I was on the gurney
Belching my guts out
After eating surf and turf
I'll fill you in
I had whooping cough
And a case of the Monday's
I had worn out and overstayed my welcome
My attempt to out eat the local human garbage disposal fell flat
Now they put water from a birdbath in my drip bag
I'll clue you in
All the energy I could muster up was used to say
"I'm off Wednesday, but it's Tuesday but it feels like Friday

I breathe on the Moon...
A star catches attention.
Is that you, Mother?

My girl is the softest planet
and I am unsure, but she says
the gaseous rings are clinging
tight to her knuckles and it is
after midnight when she finally
exhales and the room turns pink
and bright with starlight

On absent Tuesdays, and only those
of even number, we sit on docks
and watch the city float by
on cumulonimbus and pouring
and hail tie-dying the whites on our shirts
and blue eyes gray in stony reflection

Purple tangle watches, thorny stems
on a chase through the downtown streets
after falling for and off of you
under creaks of a lifting bridge

I watch you sleeping,
Impossibly long eyelashes, black as rooks
flutter against yesterday's sun blushed cheeks,
small digits twitching,
right thumb firmly in mouth
suckling salt soaked skin.

You are the sea my boy,
the earth, the moon and stars.

I sip at my coffee,
eyed by Spiderman
as the Joker grins
and the Riddler envies Dr Seuss.

This moment is perfection,
a little bit of calm
before the tornado hits
with the blue of your eyes.

Highland Nordic landscape
hands bound by twine
the smells of pine
wafting through the forest
the stranger awakes to their escorted fate
the judge, jury and executioner awaits
with bated breath and a heaving chest
behind the forever closed gates
just beyond the mist.

The Rebels want their Freedom
and the right to choose their destiny
The Empire want allegiance
and the spoils of war
to stroll their sequestered land
the suppression they hold unto thee

taken by force in an act of Union
intent on silencing the minority
but the quell of the rebel voice had failed
an unbridled passion and belief
that as natives they would never relinquish
not even under the purge of fire
nor the controls to decide
that resistance of existence is futile
in the face of a Colonial state
that all should bow and abide

emphatic on extending their reach
natives were but minions in their eyes
harvesting an ancient history
as you would brew heather mead
hounding the pilgrims of Talos
tending the ego's of the few over the many
laying claim to what lies beneath the sea
the fossil fuels they ache for
and on-demand that they have
the greatest need.

Dragon Slayer is in their midst
but they do not know that yet
not until this epic unfolds
like a warriors Tartan
laid out and stitched in war
the family crest emblazoned
hues of amber stained in years of fervor

the weight of the uninvited guest
who decided it was best
that they should take whatever they desired;
you land, your dreams, your women -
the nubile pale skin of a lovers breath
tarnished her name, pillaged her sanctuary
before you were able to take her hand
and under the arched stealth of moonlight
and under the eyes of your Gods
solemn oaths sworn and ritual pacts made
that they would never steal the memory
and that this would never fade.

Dragon Slayer would have you heed their name
in time to come when all must decide
make alliances of your own
or squander freedom in the name of history
let the past slip into the murky waters of shame
preserved in the wetland bogs to the west
till the soil broken by man's greed
to populate the last remains of nature
so that he may gorge his already fat belly
with the notion of carrying on his seed
in a world where more are alive today
than have ever been.

You decide:
what do your Elven ears hear
your Orcish eyes see
your Redguard heart feel
your Viking spirit wield
your Khajiit senses fear

the Argonian lizard
his forked tongue speaks in riddles
puzzles await
poisoned logic
and arcane magic
in a time before the world found its feet
when dragons ruled the skies
and breathed fire and ice

the artifacts of legend
lay hidden in the hall of stories
rewarding only the Dragon Slayer
with the wall of voices

will you accept the fate of history
or stand tall and embrace the change
will you go headlong into the cold night alone
whether you be the warrior or the mage
all that is yours by right to keep
your moment of glory awaits

the Greybeards will ask only this:
which destiny will you seek?

beyond the storms rising in the west
beyond the lonesome moon and her outstretched arms
beyond the fallen arms of grace

I will be there
waiting
for you

beyond the stardust trails of memory
beyond the aqua depths of sea crushed forms
beyond the hallowed shores of belonging

I will be there
waiting
for you

beyond the sheltered solace of reason
beyond the heart-bled felt sinew of time
beyond the crimson ashes of soft kisses

I will be there
waiting
for you

beyond the mist of winters stone cold breath
beyond the brittle forms of longing
beyond the brazen neon of midnight's gaze

I will be there
waiting
for you

Stormy weather is God's way of saying we could have done better
Or tried harder
The sound of breathing is just the rhythm
Undoing all the potential I used to have
I hide under my covers hoping that my fears
Are as afraid of the dark as I am
My smile is just the curve of the lies I tell myself
“Everything is going to be okay, one day.”
I might be sleeping two hours a day
And that’s a long time
To be with someone you don’t like and doesn’t like you back
Or maybe it’s because I’m scared of what my self-concise might tell me
In my dreams
The alarm clock that illuminates my room reminds me
I’m not on time for being myself.
I missed being who I wanted to be
A few years ago
And I haven’t caught up
It reminds me of how far I have to go and how little time I have left
Sometimes I have to let a tear fall, to remind myself
I’m alive
Every day I memorize my name
So it wouldn’t sound weird as I talk to myself in the mirror
I want my name to sound like something I can be proud of
We are our own heroes and until we realize our strength
We’ll bend at the knee to heed the directions of people
who know us less than we know ourselves
It seems impossible because when I cry I have to no idea why
When I laugh I don’t understand that
I’m the joke
Like a clown without makeup
Like the girl sitting in the back of class: self-conscious about her bad hair day
I love the mess because it’s how I really feel and at least
She’s brave enough to embrace it and face it.
I simply hide behind my shower curtain of indulgence and cowardice
Unfortunately, I’m not very fast and my problems are catching up
I’m throwing up my hands in shackles
Limiting my ability to wipe my tears
After 23 years I understand we’re all kids in adult clothing
Trying to fill our baggy pants with our own pride and big egos
We have neck ties of lies we tell others to fell a little bigger
Stripped down to loose shorts we con show the tattoos of humility
We weren’t ready to show
And unable to let go
Make it through the night and look outside
The sunrise is simply God’s interpretation of what our dreams may have looked like
He does it because we can’t remember the details

Love like the sun
Loves the earth
Ever since they met
They dance every day

The sun makes the earth
Look on the brighter side
The earth gives the sun
A reason to wake up

Love like the earth
Loves the sun
Because the earth isn’t distracted
By the stars and the moon