Before you thought,
There was no world,
no light,
no chaos,
no love,
no pain,
nothing.

When you were born,
a new universe.

When it rains outside,
and their choirs grow,
while the crickets sing high,
the frogs sing low.

But where do they go when they're tucked in there beds?
And what are the voices they hear in their heads?
How loud are the screams that shatter the dreams?
And the sighs and the moans of the life in between?

And who gives them warts on their necks and and their hands?
Whose legs do they eat?
Whose fate do they meet?
And which prince will they kiss just to make him their own?
And where do they go when their frogging is done?

If I were you my little friends,
I'd make this vow to make amends,
with the green blood splattered on the cold road side,
and the twitching arms trying to stay alive...

Because from the dark there are eyes that peer,
and amphibious ears that are longing to hear,
of a hardened tongue and a wicked stare,
and the crooked hands that will lay a snare,
for the one who owns that-
sorrowless,
merciless,
cruel,
in-compassionate glare:
will find his end on a gondola,
while the night creatures doom him
to Frogola.

lost in your ocean
and I don't want to find my way back to shore.

You consume me
-the sweetest thing
- life in a bottle
-the best wine to get drunk on drips from your lips
-I'm an addict.

I drank deep and saw terrifying visions
that stole my sleep
and dried out my appetite.

The room around me was on fire,
my ship was burning down,
no wind could save me now.

I found my salvation
on your soft bed
of crushed shells
and forgotten sand
in your deep big blue.

I died in your greatness,
I've been swallowed by this love.

A storm is brewing:
everything is grey.

My mind is grey.

Grey as the forgotten sun.
Grey as a peacock on a pencil sketch.
Grey as the rainbow that lost its gold.
Grey as age and regret and pain.
Grey as your kiss on another man's tongue.

We are all legends in our own sagas
-its in the masses that we are lost,
and the few that do have their names immortalized-
no one truly knows who they were.

Your words
lose their structure
of hard black on white deadness
and fly off the page
like arrows
piercing
with truth and intention
my target heart.

Its beautiful poison
quickly runs
through my veins
infecting me,
drugging my mind
with thoughts
not my own.

Aged,
riddled with sores,
confined to a wheel chair,
His head shaking uncontrollably
and drooling onto his napking,
he smiles.