I slept through all of my pretty dreams tonight.
And so naturally the only thing I was left with were the pretty blue morning sunrises.

Your candle smiles
bring me warmth through the rain
and calm                                 but I like
                                                            the
                                                                fall

Morning Mourning:

Sunsets sadden me
when they burn out
and concede the night
into morning darkness

The black wind howls louder always
under the star-struck landscape.

The heavens always seem closer under the softened
glow of the washed-out, black skies.

I sit on sidewalks and see more than mountaintop highways ever
could dream of.

Ice is just hardened water, frozen under the trepidation of winter. Springtime
romances soften it and shine it to new lights.

Die me a dreamy death.
For when beauty floats on the wind
And you notice the moments only fleeting

Sitting on slides in the sun are better together
It's raining splashy puddles around this, a lovely sit.
You don't lay in the grass often enough, my dear.

Turn the lights off and see through the darkness of the world. Those speckles of twinkle shining are proof that heaven's light is eternal.
Divinity lies in the Nature night-light spreading soft white glows.

Lively life jubilee, if only someday we'll be.

Die me a dreamy death because the water floats warmer leaves here.

water as calm as the night that consumes it.
a dock, to never land and away farther again.
wooden water bed atop singing-in-the-wind reeds.

there are family lights here.
near and dear, but pleasant on the pier.

the ducks sit like loon silhouettes on the water.
I found you by accident, but I think I'll stay awhile.
drizzle drops drip-drop-trickle around me, falling on a warm breeze.

bats fly in a sky, full of gray rain clouds.
perhaps they will war elsewhere tonight.

I sit on docks and enjoy night spring before the mosquito summer.
in this is a treed water cove.
the water is like glass ripples:
warm city lights wafting lazily on the water.

and noises of roads too far away to care about.

and I do look back as I leave for it is that I will return.
not soon enough will this place always be calling upon me.
I flee as rain floats on the wind.

with rain clouds crying, and fire trucks screaming, and the flashing lights breaking, midst the thunder booms and lightning flashes.
tomorrow comes crashing down.

good night to you, the still watery pond.

Written with the lovely Kyla

This grove of insanity, perhaps it is that you wish to get lucky?
We walk hand in hand. Luck, being so subjective we forget to define.
Ultimatums come hitherto, I'm afraid your luck has run dry.
I can't buy any more time to convince you or I that someday we may see eye to eye.
My, oh my, please don't cry.

Who's really winning when everyone's sinning?
Yet the world keeps on spinning amidst our wrecked hearts.

I crave the fire and yet don't like to get burned.
As we undress, we softly caress each our scars.
We avoid the pain by closing our eyes,
but it's something we both can't stop feeling.
And yet we continue invariably denying.

And the silence we share speaks more words than would be divulged had we done otherwise.

The words sent in secret go unnoticed by everything, but my heart has made it difficult to look in the mirror and see the beauty of anything we ever had.

Mirrors show nothing of the pain that pictures do, because then I have to see your shining face with your sparkling eyes, always your eyes.

But you never felt the tears that fell from them. We don't know the touch of each others pain.

Your pained words take on more than you are. And yet we find peace at lust's end. And it is with that end that we are no more.

We've known all along that all we have ever wanted to be is more than the silence that echos in the sliver of space left between our fast beating hearts. I could see it in your eyes when you forgot to guard the doors in.

And now my door opens to a new light.
Silence is golden, but what was once a sliver could become silver, oh so easily.

However lighthearted pennies are,
the trouble is not worth the pain.
She smiles quietly watching him walk away from penny lane.

When nothing became of you and I found myself sitting on a sidewalk covered in night.

And the clouds in the sky didn’t wish to stay long; they must have had some place to be.

And the few constellations I knew scorned me, for even they were ashamed.

The weather no longer wore socks, for a barefoot summer is always.

Fall was no Winter and Spring was not long in the making, and Summer is always too far away if never really here.

From sunset to sunrise, I realized it was all meaningless lies.
So now I live in the darkness, because untruths lie unseen.

I didn’t have reason to stay, so I left.

Goodbye, pretty pink sunrise.

The weather is too nice to cry.
So I smile instead.

Gentle giant clouds roll in from the sky, graying the darkening blues. They light up the night where there is fright, shining blasts of might light.

I need no night light.

The sky bleeds itself into blackness, the more violent the prettier we see it. But when you reflect this pain off of the lake it’s okay because it’s too beautiful to sneer.

And when the sky wakes up and dark blue mornings fight the night-black people wake up and cry.

When I’m with you the world shines a little brighter and the grass is a little greener, because ending songs were only our beginnings.

Forever will do, I guess

It used to be the sun would burn elsewhere and I would miss it. But that same sun will tumble back and warm me up again.

You would ignore me and I would ignore the pain that followed.

Your heart was in your hands and you were intertwined with emotion, and I made friends with stone, cold as it was that day.

You’re my temptress of forever, just hug me once and our let our goodbyes never end.

Picture moments are smile times I miss them, driftwood weighs me down but now that it’s broken i miss it.

Like the stars you tease me with your light but you’re out of reach, until you fell to earth on the day that makes the year even.
The sun’s warmth betrayed me that August day it reflected off your skin and confused me with forlorn beauty and greatness

In June, ‘round high noon, the cool lake that is more yours than mine, brought us together in tired smiles. I wake up and miss you.


I dream poetry dreams and you fall from the tangible trees and bring fire to rainbow waterfalls and they burn and ignite the sky into a sunset, because I always see you in the sunset.

Tadpoles are no frogs
But someday they will be
It is a leap-year after all

Icicles growing from the sky
The sky’s frozen tears fall on the wind
Silvery white trees, as omnipotent as ever

Blue sky rain sunshine warm winter
Life makes us whole

Breathtaking music mystical masterpieces
Hundreds captivated by your story.
You are life, as purely as can be expressed

Rosemary has never been so beautiful to me
Sometimes all I wish to do is be
Embraces that make your heart race

I connected the white light dots in the sky
And with fervor they pointed me North
Yearning for my Superior Star

Metal mountains guard my prize with his watchful eyes.

Please bring me to summer
A minuet to never end

It’s that first embrace that gets me every time
Every touch is a moment
And every moment is cherished
I write to content my heart

And you
Happy tears
And you too

Crisscrossing fingers and
Entwining hugs
“I’ll be looking for tomorrow on the loose”

How high is the moon?

Silence expends all possible thought of nameless emotion
Nighttime of soundless expression

Driftwood on beaches of shaded joy
Rocky outcrop escapes
Rivulet beauty we don’t see

Rock skip hip hop euphoria
Asunder Sauntering
When Eventually Someday Comes

The snow outside
My sparkling paradise
Evanescent dreams

When snowmen melt
And angels disappear
Spring blooms sunshine daisies
Let’s go smell the roses
Sit down and see-saw the morning glories arise

Summer blows in on the breeze
Running for your heart
I have green grass melancholy
Erring rain emanations:
Like a candle in the wind.

Someday Eventually Will When Only Loosely

of the wind that speaks multitudes
abounding creation that decries its mournful existence
fluidity of a falling leaf
dwelling of inhabited space
posterity of the pompous
calming blues describing the waters of high noon
reflecting on perspective
qualms of my imagination
nightingale flush
internal beauty of the highest decree
flaunting tact
simple pleasures of breathing
caress my hand, i’ll touch your hair
the blue of mine eyes shines unseen in the night
erstwhile noticed of syllabic manifestations
furtive felicity, comely for the homely
murmurs of softness
love is in the air


i spy, with my little eye, a pond, rotting with life.
a sea, devoid of meaning, as seas are
triangular pencils scratching away
out-dated calendars that hang on a peg

papers that bind us to our word
word that is bound to the papers
thought that is trapped in letters
letters formed into words
assembled into phrases
spoken from the mouth

bingo is the lingo

burning brightness of blithering baboons, begone.

smiling is more than showing teeth

gone are the days of yesterday, tomorrow is near, and yet, never here.
the present of what is that now was but is again

oh, do you ever wonder about the life of an italicized comma?

Rabbit tracks in the snow
padded foot, here we go:

Found beside a lake,
far away for you to seek.

Festivities of the fastidious,
i was all but oblivious.

Promising frostiness,
the air, alit and aglow.

Bombarding me
quietly
with parallelism,
banging noiselessly
off the fire
of the morning sunshine.

Mollified, the world
stirs in its lack of commotion.

Meek blunders of the fortnight,
i wish to forego.

My star,
faded from the sky.
You are
what brings me high.
I will
be with you,
upon
the epoch of
tomorrow’s
morn, come nigh.

The darkness of night consuming my body.
The elixir of morning keeping my mind awake.

Light or dark,
Cold or hot,
Busy or not,
Dreams do not embark.    
                                                                                                                                          
                             T                        I             R                                               G                                            
                                         W                                       L                        N
                                                                                                  I
                                            
                                                      Me        
                

                      S
                    D                                  &                             D
                   R                                                                       O
                 A                                                                           W
               W                                                                               N                                            
              P                                                                                     W
            U                                                                                          A
                                                                                                            R
                                                                                                               D
                                                                                                                   S
SIDEWAYS
                                                                &
                                                                                SDRAWKCAB

I dreamt of a notebook.
I crashed grandpa’s car and became a crook.
I fell for a girl who died.
I lost my mother’s pride.


I
         Have                                                                                                                                 Up.
                                F
                                   A                                                                                          Back      
                                      L                                                                       Me          
                                         L                                              T    
                                            E                                        F
                                              N                                  I          
                                                                So,          L

Orange is the meaning of life,
and that is why my favorite color is Green.

i get lost when Blue
becomes Black.

Yellow shows me the way, and
it is with Red that i have come to dread.

complications of Pink
confusions of Purple
oh, how they daze me in their swirl.

when the sky becomes Gray
showering the earth with White
i smile at winter’s bite.

You, girl, surely are no standard lip balm.

Uncapping joy – the end not often reached.

What that was said about kissing girls with cherry chaptstick:
It is surely truer than is a smile being contagious.

Yonder eyes, oh, my greatest of demise.

With you gone,
I am without life’s swan.

Of wavering size, warm, and safely claimed in my pocket.

Steadfast and moisturized, you bring life through the cold.

I have been branded, and rightfully so.

when life
calls to
be put
on paper

Powerful words to those benign

Of a silence that speaks loudly
Instead of ringing in your ears
It reverberates to the depths of your very self.

My slant, preserved in pixilated ink.

The sky is falling,
Someone must be bawling,
I am crawling.

Barefoot in the snow,
No more grass to mow,
I have places to go.

Joy for a boy is simply a ploy.
Coy, you wish to be my toy.

Growing older and growing up are two different ideas –
My snow angels are bigger now.

My day, perhaps insinuating of gray,
Winter woes: I must grow watchful of my toes.

My  mind, as barren as the rest of my kind.
Perhaps, then, I am blind.

High up, far away, a hint of what could be,
You are sought –
Come fly away with me.
The gloom of passion, I am smitten.
I seek light in the darkest of places.

The world is flat, as is my thoughts of it.
I bemuse even myself sometimes.
My growth, not always positive
in its negative aspects.
Life of the sequestered –
that shall surely not be me.

Without a care,
I stare.
No glare?
She is quite the mare.
What’s that she bares?
I wish to go to her lair.
To play with her hair.
We do all but sit in chairs
No air, I swear.
Between bravado and flair.  
Where, oh where?
I have but the simplest prayer.
Fare thee well; I snare.

To think we are living the history of our future –
how does today look years from now?

It is as they say:
Tomorrow is a new day
Yesterday has gone away
Today may show you the way.

Life’s joys:
with poise,
do handle the noise.

The question remains:
do we sleep away the nights of our mornings?

Sunshine of daytime no longer,
I seek you ever stronger.

The moon shines pale –
My thoughts run endlessly, to no avail.

Sleepless dreams meant to swoon,
Sunlight streaming from the moon.  

The trance of night, a daydream
Stargazing the lights of night.

The bright of night, surely should cause no fright.

aflame in its entirety, everything around me aglow
blinded by the light, i have lost my way
i lay cowering to these fiery embers
fearful of life-long scars

i have been consumed.
trapped, drowning in this hole of fire.

if calming was as simple as yawning
of this fire, that is spawning
only slowly is it dawning;
yet solely gnawing.

“everything is burning again”
indeed it surely is.

Complexion of free-flowing colors; multitudes one moment; shining formations the next.
Bright the sunlight of high-noon.
Water, how universally eclectic.

And it was thus,
on this laden breeze,
I was brought to the lightest of ease.


What need is there to seek,
When it is all prevalent, here, under the blue of this waterfall.
Streaming pristine mosaics of iridescent green.
Right here, I wish to lay in mirror-glass cure complexions.  

Mingling fingers among the pebbles, I marvel.
This quarry of my mind.
Nature at best and mostly green, I guess.

Of this I wish to bring to you,
Or you to it.
Whomever it is that you might be.

A land, however far away.
Happiness, the ultimate goal.

I surely need no intervention, for
The pathless trail lies clear, suitably
Ahead of me.  

Bringing power to those obscure;
The life of this beauty –
What isn’t there to love?

Oft is it compared, a sky of gray, and a day of drear.
It is with these muted colors that bring me the utmost of joys.
Perhaps it is your ashen qualities spawning somber, sullen feelings.
I repent, for this most assuredly won’t be made about you.
On the loose:

The life of a snowflake,
A wintered rain,
Frozen tentacles of a symmetrical dream,
Gone with the wind,
Heaven, fallen to earth.
Perhaps it is that I wish the sky to be falling
unto me
in a star-stricken
phantasy.

There it lay, abandoned for all to see.
In the dead of night, I have come to seek;
reveling in the unadorned beauty of
a little red wagon.

The gleam of the water reflected from the stifled red;
the splendor of the day, uniformly admired;
the brimming moon, spilling light unto us.
Amidst all, the sand, the shore, the path;
the little red wagon.

The beauty of simplicity,
all captured in the directness
of a wagon
perhaps forgotten.

The little red wagon,
glorious in nearly every which way.
Thank you for the splendor of night,
shining furtively upon your handle.
I shall now part ways.
For it is that I now see the many paths that yet
lie untrodden.
Floating midst the sea of sand and the stars of night was quite simply
a little red wagon.

The stark whiteness of the earth surprised me. The path, alluring; among the birches of the North.

I find myself lost in the frosty, crisp air. I see now; everything is so clear. What hints of love before, multiplied tenfold. This is how I want to live.

The life of the trails, shown only to those who use them. Walking amid the dormant trees of winter, I grow lost in the allurement of it all.

Traveling on the wind, joy is brought throughout. Amassed in piles, accumulated on evergreens, nestling its way on your path.

Winter has brought change to this world; no more are the commanding reds and oranges of fall; instead we face the brisk whiteness of felicity.

Ever does my mind lie resting, among the groves of birch-colored white. Yearning, for a solitude of a longed for companionship among the trees of the North.

Oh, how I have strayed away, old and gray, on the edge of my vision.
Seeping into my reptilian-brain, you are but the light everlasting.
Dear, sir, couldn’t you have recalled? The one with the pretty eyes of an ocean so blue; of the tirade of the torrent washing the wispiness of your face, in a gallant seascape.
Of the child who mourns for his dear mammy, crying on the floor. He is no more.
Generosity is quite the curiosity, that is, if you settle for mediocrity.
Heaven above! Almighty lord of our beings. Deign unto us the wisdom for a life of shining brilliance.

Perhaps, though, we have the answer already; in the hearts of our souls, the brain of our being, the epitome of our creation; what magic it is that stems the fire of spontaneity.
Lovestruck: dumbstruck more like it. You are but a haggard fool.
I have seen as the mocking bird has done wrongly. The world, upside down; growing in an acceptance of misfits. For they’re god’s creation as are you and I. Love them all I assuredly do, now, why don’t you?

Young, adolescent, children; immature with the years of their forced existence, tightened and controlled by those unseen. ‘tis the challenge. The solution? Perhaps undiscovered.
I have not seen the glory that is a tattered forearm. I have not seen the bane that has become falsified.
Oh, but surely do not forget, kind sir. You have pretty eyes.

Green, but an understatement.
Life, abundant.
The world, left behind.

Monochromatic beauty,
unsought, and yet, divine.

I grow lost in the unsightly.
Tempered into an earthen rage.

Barefoot to the world,
I come on the loose.

Hiding, in a meadow of green,
I chase the tails of nature.

Butterfly, oh butterfly,
why don’t you come be green with me.

The wind, of high noon,
swaying in an ever-persistent tune.

Winter-drawn ice,
Summer-bound freedom.

Years that have drawn us together;
the miles that separate;
the memories of our past,
distantly sweet, and yet,
not forgotten.

Summer joys, you were mine.
There we sat,
feet immersed in the rushing water;
time, as still, as the sun was hot.
Unknowing to all,
the moment was ours.

Have you gone away?
Have I?

Girl of wonder, and false success,
blunders and all, I digress.

You were to me,
like fire to a tree.

Your iniquity, but brief,
lit me afire.
It is here and now that I have left,
that good things will forthwith transpire.

Perplexed was the night that consumed me
Confusing as the sun, I surely wanted none.

Childhood innocence, if only we knew more.
Wandering the moments of life’s path.

Future-minded reminiscence, I wish to implore.
You were my waking dream.
And it was so, as night faded into morning,
so, too, was I.