Twisting on a line of indecision
swept up in a breeze of emotion
little lilies dance
moving in swirling circles
like small yellow petal children.

Awaiting the winds lulls,
the breeze drops
their lover’s porcelain heart

They sink to sit and catch
the red glass figurine
saving it from the shattering
with their soft yellow bodies.

Little petals bruise themselves
to save the remnants
of the heart’s ability
to be open to the bounty
of future love.

You break me beautifully
split the fabricated flesh
that once felt like silk
under your soft fingers.

Your sorrow
speaks spells
of pain
into my being.

Worried heart
lead heavy
with a wooden levy
that is ready to break,
flood everywhere,
and take
all that you have.

Your anxiety
is a clouded
day dulled
by an ache
that takes
your breaths
and replaces them
with sobbing.

Heart throbbing
with insecurity
while I long
to leap in
like twenty-two
supermen
and save your days
with brave displays
of sincere caring.

Hundreds of miles,
too many moments away,
so I cannot rush
to your side,
hold you tight,
and envelope your pain
in my love,
smothering each stressful second
with the tenderest of affection.

All I have is my super ear
and powerful heart
to listen and hear
what you need to share
whilst whispering softly
“I am still here.”

Silver shade
bead wearing
barbie figure
mardi gra queen
makes me sing
all jazzy
till I am dizzy.

Short locks
smiling
flower wreath
falling down
around
and underneath
her feminine curves.

Two long drinks
sipped methodically
cause this is
definitely
serious business.

The music
bounces
as strangers
pass by
drunk and high.
She gives them
a predator smile.

A mysterious mask
holds back
the devilish
gleam
of dangerous things
because this woman
is the spider queen.

and if you are not careful
she will take a bite
out of you.

A soft song
distracts.

The window fogs,
as white lights
fall away
running fast
as can be
on into
a sea
of infinity.

She yawns,
then fingers
a circle
into the glass
trying to
make time pass,
make her hours
move faster
then those
minute *******
that just drag on.

Dullness settles in.
Her mind wanders
slipping beyond
normal constraints.

A pew, pew, pew
of imaginary lasers
escape her
small lips
as she races
to escape this
boring moment.

Little blue eyes close,
and all those stars above
move light years closer,
as she sits
in the cockpit
of a little weaponless
space junker.

Two bogeys,
circle her ship,
but she ducks
and twirls
through the gap,
allowing the blasts
to blow up
passing meteorites
which shred the
metal plating
and pulsating
engines of her
impatient pursuers.

Now she is free
to explore infinity
with her
Soft body settled
deeply into
the comfort
of the old couch.

Eyes still closed.
Her mom
comes home,
kisses her
brave space traveler
on the forehead,
then carries
the tired wayfarer
off to bed.
A space where
dreams take
the young explorer
farther into
the star sparkling unknown.

Metal spirits,
sparkling sprites,
the glowing fae
light up the night.

Dancing twinkles
of fireflies
and pixie dust,
collect in the throat
of those who
get to close to
these magical beings.

An elder treeant
with sturdy wood,
watches elves dance
cause those ears
wiggle real good.

Heavy dragons’ scales
unbalance all
as werewolves
jump from a cliff
to free fall,
and vampires
turn to smoke
and float
off.

Skin-walkers,
and zombie dudes
keep on migrating
out of our view
cause though they
like brains
they know humans
are far more dangerous
then their dwindling crews.

It isn't a monster mash
more like
a mythic
mix up,
that gets up
to whatever it wants
in the magical forest
that it haunts.

I use to play
slow soft songs
to fall asleep
because anxiety
wouldn't let me
rest peacefully.

But now I
don't need
the music to sleep.

I just roll in
coming back
after eight hours
of working,
an hour and a half
of working out,
and two hours
driving.

Eyes ready to
roll up and retreat
as my feet
lose
socks and
black work shoes.

Everything
weighing
heavily
cause I am
exhausted
from fighting
life’s and gravity.

So, I let
the rest
take me
in silence.

I tried to capture something,
a sliver of my silver
unconscious stream
that is always running
underneath
and gathering
observations,
then making
strange poetic
declarations.

The winter wood
is cold and wet
stacked in the back
waiting for the day
we need to burn it.

The bare branches
are heavy with
white outlines,
those cold snow
brushstrokes.

Smoke stacks
cough up that
fire and ash.

No birds or squirrels
for weeks on end,
and I haven't
seen a single friend
for a couple of weeks
maybe this weekend
I'll head in
to town
to touch base with
all those I miss.

For now
I stare out
at this
frozen wasteland
and wonder how man
ever managed to make it
during colonial winters.

There are sharp bits
of salted bitterness
bleeding,
knees scraped from
pleading
for someone to see
and believe
in the value
of what they’re are reading,
words which I wrote
with love,
the art I permitted
to be exhibited.

I want to be seen,
have my heart heard
in each word
I project,
open the wounds
I protect
and bleed art,
gift freely
that which
is the essence of me.

I know it is needy
to want to reach you
so, you can see me,

and here is
the Greek tragedy,
like Cassandra
the prophetess
I am doomed
to have no one
believe me.

Even though
I know
the value
of what I give freely
with love.

Every time, once in a while
I would think to myself,
oh how I wish I had never been born

yet then I'd find myself
thinking of the Labrinyth movie,
where Sarah had made
the same wish towards her baby brother,
and there followed a night
of when the Goblin King
took her brother away

and it was quite a journey
to bring the babe back,
from traps, thick stone walls, and timeless sunsets
within the maze
to the shimmering dance of the illusion
with the Goblin King himself
who seemed to make the world fall down
around Sarah's shoulders

if you could describe
the mingling of dazed wonderment
and the dizzying fear of consequences from
wrong choices made in the split second
it takes to wish
you were never born,

it would feel something like
wandering through a labyrinth, where nothing is normal
and everything eludes sense,
thriving on the split moments
of ignorance, anger, and sadness
that result from the world
and everyday deeds,
and the character of the person you are

no matter how tempting
or dazzling
the world full of shimmering illusions may be,
it is in the end, still
another bottomless dark hole
to spiral down into

I guess that's why
when things take a turn for the rough
in life
and I turn to wish that I had
never been born,
I always find myself
thinking of the Goblin King coming to
****** me away
to lead me into the world of
luring, beautifully twisted illusions
that drain the soul out of you when you've
had enough.