Nonsense hiding in an autobiography,
Starting down dusty roads,
Where you truly found yourself,
Daring the mountains and questioning the cold,
To high rises with coke that guy you didn’t know too well brought,
She was there naked and gleaming,
Maybe she had od’d but ****,
She’s great at acting,
Just ask her mom,
You saw her face before,
In flashes of hot breath playing against,
Folk songs and guitars in a punk bathroom,
You didn’t know the faces then,
But you will,
Trust me,
You will,
Weren’t you there at the great protests,
Arm bands and water riots?
You saw what they saw,
But really,
“it’s poetry, not an autobiography”
Spelling errors speak to those who are deaf,
And you say it like it’s fact,
What else do you got?
You remember staring down a gun,
That didn’t belong to you,
In fact it wasn’t aimed at you,
It was aimed at them and all you could do was shake,
But the shakes don’t change when you,
Wake up the same,
You cant shake you,
You told me that while we layed in the sun,
Pointing out constellations,
I said,
It’s morning,
Why talk?
All I heard was a sigh,
But through the onomatopoeias,
I heard things like,
You cant see the stars but the sun still shines,
Whatever that means,
the rest of the day didn’t matter,
and you traveled again,
where’d you go now?
Maybe your letter will help,
Or maybe the call you sent is the way you,
Tried to send a pick-me-up,
Or maybe it’s just *******,
Either way,
Yea,
Either way,
We’ll answer.

I remain here, seated
but really I am somewhere
far away.
There is wind caressing
my hair, teasing my
sun-kissed, blushing face
while soft mounds
of earthen, rich soil
tread beneath the
soles of my
soft feet.
Vivid, rising green
valleys lying in
the west, and forests
of thick, chestnut
oak trees in the east,
while in front of me,  
cascades fields of
sunflowers, white lilies,
blossoming, silky
lavenders, gardenias,
and soft petaled roses.
In the horizon,
a magnificent sunset
graces a clear blue
sky, with shades
of draping tendrils
of lush reds, oranges,
purples, tainting
plump, white clouds
and coloring
the tops of
graceful, willow trees.

Blue jeans and lipstick
she awaits her beloved  -
sirens in distance







- fr

Dark clouds at night a
flash of lightning appears and
reveals heaven's stair