I find everything absolutely breathtaking.

How can you not think your gorgeous yet,
Sparkling hazel nut eyes aren't the most,
Intriguing things?
They are breath taking and powerful,
enough to give me nervous
Butterflies!

You see the way the clouds capture the sun,
Making,
If only for a second,
The perfect bittersweet scene.
The suns final goodbye,
Makes,
A final goodbye makes a masterpiece,
That is impossible to recreate.

Exposed to the damp smell,
Of the rainy earth,
Or the tingling's pinpricks of snow flakes,
resting on your fare skin.

Your time,
Taken,
To get as close as you can,
To the galaxies that construct,
The roof above you to explore.

They are fascinating at night,
When each star becomes Luminous,
Against the Black of Night.

A quick storm it was
followed by these
inadequate words..
Thunder and bits of hail
splashes on roof and roadway..
Then soon enough
birds chirping celebrated
a welcome sunlight return..
Remembering the cast shadows
temporary covering of light
an appearance of separation..
Perhaps the birds recognized:
there was no absence
only this short
burst of sunlight...

Poor, poor angry soul.
What's the secret to your control?
Like Banner said staring blankly.
"There is no secret.... I'm always angry."

Angry about what the world has become.
Why society only favors some?
We are becoming a people without love.
Following the eagle instead of the dove.

Angry about the reason poverty thrives
Why the rich get richer like they're breaking out in hives?
Angry about our economy breaking down.
Doesn't matter who's fault it is...
White, Black, Yellow or Brown.

Angry about why people can't find a job.
Leaving them to beg, borrow, steal and rob.
I could go on and on just hope I'm not on my own.
But for now I'll leave well enough alone.

I love your faces I saw the many years
I drank your milk and filled my mouth
With your home talk, slept in your house
And was one of you.
          But a fire burns in my heart.
Under the ribs where pulses thud
And flitting between bones of skull
Is the push, the endless mysterious command,
          Saying:
"I leave you behind--
You for the little hills and the years all alike,
You with your patient cows and old houses
Protected from the rain,
I am going away and I never come back to you;
Crags and high rough places call me,
Great places of death
Where men go empty handed
And pass over smiling
To the star-drift on the horizon rim.
My last whisper shall be alone, unknown;
I shall go to the city and fight against it,
And make it give me passwords
Of luck and love, women worth dying for,
And money.
          I go where you wist not of
          Nor I nor any man nor woman.
          I only know I go to storms
          Grappling against things wet and naked."
There is no pity of it and no blame.
None of us is in the wrong.
After all it is only this:
          You for the little hills and I go away.

Like a Flake
Of Spring Snow
We Come
And Go

Doesn't matter
What you do
I promise to enlighten
You