in the face of the giant
sting like a wasp

when cornered by the mob
fight like a cat

under threat of the storm
lean into the wind

as the flood of life rages
float on a fast current

in the deafening silence
sing from your heart

on the brink of forever
be a part of the now

the hour is 3:59am
the sound of thunder is waking
a storm taps on glass
as if to say come here
don't miss it
i walk across the floor
and stand by a door to
admire the rain,
a semblance of hope
ripples in the expanse
hitting the ground
the far off cosmos are
hidden by downpours
designed in the vastness
living in the present,
a moment of calm
in the chaos
it's the best time to be alive

I am a limited edition,
a once in eternity
type of being.

I am a sparkling collection
of particles in procession
passing from one
generation to the next,
that will never have
this configuration again.

I am an eternal
space traveler
cause all that I was
came from the cosmos
and will go back there again.

My ego expansive,
and the void
that I dance in
is massive
and will make you
all the same as me in
the very end.

You were born
untethered from
the greed of men

who would
usurp all the good in
the land for their
great fortune

Let that agenda wane
into the wind
that you may be
human again

Evolve into
the quiet dance
for you are in
the company
of trees

return to your
birthright and love
what is good
and unhurried

red wine
stained our lips,
with clumsy hands
tracing moonlight
on your skin.
our love got sweeter
with each stolen kiss
and in those moments
i knew,
i would follow you
to any ruin.

Think not of 'heaven'
    be grateful with what you are given.

Indulge me  not with honey
such sweetness I can't bear
I would be truthfully happy
with a sprinkling of salt for us to share-

promises I would not demand
the silence of love I do prefer
beyond words our hearts should understand
let faith and constancy keep us ever together.

Simplify
      simplify
      simplify
      let the ego die.

What a weird world,
of purple hues,
and soft blues
that waver over
the rippling water
as I ponder
this world askew.

See the silver swirls
of salty friends
who fall in and swim
then leap out again.

Watch the madman
paint a trashcan,
making the canvass melt
with the insanity he felt
as all his pigments bleed
but never die;

Being more immortal than I
these thoughts fly,
then descend in
the brains of younger men,
till the poetry
comes flowing free,

and they bring the artistry
of madness
to another generation.