Dreamer, it is time,
For you to draw your sword again.
Long enough has it rusted –
Laid unused –
As you slept in your prison of fear.
Wake up now! It is time for your dreams,
To come true.
Those walls are only as thick,
As you let them be;
They only hold strong,
As long as you fear them.
Now tell me you still have courage,
Tell me you still believe,
Because if you do,
Then tell me you won’t let yourself,
Suffer in here any longer;
You were not meant to die,
In this prison of fear.
So go! Break free! Fly!
Draw your sword and finally,
Leave those ***** walls behind...

...
Drew,
the ashtray is full again

1.)  As I write this to you now, the doves were bleeding diamonds
2.)  And to this very day, I still find your name is in every cigarette the ocean's ever smoked
3.)  I wonder if you remembered the time we realized that flowers preferred the taste of blood over water...
4.)  Or the time we sipped some of the moon's tea; and realized that our teacups were gifts from her lover, the sun
5.)  Distance isn't constant, it's overgrown like the lucid garden that I planted in honor of my wolf girl; yet you were the one who tended it with me as if it was your own
6.)  I know, I know; I didn't thank you enough for all those moments as you held me when time melted into puddles at my feet
7.)  I wrote God a simple letter, still haven't heard from him about how you're doing yet...
8.)  "Unfortunately, on some nights my grief tastes all too silver again"
9.)  You feared all the talents that flowered in the dark and I remember the second you realized I too, was one of them
10.)  Your voice shed sapphire fireworks in my room and what I wouldn't give to see that one more time
11.)  Sleepy roses dribbled down the walls of your hospital room whenever I visited and played with your hair
12.)  The milky way shed it's fickle skins-- and sometimes when the dawn's shoulders snap into place I can hear your laughter echoing along the ribs of the sky
13.)  Your name was a natural disaster born on my pink tongue and delivered by my quaking lips and I can feel the clouds turning in their sleep
14.)  I suppose that you were a cigarette yourself
15.)  And you knew I was the lighter, but you hung around anyways
16.)  Every time I see a shooting star, I'll know that it's you in heaven just throwing away your cigarette so you don't get caught...

I think you were my bad habit
...

Scarecrows dance in violet sun rays
in time best broken over my wrists

I steal magic from chalk bones on the sidewalk
and learn to read where children left their roots to become fossils

Clouds sinking into my skin as rainwater floods
my blood and turns my steady heart stream into livid rapids

Fate tapped on my window at 2a.m. last night
and informed me that I still am a poet and I still write to injure gods

Jealous frost infested the soil and trailed kisses of death on earth's cheek
but oh how pretty envy sparkles in hues of first light

But as I beckon stars to lean from their thrones in heaven,
I have realized that it's useless to continue watering a dead flower.

Bathed in silver, cracked in gold
love got into one of your stories again.
               ❝ i swear i didn't mean to be temporary ❞

Sangria flames and broken glass;
dry ashes mixed with lavender petals,
a phoenix beckoning the silk threads of night
                ❝ desolation took a bite from the moon ❞

You will become brittle dust to feed old books on shelves,
and I don't regret that I both poured
and drank
a cup of lust and sorrow, just for you
              ❝ do you still want to kiss the ink off my lips ❞

Tip the dish to catch the koi,
as you reincarnate once again;
mind those knives in the sink,
and please remember, that fire is impatient
               ❝as you succumb to me in all thousand lives. ❞

Being worthy for you
makes me only more worthless.

The morning was blue
And the world was endless,
The moon and skies watched from their fiery oblivion
And I sat on a porch drinking lemonade in the sun

The walls were blue
Claustrophobia and comfort
Tumbling into each other
Blurred and slurred
Forced serenity, forced to reminisce the sky
And fairy lights for stars in the dark


His eyes were blue
Filled with wonderlust and the heart beat of a hummingbirds wing
Ethereal sunlight hiding the smirk
Deception and beauty
Satisfied, spoiled and bored

The song was blue
A hopeful sadness too obscure for me to know
Marking the moment
Gathering the seconds among the staves

Those bluest of halcyon moments
Made up the darkest day
Whist the unsuspected turbulence
Lay offshore
As a storm at sea

The table was set.
The morning was fine.
The world lay reflected
in two glasses of wine.

An empty plate
reflected sunshine,
The morning compressed
in two glasses of wine.

What did she see
in undulations of wine?
Were the shapes a portent?
Was there a design?

Were the glasses a mirror
or shadowy sign?
Perhaps they were more
than just glasses of wine.

She and a friend
sat down to dine.
Their reflections drank deeply
from two glasses of wine.

“Up above my head
I hear music in the air
I really do believe
I really do believe
there's a Heaven somewhere”
--Rhiannon Giddens

“Is that all there is?”
--Peggy Lee*

An old philosopher told me this:

“About heaven.
Let’s say there’s more than one.
There’s the one where souls
are lurid with perfection,
piled into bliss,
dreaming of change.

“There’s the one people search for
to fit the story they tell themselves.
I looked for it.  I watched the sky.
I found only words.  Blue sky is
a blank page.  Clouds are garish metaphors.

“Then there’s one that follows you.
Don’t look for it. You can’t find it.
It’s not a place or a path.
It dances at the edge of things
like old photos or a young face
that lives remembered in its older one,
an eternal moment always at hand
trailing like a thought balloon,
a shadow cast by nothing,
forever unfolding, never now.”