Don't let your lows
Define your heights
Keep your goals set
Firmly within your sight

Focus on yourself
What you want to achieve
You can bring about
Whatever you believe

Pick yourself up
Brush off the dust
You're almost there
Right on the cusp

Learn from the past
Rise up from the depths
Climb the stairway
Step by step

Like a Phoenix
Reborn from the ash
Ignite a new flame
Shine with a brilliant flash

I know in my heart
We're here to grow
Become like stars
Shine with a benevolent glow

Light up a life
Show love to someone
Keep in mind
It's a job never done

The more you shine
The brighter we get
Let happiness reign
Keep your torch lit

Life was
time served because
everyone he knew
was struggling
too make due
with the ignorance
their existence
had been imbued
with.

A state of jail like isolation
when he was facing
a stupid population
with no ability to
think or adapt to
new information.

Not a prisoner
in his mind
he would
summon her,
the dark beautiful
summer dancer,
an illusion
to calm the pain
and confusion.

In states
of sick delirium
his cage could not
define or confine him
as he flew to
a mental magisterium.

Lying therein sharing
a dream space
with his imaginary queen
he would listen to her sing
forgetting everything.

To bad and sad to say
that one cannot stay
in such elevated space
without losing touch with
the real world.
So, his mind lapsed
and passed the last
moments of his mentally
bruised and blistered existence,
finally happy in another reality.

It is a breath,
the cold grip
close to it
calling forth
those deathly lips,

stringent
reactions
out of the
desperate actions
made to escape
what waits
for my weary
body.

It is another
inhalation,
the light
high
fractional
exhilaration
of succeeding
in taking
the air
that I am needing
and feeding
my body,

while death
lurks
ever
omnipresent.

Trying something new,
I release
the tense beast
of burden
I was holding onto
as I exhale
and forgive myself.

Hope is the last lost lover,
a seed sinking in
the times we live in,

a once sparkling
body of bountiful water
where the seas bring
life overflowing.

Hope is the opposite
of the cryptic
countdown
passing present sorrows
in favor of
the savoring of love.

Hope is the face of
a departed friend,
even in knowing
we will not
see them again,
we still feel
the shimmering
in the distance
of their solar
compassion
remembered.

Hope is a tragedy
for its passing
and lacking
its lovely illumination,
the void of it
is devastation.

Hope is a prayer
in the name of love
for the betterment
of all of us,
till death takes
its final toll.

I got no swag,
just a split spine
that sits in a bag,
that I drag
everywhere
I go.

The bar is split in to two distinct moods.
One half is red bricks and well treated
water resistant wood
with soft lighting that aches for some
classical piano and violin instrumental.

The other half is a metal wall with
wonderful works of  
abstract art scattered on it,
small canvasses that explode in
strange color arrangements
perfect for the throaty blues muse
who pours her heart out
in a variety of well written tunes.

Lightly tanned hands
move in a slow dance
as long brown shimmering strands
are swung around to the sound
of the band’s soft collaborative movements.

Her fingers start snapping
while one entranced patron sits tapping
out similar rhythms.

An ear-piercing projection
of solid soulful vocalization
breaks the young man’s enchantment
as he is startled to the point of
almost falling out of his chair.

A couple of tunes later
she bends towards
more eclectic electric cords
blending in with
her family companions
as she finishes the night
with a sweet set of
awesome songs
the thinning crowd loves.

I want to be fit,
but ****
I love
chocolate.

I want to be ripped
but ****
that donut
is so delicious.

I want to be cut
but I love the
pizza hut.

I want to be ****
but the Chinese
buffet just gets me.

I want to be healthy
and if it wasn’t for
junk food
I would be.

I got the gym **** down
it is the food that hurts me.

Soft pink petals,
part unfolding
as the flower blooms
sweetly growing.

Arms around me
while I am moving
in a sloppy circle
cause we are two
who are grooving,
while her
soft flower arms
enfold me in their
springtime charms.

A tiny droplet
becomes percussion
as soft music moves us
to a percussive mood
in this wonderful interlude.

She clenches tighter
and I smile.
Her head rests
on my shoulder
and the world
gets less colder.

So, watch this weary
old romantic
start to tear up
as he imagines
a true love.

In the evening we are talking
while soft footprints
on the beach
finds us walking
sandals in hand
because we both
enjoy the feel of sand
on our bare feet.

In the morning
we wake together.
Her hazel eyes
and hair of fire,
her tender touch
does so inspire
that in this moment
I loose
a hundred pounds
of life’s abuses
and gain a shiny new
point of view.
  
I wake from wonder’s reverie
knowing this is but a fleeting dream
that will never be my reality.