what is this light that I hold inside my hand,
this heat and softness on my toes inside the sand,
water rises up in a halo around my head,
the sand lifts me up like a comfy little bed,
I'm floating through the forest with a calmness in my mind,
the birds are chirping and they're following behind,
this light in my hand is getting ever brighter,
and this bed of sand is lifting me ever higher,
I enter a giant sphere of clouds floating in the sky,
there is no evil mist or shroud taking vision from my eye,
I take the deepest breath of purity in the air,
and I keep it in my heart with all the other beauty that is there,
the sand suddenly leaves from under me,
the water leaves it's place and creates a sea,
I'm terrified to be falling so furiously fast,
so I close my eyes and dream of things future, present, and past,
I open my eyes and I gently fall on the ground,
lying flat on my back, I get up and look around,
a field of beauty instead of an open sea,
only for a moment I wonder, how could this be?
I wonder why I've landed in such an interesting place as this,
there is something going on here but I don't know what it is,
this place is very strange and it grows stranger ever more,
and the beauty I keep inside my heart is no longer kept in store,
for all the beauty here cannot be held in one space,
because it is all our hearts that make up this special place,
so I hold my heart with this light held in my hand,
and I release it into this place, this beautiful, beautiful land

the wind moves the water,
the water does not resist,
the water continues to sleep,
the wind continues to persist,

the leaves hanging in the trees
can hold on no longer,
they fall into the wind
as the wind becomes stronger,

but the wind blows too hard,
and all earth becomes stone,
it freezes all the water
and all is left alone,

water is no longer gentle,
wind is no longer kind,
earth is no longer soft,
and all is left behind,

all has become pathetic,
life no longer exists,
only one thing is certain,
the wind still persists

Here I am once again lying in the ***** street,
Waiting for someone I know I may never meet,
Wasting my time with things like hope and belief,
Looking for a savior or a source of relief,
Walking with a shadow with a mind of its own,
Opening scars that have been many times re-sown,

My soul and my heart have left,
I can breathe in and out at best,
Defeat has been imprinted on my ugly face,
And I wear the crown of this dead and gone place,
My home has become the cold wind and the freezing rain,
My best friends have become the cold shoulder and constant pain,

This heart that I have lost has completely become my shame,
And all the while I count my loss I slowly forget my name,
You can speak to me upon the street and there is nothing I would do,
For if we really were to ever meet I would not remember you,
And all these faceless memories crawling in my skin,
Will soon totally consume me from within,
And air will cease to destroy all that I have in this earth,
And life will die and I will no longer let air cast its curse,

doubt bow
seduces
now
soul enchanted
weave  thou
dream  made
fold
fade
whisper evokes
heart bough
Inside lives
ancient stream
rushes quietly
fills the bridge
often ignored
often abhorred
fragile bloom
sterile pond.
Feel notion
dream catcher
motion
threshold pass
today tomorrow
illusion !

Darkness is my only vision
My inner sanctuary is full of mourning
Memories crying in the dark
Sobbing as they watch each other die
Widowed shadows of happiness fall to their knees
Weeping over their beloved murdered future
Sadness is unleashed from her prison in the dungeon of misery
The sword of sorrow is in the hands of uncertainty
My heart sits in sack cloth and ashes
Grieving the untimely death of love
Rigamortis sets in the bones of truth
Darkness is my only vision
My inner sanctuary is full of mourning
Memories crying in the dark

My wounded heart o' lacketh glee
Laughter torments tortured me
Once promised future now dost flee
Oh love I yearn to dwell with thee
Seeking refuge eternally

The air is orange...
smoke snakes down the Sierras.

He and the dog went up there.

A wind pours hot by my rough cheeks.
The sheep are running wild.

The sky turns a pale grey:
a soldiers color.

I will evaporate waiting here.

I hear the dog's faint bark
in crackling timber.

Promises no longer matter!

A rush of raging heat.
The dog drags to my feet.

Too late.

The faint cruel whimper
of impending death.

Eyes burn and tears
are dry.

Aurelia!
I hear him call my name.

Aurelia!
Even fireman die.

The Sierras burn on faster...
Some lonely night I will go and gather his bones.

Then, I will take him home.

Sometimes it doesn't matter who made the mess in your life, what plans the mess ruined and what dreams the mess killed.
It does not matter who dropped the bowl and caused it to break and spill all its contents all over the kitchen floor.
All that matters is the love and relationship remains. The bowl is your life, the break and the spill is the mess that others can sometimes facilitate-make happen easier in your life, the pain that they can cause you.  
All that matters is that in cleaning up the mess, you do it with love.
When the deepest pain is inflicted, clean up the kitchen floor together...in love. No blame, no fault, for it does not matter who dropped the bowl.

The Toves came by again last night
To rant and rave at me
But what they asked they had no right
As any fool could see

To rant and rave at me
Its pointless as I could not say
As any fool could see
And if I could I wouldn't anyway

Its pointless as I could not say
I do not talk with Toves
And if I could I wouldn't anyway
As everybody knows

I do not talk with Toves
They always treat me with contempt  
As everybody knows
They just came barging in my tent  

Demanding that I tell them things
But what they asked they had no right
Lording around as if they're kings
The Toves came by again last night

It's ok to be exhausted as you're speeding through the night
As you race along the freeway, it's alright to look a fright
No one there is going to blame you because they've all done it too
And they know just how you're feeling when there's nothing left to do
So just jot the thoughts down quickly, don't take time to find a rhyme
If it happens then it happens if it doesn't no one minds
Spit those thoughts out as you think them
It's the feelings that will count
    But remember no one's scoring you.
There's nothing you should flaunt.
As the darkness whizzes past you
and the cold air stings your face
Even though the pavement 's still hot down below...
and the fumes from the exhaust pipe might be seeping in someplace
You turn on the radio
                                 [even though you know] -
All you get is country music filled with static
and the crackle seems as much a part as song -
and the coffee 's black and burnt like it was brewed somewhere in hell
                                 [and that howling isn't from the radio]
We can't bother to keep rhythm we don't care about the rhyme
We don't really even ask ourselves if this word or that is fine
And maybe we're just sleeping as we drive along the road
or we might be only dreaming in our beds somewhere back home.
Can I hear a kitty purring or is that just the engine roar
and when does this journey finish - cause I don't want it any more
but I haven't reached the depot so I can't disembark my ride
so another cup of coffee and again I'm going to hide
But the few who really count are never fooled by that for long
They know where I am really when I'm weak and when I'm strong
And they help make life worth living, not that we really have a choice
But I'm glad I have someone with me even when I have no voice.

We are told that all of this,
All that was and is and will exist
Began with the speaking of a word
A simple set of sounds
                Hayah 'owr
Which echoed through the nothing
The first of every sound
Not a comment or an observation
But emphatically a command!
                   LIGHT!
We say, “Let there be -” but
That first sound gave no option
It was almost more implied
            EXIST LIGHT!
And light could do nothing else
And from that moment existence flowed

This is the power of words
This is the poet's craft
Do not use it lightly for
Words will not forgive
Their careless use

They stood before the mountains grew their roots
Before the sky had yet turned blue
Before the first thought could coalesce
Words were the first things to exist
And words will be the last.

So if we create laughter or tears
Provoke thoughts or plant fears
Capture an instant or tell a full life
Bring peace or stir up strife
To us falls the duty to use our word
Remembering its power
Choose carefully with which you gird
Yourself to write when comes that hour
And know that nothing stands
Against the power of *words.

Eternal tide
wild ride
waves
green leaves
roots
gathering...

Eternity
breathes
aeons release;

standing humble
present
stumble
wide wander
heart ponder
eyes See
antiquity
Beat

Time  marks
existing
limitless bidding
motionless notion
soul perceives
traceless place
never ending Grace
horizon-less pace
captures I
fading day
LIght

This cave is his.
His bag abandoned, his ****
Forgotten, ticket in hand.
His seated hunched form,
Surrounded by his
Burgundy fortress.

Enraptured. He gazes at it.
Nickel silver covers dreams as
Indiana Jones eggs him on.
Yet his equanimity surprises even
Himself. Motionless, he remains.
These dreams are for tomorrow.