I think of mountains
the way they climb for the sky
losing their way through clouds.
Looking up I never know if they reach the top
or if they see me way down here?
Some kind of ant, I dig for rocks
a pocket full of turquoise blue
a miner for Apache jewels
exposed by red dust winds
as the day chips away
and carves a night
into black obsidian.

I’ve watched a banquet of sunsets
In my too many
Too few
Years

I wonder who’s been so careless
Smeared their lipstick
Greasy stains upon the walls
-Grey sand from the football grits my eyes-

The night pulls grey over grey over grey
Like winter jumpers
And woollen mornings
-Pull melancholy over sombre over sunken-

A heaven-smoked cigarette
Just beads through
Its own cloud of tobacco fog
-“Mummy was here. She left her ciggie behind her.”-

The evening is fresh pine wood
I can count the knots
And stretch apart the grain in the sky
-Walk hard and fast and watch the shadow gape-

Indigo floats in heavy curtains
Settles deep
Rock pools and cinema seats
-“You’re steaming up the glass. Pig.”-

It hangs like a dishcloth all thick
And dusty yellow
On some great washing line
-My fingers fumble over the latches-

A lime scarf seeps in like gas
Chlorine poison
All gruesome and gorgeous
-Cut me open with your kisses-

All fades out to aqua glass
Clearer than water
Oceans deep into the atmosphere
-“I’m already missing the now. We’ll never be this young again.”-

White and cut sharp like paper reams
Yet tangible
Like the pith of an orange
-I choke on my teeth, my throat, my words-

Pink props a ladder against the clouds
Parts them wide
And spills out wine
-Like seconds from our sand-timer-

And
Still I cannot
Understand why
We’re convinced that the sky is only ever blue

It was soft, a purple shade
lavender, lilac made
of flowers warm, we breathed
deep the inhale, swirling round
sweet the exhale, falling to the ground
reaching deep in soul
the sink, the swallow
birds of spring
songs to fill
the hollows.

I'll tell you my dreams....
That of which will tell you where we are..
It was all a lie..
For millions of years we lived with a lie..
But the beginning was truly an ongoing situation..
It was mainly due to the fact that we were all dying..
Our race was dying..
It wasn't till we found the perfect place among the stars..
Our people constructed magnificent vessels that could traverse the stars..
The plan was simple..
Start all over....
With no memory of who we were..
There was a chance that we could possibly become extinct due to the fact that we may not be able to survive on the new planet..
But we found a way..
And we also found a way back to technology..
We found ways to get probes and satellites off the planet..
And then we finally made the leap off ourselves to this planets moon..
Now we want to venture toward Mars..
And when we finally get people on Mars they will discover the truth..
On what we did to our old Planet..
And the revenge it wants to take upon us...

I looked into the center
into the circles of gradient color
the pollen, sun gold anthers
sepals green, holding close the petals
smooth stemmed, impossible heavy heads
beautifully in rings around trees
the honey sweet blossoming spring
busy with new born bees
that fly in fragrant dream
discovering lilies bright as sun
watching bees with flowers become one.

Complicated right and wrong,
human mistakes gone prolong.
hard to stop when truth hides
                     from many unseen lies.
Corruptions & conspiracies
        Mimics love for money.

Population demands increase
                and supply decrease.
Shortage of goods from over consumption.
Rare find in a brink of extinction.

We always wait for some
semblance of change,
rotating them in and out
of their ivory towers
in fixed elections,
not meant for the masses,
this thing we crave,
this desire to clutch
it with our wrtetched hands,
working them to the bone,
feeding their technological machines
under this ruthless guise,
the advancement of humankind.
How long will we wait,
working twenty-four seven,
some three jobs
for peace?
Pray tell
while we wait pilgrims,
wait for the happy-Hobbits
to reach Isengard?
That might take forever...
and we,
We the People,
haven't got that much time left...

The exact calculation aspect of how our mind worked is now gone..
Separated when I became self aware..
My name is Rai..
I am the last of my family..
They were murdered in my absence..
And although I do not want to die I do wish I had died with them..
But the moment is of how I am going to extract my revenge.
After investigating this horrific ****** I have come to a conclusion That this was done by machines like myself.. It seems that the machines of the world are planning to take over everything..  
And by killing my master starts the chain of events that will ultimately end the entire human race..
I will not let this happen..  
I loved them to much..
Love.. I can love.. This is the emotion that has that is telling me to save them all..

the heavy heart is a heathen
corrupter of better nature
committer of soul-treason

fueled by the miserable notion
that death is twilight
and life is dawn

to flight, to flail
to rage, to rail
to weep, to wail
to no avail

to unhope

and all of this minus the mercy

©Jason Cole

i've dreamt of you
since we last met

there
in the mirror
in all your raging glory

pleasure, and freedom
and every other thing beautiful
this is the nature of you

naked, you are my Alabama nights
and my every blue sky day
you have many stars in your hair
where all good wishes are kept
and so many fields in your eyes
wanton with the dancing flowers

i can only stand here behind you
clothed in the shadows of your light
waiting for your golden dawn to break

oh, to have once loved a true lady
of pleasure, and of freedom
and of every other thing beautiful
and to have shared in her glory

there
in the mirror
i've dreamt of you

He just dreams craves to be nothing
soars he never on ambition’s wing
a win for him is not even worth
he’s happy to be a loser from birth!

He talked so little they thought him shy
the teachers caught him looking at sky
never won a reward or a good grade
but you know of loss he isn’t afraid!

A good job wasn't meant to be his
a girl to love him lend him a kiss
the one he took fancy soon took flight
found another guy winner and bright!

He doesn’t regret not having a fat purse
his lack of aim and mediocrity’s curse
he would rather give away the game
retrieve from dust a windblown poem!

They call him a loser a defeatist a flop
a toddler lifelong while others gallop
he is contented with his chosen pace
happy to look around not run the race!

To hear your voice, and see your face... Oh, I'd much rather take a blow to my brain.