How is it that the body can be so sure of what to do
When the mind is clueless?
The blood in my veins returns to my heart,
I kiss you automatically,
Yet I am still so unsure.

I've never been one for clear cut precision,
In the making of decisions,
And now, more than ever, I doubt myself.

They tell me I'm not making sense,
That my thoughts are muddled,
That I am not making sensible decisions.
But, was it not those same sensible decisions
That have led me to where I now am?

I tell you assuredly, it was.

Though my mind is muddled,
My heart keeps pumping,
It is truly a wonder of engineering,
Effective machinery
With no use of an operator.

I will sit here for hours
Willing it to stop,
And it will pay me no heed.

Man
Is the tree,

That bares no fruit
Nor flower,
Leaf
Or heart.

But has those so destructive roots
That rip
This world
Apart.
Elisabeth Pfeffer

once i read that when it rains, the angels are crying.
why doesn't it rain when i cry
i'd hug you when you're sad
i'd yell at that boy who hurt you
even though i'm afraid of confrontation

once i talked to a boy for you
i was scared out of my mind
i wanted to run away and never come back
i still don't know where that courage came from
maybe it was you

you're my best friend
you taught me to fight dragons
jump into the ocean
talk to strangers
leap at the stars and grab them with both hands

without you
my dragons would have burnt me to death
i would have drowned in my ocean
my strangers would have never heard my voice trembling and shaking from fear
so much fear
without you
i wouldn't know what stars looked like up close

so maybe when it rains, you're the one crying
because you're my angel

This man was a lonely man
Never left the world that was his
This world was small yet spacious
For he only needed enough room for himself
And it only needed enough room for him
This man often visited our world
Yet he never left his own
Wandered in and out like a lost child
Called everywhere and nowhere his home
He was tall and plain and smelled of pine
His hat worn from where he held it in his hand
He never spoke, never said a word
He walked throughout our world, unseen
But always present in his, yet never fully there
The only thing that spoke were his eyes
And they themselves told all there was to tell

As I see the snow is melting,
As I hear the Robin sing,
As I touch the dry, warm grass,
As I feel the gentle breeze,
I know Spring is coming....

As I climb the green, budding tree,
As I feel the cool, soft rain
As I smell the fresh, damp earth,
As I taste the sweet fiddle heads,
I know Spring is coming....

Rays of light filter through the window
Creating ribbons of dust motes in the air
Slowly drifting and gently flowing
The sunlight spills onto the old carpet
Where I lay, sprawled in the warmth
My hair spread as if floating in water
My armed out stretched at my sides

Thinking

And I saw spectres sway
in smoke and smog,
hazy gray, secretive fog.

And from the wings
of the checkerboard dance floor,
I stood, saw and adored.

And in fine finesse, finish and form,
you tore me up from the dance floor depth
and whispered odes I shall never forget.

*And what fools we were for not saying yes.
I am sorry.