Poetic justice
He put it in a song
And so he wrote the words
Created visionary substance
in an apothecary instance
Where the world went numb
And all life had failed to believe
The fact of the flowers
For the light had hid in shadow
Until the song came on
And justice had begun

-k.m

she told us of her conversations
With all the stars
And constellations
how they taught her how to dance
And so
She showed them how to sing
Soundless however
So marvelous
And with the moon they pray
For a place so perfect
And for the girl
Who dances through the streets
To the music only she can hear

his heart
wasn't like the others
it didn't just beat in sync with anyone
because he had never truly been in love,

and so the many maidens, so beautiful, believed to convince him
of their love
for the boy
and for his heart

until the night came for each of them
so beautiful, the maidens
and so he sat and spoke
"do look into my heart, and tell me what you see, for I am unsure of what fate my feelings confess"
So each of the girls had looked into his heart.

The first had looked upon the surface, for her love was weak
and all she saw was the face of the boy
walking hand in hand with another whose face was shaded
hidden and unable to discover.
"I see nothing" she said,
and with this the boy knew his heart did not beat for her.

The next did look deep into the heart,
for her passion for the the boy did exist
and she had only hoped for the relief of his love for her
so deep into his heart she cast her eyes
only to find him holding in his arms
someone other than herself
the portrait blurry
and so she knew now that this love she must let go
a fiction
because she does not have the heart for which he craves

the rest of them had looked even deeper, and all saw similar images
of the boy and the mystery of persona. Of a girl.

And so the boy felt discouraged. His heart grew tired of the analysis, and the abundance of hope had diminished to mere existence. Despair had begun to cry upon his shoulder, and so he turned to the one who never failed him. He believed that she, in fact, could help him and his heart.

This one.
She had seen his heartbreak over and over, for the times he forced himself to fall in love with the past, this one would watch him fall to fall with him herself. She cared for him like no one else, and he was ever grateful for someone like this. She promised to assist him in searching for the mystery, and so after seeing how close to giving up the boy was, she thought about looking into his heart for herself. There must be something the others may have missed.
"Please look" he said, "Tell me who it is my very heart does let me live for. You must tell me of the girl I do love. Her face I must know."

And so the girl's eyes made contact with the core of his heart
his soul desire
and at the initial glimpse she saw

nothing like the others...
not the boy, nor the shadowed figure of another girl

but a face
in clear description

she looked into the heart of the boy whom she had loved forever
into the mirror of fate
the reason his heart now beat in sync
with hers
at that very moment
of fate's own reflection

the boy felt his heart beat in perfect rhythm
of love

there's this feeling that i have
tangled to explain
deep but not in depth enough
to be hidden
and so it keeps me up
eyes open and awake
in day

but in night
the feeling is more awake
like the stars
consume my mind
my wonder
why
must the feeling be
so real
and awake
Heaven let me sleep
let the feeling doze i beg!

and when it starts to rain
i can not help but feel the rain
for the tears
are all the words i can not say
in a letter nor a song
because i'd only play it over and over
and over in my head
for you
and here i lay awake.

until the clocks
the hands do take me
into a rest
and so i pray for the silence
of my thoughts
and dreams to soothe the feeling

so i close my eyes
to dream
i'm saved ! i'm saved !
goodbye my love
for i am saved !
until the feeling
shakes me in abrupt
i keep my eyes closed
so tight
for i fear the sight of fire
that ignites the feeling
let it sleep !
please God let it sleep !
I tremble
with chills for the dream is spiked with poison
the curse of emotion
it wakes me up

and now it's day

I never thought  
I could love You
More than I love
The stars
The sound of the ocean
Conversing deep within the soul of the world
I found it to be true
The stars shining brighter than ever before
Like they wanted us to see them
And wonder,
"What if"
Along the bay
Rocks walked all over
By adventurers
The realists

And You held the flashlight
So I followed You
Into the dark
Timeless
You asked me to write about us
How I fell in love with You
How I fell in love with the moment

And here it is

silence is such a sound
in a place where thoughts make music
time stops
measured solely by the skips
the heart knows it all to well

first song.
ocean drive
as the waves echo within the night
call witness on the stars
because they know it all to well

silence.

next song.

the beat collides with the waves
and so becomes a melody
rhapsodic in the tides
escaping shores
unsure of where my thoughts have drifted to
where next?
i fear the silence
until
i forget about the sound
and remember the music

it's just another interlude.

next song.

Do you know
where the wild things go?

I have heard stories

From my mother
Spoken with wise words
Before i knew
How to study the tides
By the pull of the moon
Is gravity even such a thing?...
I hear it may be true
For the wild things
Do walk upon the shore
That pulls me closer now

Awaken by this very nightmare
Vivid
Pools of Red within my sea
Of blue
The war against the wild by these free spirits
Tamed in this enigma-Atlantica
Flames forever engulf my very hope to be
Part of that world
The scars shall exist eternal
Upon my blue, blue heart
Instilled within my skin-
Splintered by a ship of wild things made of wildwood

I have heard
Of things called trees
My mother told me stories of such forests where
I too, would like to get lost
To walk around on those               feet.
I dream
Until time does transcend
For the song
Of my ocean-
I forget the words-
These sands now made of ash
Where her song does fade only now to whisper   oh       so         silently
By the waves

I try to shake the spears
That have pinned me to this ocean floor
Too many times
I must go!
Father,
I must see!
For myself a world where i
Have been told how much I will love someone named Dance
I so deeply wish to meet with Dance so soon
A beautiful name dressed by grace-in white
My mother sang to me and told me how Dance does love song
More than any other
More than me?
She whispered,
“You will find out for yourself”

And so i shall
“She shall escape”
My mother told them-the wild things

Apart
From this world
Under the sea
I sacrifice my very song
The one my mother did gift to me so long ago
Wonders treasured here within the cavern of my heart
So blue
My voice does wash away
To be
A part of your world
Dear Wild Things,

If only you could hear my voice
With love it may return!
In rhythm i dance
with him now
I look into eyes
A blue so deep-
Aquamarine-
A sense of belonging
My heart does feel at home once again
The truth-i understand
The tales-in awe they listen
These many stories i will forever tell
Of such sea creatures-wild.

Aren’t we all?

many the
miles
i'd surely walk to you
for the day you board
the plane to a place
where you shall dream
another dream
without me
in mind
i'll think of you
and so i think of you
and close my eyes
only to have them opened
to the most wonderful sight
existent as a memory
one i treasure oh so fondly
for i love you
and i'll love you
and the miles?
you may wonder
what the future holds
along the journey
wonderful things
and so i have thought
and so i am sure
that
love-
my love,
is infinite

as darkness coats the sky
and the sun falls
slowly
sweetly
into the parralel of dreams
he kisses the world goodnight
and so he rests
in serenity
chaos oh so calm
a soundless portrait of perfection

i am awake.

ignited by the sense of adventure
my thoughts wrestle within the depth of my mind
emotions shake my soul
and so I go
out into the world
where the dark becomes my oasis
where i am alive
within the night

but not you.

sleeping through time
for you're unaware of what you're missing
the wonder of the night
you fail to explore
the beauty behind the madness

i am alive.

i count the stars
as i conquer the unthinkable
i dance through blackened streets
and if it starts to rain
i laugh
and i dance in the rain
because the night
is where it all began.

i am the night.

clocks
falling from the sky
and hear i stand
watching them fall
there from up above
down below
my feet
i watch the time beneath me
but time
however
is false truth
for
in which exists within
one's figurative vision of
reality
nothing is real
in a world where time exists
and clocks so fall so close
to the heart that beats
to the rhythm
of the one who made the world
made the people
made the clocks
tell time
can you here it?

What matters is today,
Yesterday's tomorrow.
It is not what comes of the future
Or what has come from the past,
But what will come of the moment.
It is the beauty in which the world offers
Here and Now,
This very day,
A gift.
There is nothing greater
Than today.
Never mind tomorrow,
Never mind yesterday,
What has been
Has been.
What will be
Will be.
What matters is today,
Yesterday's tomorrow.

i sleep through the sunrise often

it’s a regret i know i’ll think about
when i’m older, wiser, when i would rather be sitting than standing
on the edge of youth
and if the current carries me
to a moment where i can no longer see clearly
but still can feel
fully
i’ll stare outside the window to the world turned upside down
where skies are bluer than before, but faded
in such a way that memories feel too

i hope i learn a thing or two.. or three about
hundreds of people taking little parts of me
and my heart
to leave me holding onto the railing
so i don’t fall
when i’m weaker than i was
balancing on the edge of my youth

there's a slight difference between
jumping and falling

i still don't know which hurts more
you fall 7 times, and i was taught to stand up 8.
so on the count of nine, i'll jump

off the deep end
into the abyss
between the heartbreakers
and the heartbroken

like brown beer bottles
one in a million
swallowed by the sea
all but damaged through such treachery
turned to treasure

captured by the innocent hands
of little girls
who collect mason jars full of these broken
pieces of wave washed glass

i try to catch as many sunsets as i can
and i even chase them if they'd just slow down
just for a moment
so i can pause to think about how good it will feel to fall
without jumping

And Plato speaks so loud as to grasp the attention of the crowded room and begins to call attention to the meaning of the word,

love
so simple
the spelling of four letters
that flow so smoothly off the lips
soon to be cursed with the touch
the kiss
that numbs the being
of the half
that i am
and i question who it is i am when i am
with you
the pursuit of wholeness
Plato speaks to me
"he whom loves touches not walks in darkness"
for i think i see the light there in the eye
of you
the beholder
and so deep within i look
to see fire
only to watch trees burning all around me
as nature falls
i fall more in love with you
...so i think that i am...
that i can clearly see
a tree still stands there amidst the garden
where two lovers sit and speak of fascinations
machinations of the creature there does taint the taste..the lust..
for eros whispers in my ear to trust the words that Plato speaks to me
cheers to the lovers!
but what about the lost?
lost in love
for the subconscious
does not speak so loudly
to proclaim
the deepened truths
of love
what is
the meaning? The philosopher's tongue
a language
that makes us lose our very minds
because one half of the brain can not function without the other
like the heart does beat..one sound..and the other
in perfect harmony
together in symphony
the sound
where one can not be complete without the other
for love without the other is simply more than just a verb

and Plato raises his glass
for a toast..to
“Love
is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature."

Nature knows her ways
The ways of the world
In the palm of her hand
In which controls our being
The upmost existence of our own
And so we look to her
For inspiration
For answers
For hope
As we fear the worst
As we pray for the best
She carries the weight of the world

she sleeps
with nothing
to eat
to hold
to comfort
to love
to thank God for
to regret
she sleeps
alone
her family sleeps
unknown
she sleeps
she dreams

He took her hand
Grasped it firmly
The sun
She waved goodbye
As we danced among the stars
I often wondered why.

Why must I never know
The reasons to where and when
The answers to my questions,
Must they never end?

The moon he looked at me
Yet did not need to speak a word
The stars?
Oh they sang beautifully
Wanderlust
The only noises heard.

I could not bare to leave
A place that I had dreamed to know
The moon could sense my grief
And so he whispered soft and slow,

"My love,
The night is forever
It is now,
it is then
It is the time eternal,
it is the time transcend,
And this he told me so.
There is no real end."

a hit
of stimulation
where waves crash on the shore
a paradoxical vacation
music
opens the door

it took us to another world
a place so paraellel
that only music makers know
it's our story to tell
a universe where it is found-
the reason for it all
and so we hear
the music
and into the world we fall
all of the lights
they dance to what
we hear not in our heads
but there it lies deep in our soul
waves all but never dead
we live not in time and space
but in the moment now
and some might ask us questions
as to ponder how

for we're the music makers
it's you who must realize
that the place that calls your name
is where waves will never die

i confess to you,
my love,
what i have come to see
and truly see
of the world
because with you it's like a dream
a paradise
ecstasy
with you i know it must be true
that the universe met me
when i met you

i confess,
my love,
that i waste half my nights in agony
his arms can not allow me to fall
deep within
and dream
for you are my dream
because my heart longs for you
for your eyes
your lips
hand holding mine
i wish to see the world
with you

i confess,
my love,
that it makes sense
all of it
for you've come for me
so come with me
life for me
love for me
because everything happens for a reason
and my reason is you

i look to you
in times of struggle
of weakness
and despair
i loved you then
i love you now
i'll love you when and where

there comes a point of heartache
when everything seems right
it happens for a reason
even if its not in sight

the future is a mystery
and of this i've learned from you
for the years behind and those to come
it is you who i turn to

trains are often silent
i think about this,
as I keep walking from car to car
between the little doors
that serve as purpose of connection
to find an empty seat
that i do
until a girl does come along
to claim the bag in the seat there beside me
silence
in a space shared
where the scent of sour skittles
is my focus
as the mechanics of this machine
so connected
yet divided
and claims DaVinci
in this book I read
"the paradise of mathematics"
in which he found and made his own
a discovery worth the while

and so music breaks the silence
as i sit to contemplate the scenic route
all to myself
unable to avoid the mystery of thought
to my left
to stay?
i ponder where to after the destination
i do not desire
rather i sit
alongside my imagination
to picture the journey
rather
and i look out this window
to see them waving
to think if only i caught this image of paradise
as the train keeps on
i picture where it is
i am going

i'm so gone

may she always hear the waves
rock and roll her soul to sleep
as she dreams
of home so close
to the heart of one so rhythmic
may she always feel the warmth
of the sun
kissed by something so familiar
never let her go
but now shall set her free
#401 #904
-k.m

Outside she began to think...
Slowly consumed with a vivid wonder illuminating the depths within the soul
So came to be the external world-
The multitude of notions
And so it was unique in such a sense as to fear from the very reality of imagination.
Thinking to turn back to the place of where had figured she belonged. So came the path-
Present there before her.
So came the way of the less traveled. So came the road taken by the music maker .
And there she walked,
Acoustically chanted by beauty's own
Mystery.
Enigmatic.
And there she went
Feeling everything but lost.
She wandered.
Knowing nothing but knowing
It all.
For the mind leads her on a journey.
Where will it take her?
Outside we begin to think...

one day
time will tell the universe
and so the stars will listen too
and they will tell the world
as we look up in the darkest of skies
where the stars shine brightest
we will know

it's incredible,
the moment you feel completely who you are when you're with someone else. They way they make you forget about the rest of the world. Like nothing matters except right now because you've never felt more alive. And you love it because you know now that you're alive. It make take a while to realize it, but the feeling lets you know. and when you have that feeling, be ever so grateful for that moment. It's perfection in an instant and so it will stay with you forever.

the stars are projectors and we are merely figures
floating through sounds sent to us
by movie makers
dancing through space and time

the stage is set in space

we film now farthest from the sun and we wait
it's quieter here.
to dance without music is to pretend
to make believe
it has been quite some time since i'd last heard my favorite song
i am unsettled
as i should be in the role of the vagabond.
so i start to sing
and they tell me to continue on and the stars shine brighter.
blinding.
i see nothing. stunned.
i close my eyes
tears flooded with memories of a place where greens and blues
make me want to see
the world,

my world
i look to you
and i see it. i can hear it.

the music echoes throughout the system solar
vibrations sent through constellations
and the stars begin to shoot
the final scene

the beginning.

darkness.

The museum captures
still life
sculpted with slender ideology
masked by the movement of diamonds
neither the sun nor moon could shield her
from the nature of desire.
she moves in her                             own way.

Art eclectic like that of floating stairs...
b
  u
     o
        u
           a
              n
                 c
                    y
like her very own becoming
and circular patterns mimic
constant contemplation
of undoings.

She takes steps toward
a painting of her own.
An almost perfect frame, she sits
under the tree
to pray.
Sinking into a state of multitudes,
she buries her very own diamonds
in the heart
of the earth forever.

The
Secrets of her soul
Her heart told them to her mind
Her mind told them to her voice
As she whispered to the wind

The
Wind listened carefully
It heard all she had to say
Gone away with secrets
As the wind carried on

i wrote u a song
where the beat is like the heart
and the rhythm rolls like the waves
so listen close,
darling,
i sing to you

think of a place so dark
as to forget the look of light
where love is lacking
buried in the shadows
and so you're cold
as to shiver
from the fear
of a distant escape
tends escaping your very mind
loosing it
in an instant

until...

until a flower grows
the color of life
transparency no longer
hiding in the dark
a savior
for you're saved
by a beauty so natural
yet so powerful
and the earth warms the soul
once again

“Every time something bad happened, I would turn to poetry — it would give me calm,” said the poet, Sajid Bahar, 26, who lives in the city of Khost. “It’s been seven months that I can’t write. It no longer gives me calm. When I sit down to focus on one incident for a poem, 30 others flash through my head. My words do not have the strength for all of them.”

united we stand divided we fall

as he did in Afghanistan,

instead, leaves fall here
where the sun shines upon
the faces
of pennies
left there upon the ground
with these leaves -
like footsteps.
stained.

the wind
with words she carries
"i love yous" and "goodbyes"
it rains
but the earth does not shake
trees fall
lightning strikes
but the ground does not seem to move
when he falls
in Afghanistan,

there is silence
there is noise
there is beauty and
there is madness.

to rest in peace
is to be whole
with a heart that beats within the world
among the people

“In a different country, at least I can go up a mountain, sit by the water. At least my mind will be at ease.”

-The New York Times

from eden
not east, but west
where the sun did set
for the first time
a spark
of madness
ran wild through a garden
where skies tinted red their world below
shadows cast by flames
the first color to be read about in stories told
in the beginning
the sun did set
the color red unlike any other
started to fade
into the darkness where they ran
to discover the night

standing amongst the crowd
so often
so stuck
she dreams of the escape
away
and there she goes
with her roots she runs
alas
from those with which she has yet to grow
hollow in soul
she listens to her mother's song
psithurism  
enchanting in the essence
that fear exists solely in the mind
for the soul can conquer the thought
and so she runs
hear you me
down by the river
she pauses
and she can not hear the song any longer
silence surrounding
she follows the river flow
to the west
she walks now
and there is a sense of warmth
where the skies meet the waters
she rests
within this world of setting suns
idle in simplistic measures
of life
itself

Do they truly rest in peace? I wonder…
As i walk upon the lives once lived
now lost beyond this universal understanding
Nothing is truly set in stone
Besides the words in which I read-grave stares surround me-
emptiness
A name-I wonder...
their stories?
Their stories...
of love-of hate-
And there I look
Below me
Are the words in which i seek to read for myself
A box of emptiness yet full
Of notes
Dirtied by sublime-
From the underground

He speaks
To us-

My pocket Bible holds my window open,
For the mechanics of this hole in the wall do fail.
This hole in the wall.
...can a hole be square?
For corners sharp like a sliver of Manchego, and
You rip the skin from the tip of your ring finger there, and
Blood drips to trickle to stain the hole there in the wall, and
I wedge my pocket bible to create a centimeter of space, so
I can breathe
Now, and
I can think now
About the homily i heard last Sunday.
Love is patient, love is kind.
The fresh air is a blessing.
Crisp pages full of spirits.
What is a pocket Bible's destiny?
Or shall I write it on my own?

I'd like to write a song tonight and i'd love to learn some things before tomorrow. Waking up to the sound of birds who sing in spite of my own silence. However, what it is the birds don't know, out there, in that world beyond the window, is the volumes within this room. I'd like to play the guitar strings in tune with the beat of the instrument within my chest. Such treasure is a song that touches one's own heart. But how is it that mine hurts sometimes without even being touched? I think about the birds out there. It hurts to look into such darkness. Do their hearts contain such multitudes? Who am I kidding? Ridiculousness. Birds do not know the meaning of the word called multitudes. I'll probably never see the same bird twice which amazes me, but then again, I met a woman on the train yesterday and we talked for hours. The world moves and people move. I am moved by the hands of time. And with time, birds fly.

who needs angels anyway?

she asks aloud for all to hear
but no one
for she alone drifts amidst the waves
shipwrecked
tears roll into the waters
where her feelings drown
a sunken heart

i could use another cigarette

she says
reaching out her hand to grasp the
addiction
that haunts her when she sleeps
open eyes she looks above
as she floats
now among the starry night
tar beach dreams
a tortured heart beats
and she reaches out again
now grasped by the man
in the moon
once a believer but not now
no

not me

she speaks
to the angels
and wonders where they were
before she lost her faith

and the angels sing to her
the blues

and she finds herself again

I like those little rainbows on the pavement-
a prelude of some kind.
and its vibrance moves in its own way.

and I like to listen to dreams on repeat.
to focus on each verse
individually.
because I can almost hear the thunder
like the echo of the drum.

and it rains in my dreams because I
find comfort in the chaos.

to feel the sun at the same time
is something that I like-
to coexist
is a beautiful happening,
like a rainbow-
which I do not see as often as I would like-
even those little ones that I may walk upon.

and I like the poem
"nothing gold can stay"
because I like to believe in simple treasures

and to dream that there is magic
in this life
where someone
sees a rainbow every day.

you can never have too many flowers
and if not for simply love
perhaps for sympathy

i perceive unique perfections
in the fullness of bouquets
and the life they bring
to the rise of the morning
and then dim silence of the night

i admire the aesthetic that they grant
glass coffee tables
and island counter spaces
i enjoy the glimspe of colors
on city street corners
atop the bedside tables
of broken hearted girls
within the hands of lifetime lovers
and softly laid in remembrance
from the dirt in which they came

like we
alive in the spirit of gifting
our innate love to another

like flowers
to mean something to somebody

He sails himself across the seven seas
The ocean vast and deep of the unknown
A sonar ‘cross The Indian at ease
Until The Black consumes him all alone

Never too old to dream another dream
Awoken by The Caspian. It rains.
The Adriatic; lucid like his dreams
So clear inside the eye; a hurricane

The Persian’s waves tell him to say his prayers
Where Mediterranean songs do save
A man who feels a spark; as if a flare
A letter from The Red; a path now paved

The Seven Seas as deadly as The Sins
The Wonders of the world we’re living in

Misspelled and mispronounced
They (like i) have always wondered
Why?
A “K” and not a “C”
You see,
I have yet to meet a name; a person
Like mine; like me.

“Miss Karleigh”
Written on the envelopes,
The many Birthday cards sent,
I will save forever.
“Dear Karleigh,”
Addressed to me
From my teachers
Who have encouraged me to value
My perspective. My creativity. My self
less ways of living day to day.
To take notes of little things-
Like birthdays.
Of different people
Who see the difference in me
And my name

Seen by sailors passing by
my sonar,
“Karleigh Girl”
My grandfather named it after me,
The boat that sails, and now i sail it for myself
My dad, like his father
Finds comfort in the blues.

He would often forget the words
To the music
Spontaneously sung, and
The chorus would become a collage
Of B.B King lyrics; a song of myself...
Karleigh….Karleigh….Karleigh Girl,
A name with no meaning,
means so much to me.

Collided with the natural
Spelling of Nicole
Dreamt by my mother long ago; how
Ever, she did fail the victory
To the daughter of a sister who wrapped
The baby in blankets, of pink
Bouquets of roses
Given to her after the first dance recital.
She learned so step by step.
Nicole.

Karleigh
Dances to the beat of her own drum
Only the drum is not a drum at all,
But rather the sound of her heartbeat
Abnormal
A 3rd sound they discovered
And when it rains, it pours
And so she pours out her soul
Like a can of paint
To color the world.

Karleigh Nicole.
The N.
I isolate  
In signature
To show that there is meaning to the middle
Of my story
Symbolic letters
To name existence

Of a past life
Where italian spirits roam
The city of Napoli
Mainella
Pronounced with an emphasis on the
“I
Am still learning”
-Michelangelo
At age 87
Whose work i marvel at
The marble
As i walk the streets of Italy
With a name tag
That Maria made for me to wear
Over my heart.

She didn’t spell it right.
But that didn’t bother me.

She woke up to the whisper of the blues
“Come close and listen here.” It’s time to dance
She tries to count the stars up in the sky
One two three four five six - the girl is gone
She floats on to a place where love is light
In darkness where she feels at home so late
The clocks hold her within their own two hands
Only to let her fall back down to earth
A world that grows within her heart so full
With eyes so green the trees they start to dance
The leaves so free until she a leaf herself
A cold breeze blocks her vision all but clear
Enclosed inside a box of madness tears
Into the walls that isolate her soul


Tears now do flood this place - a world so dark
These holes where light does shine for her to see
Las luces lead her to escape outside
She draws herself a door to lock behind
That  place where silence is no song to sing
Maktub, she listens to a voice within
Her heart so full it grows a Sycamore
One two three four - words written by the hand
Where fate conspires in helping to achieve
The dream of Santiago’s journey now
Like him she walks the sands of time to find
A treasure where it’s love at last she walks
Across the paper pyramids she goes
Every blessing ignored becomes a curse