simplicity
I hear the angels weep
like distressed children
I see tall buildings sway
with the weight of whispering
I gather my temporary things
my breath my life
my pen and paper
I make my way to the
pure white sands of forgiveness
looking out across the
endless mad ocean
I pretend to be a writer
I cannot compete with
the poetry of waves …
Clay.M

I can't do brain
I can't do thoughts
I can't do friends
And I can't do smoking in parking lots

I can't do death
But I also can't do living

I can't do anything
Except for just giving
And giving

Witnesses of all time.
On holy grounds they are.
Many people laid to rest everywhere over millions of years.
Living further in green suits,
majestic and tall.
In all shapes and forms.
People come and go.
Look at them standing now.

Forest full of green
Our ancestors watching.
Giving us oxygen to breathe.
Handle it with care.


Shell✨🐚