He saw starlight in her eyes.

All he had known prior was the anguish of isolation and loneliness. His youth was a constant gauntlet of rejection. A heavy heart beat in his chest pumping caustic fluid, scorning his mind. Flowing into his tear ducts, causing him to cry acidic tears. Leaving scars that penetrate like erosion in his flesh, deeper with each tear; carving his own paths of pain. Until…

He saw the sunshine in her smile.

Her name was…
Dream.

She was the hope he’d held, come to life. He gazed into her pupils, as though they were gateways to another dimension. A dimension where they two only existed. With galaxies in arms’ reach, on an island amidst a nebula. Her skin smooth, radiant as pure gold shimmering in the light of high noon. Her hair like fine silk flowing like a glorious cascade…

Her presence consoled him.

They met like two lovers destined for bliss, whose fate was inscribed in a timeless novel. He saw the part of him he had been missing when he saw her; and she saw the same in him.

And so their love began. A love so pure that they were cleansed of all mischief and vice. So rich that they would never lack any substance of holistic companionship and intimacy.

Or so they thought.

It all began when…

He saw starlight in her eyes.

No caption could ever capture,
The beauty you created before the perceived disaster.
Now it's almost 5 years since anybody's heard your laughter.  
You were a young grasshopper that quickly rose to a master.
Still you remain a light in the dark, helping us all write out our chapters.
We never met,
but in my heart you are a constant giver.
Your lifeflow inspired me to jump in the river.
A role model, whose human form I'll never get the chance to know.
Eye love you, thanks for teaching me to let go,
Amplifying my mind to grow,
So I could sail sky high from depths so low.
I'll still smile even though shadows have shadows.
One with the current with intent as my paddle.  
Fluid sees release from the chains,
that only were a strangle
You became lucid in the dream,
So fly free my angel.
R.EYE.P

Refreshed, I exist in this mindstate
With a new zest for a blank page
After walking out of hell's gate -
Never looking back
The vision that was fading to black
Quickly became engulfed by flames
Realizing my disposition to get on track
The angels whispered to me through music,
Again putting meaning behind the name.
Kept my fire indoors strumming guitar chords knowing someday soon it will rain.
The darkness and breaking through the shell is any plant's only chance of gain
Sifting through dirt and various sediment let's the entity rise up above the pain.
Seeing the light for the first time still vibrating with a single thought that only growth and connection is ingrained.

What borders your windowpanes were once trees
Releasing oxygen for us to breathe
They ask only for carbon dioxide when we exhale to feed
So enrich your red blood cells and release the chemical compound we don't even need

There is balance, within give and take
Work and break, earth and quake
Low pressure and high stakes
The cloudy skies and the shifty snakes
Accelerated pace and a soft pressure on the breaks
For we are all being guided.
With the wind We are reminded,
To see fullness and not let ourselves be mindless
The space within our atoms tells me we are timeless
Free from the measurements that could adequately define this.

You will find bliss
The flame is only your passion
I see dry leaves blowing down the street and I call it fall fashion
Mirrors inside every being around me
Taught me to see that only within was I clashin'
Now is the time to take this mental paint and create something everlasting

Sometimes I wonder if we are really all listening
Or just too distracted with the African diamonds glistening
Sold to you by Zales, yet every kiss begins with Kay.  
Fat and lazy fast food crazy
Chasing highs blinded thinking they really have it their way

The devices in our possession finally allow us to progress as one people.  We can connect with others oceans away and together rid the world of evil.  The destructive misuse of power is felt when we see the segregation.  Responsibility has been shed for more tax cuts, when some live unsure they will make it.  Fabricated stories facilitate war - on drugs, ideas, and our collective growth.  
So I must ask
When these tragedies happen, who actually benefits the most?  Making sure to add "terrorist acts" under a potential insurance claim just days before buildings imploded to dust rather than be eaten by flames, or severed with a plane.  The man who did this was named Larry Silverstein.  Interviews after he seemed cold, devoid of soul, and mean.  Arms dealers, oil companies, and bank executives, carry out these plots that are now repetitive.  Play with the heartstrings of one's own people, that think they can veil everything but I know we're not feeble, and in all these other places we're beginning to feel.
Cheney's Halliburton rebuilds nations after war decimates the ground.  Yes, let's let our pockets pay any amount, grind ourselves 45 hours a week so with our taxes they can play around.  Still staying stiff in the position promising your wishes will come true.  But again the scapegoat ***** your hope of political action bringing something new.  
While blowing ourselves away the frame becomes unglued.  This cancer is man made and he wants to redesign you. Analyzes with the force of a brute. Built tall walls with his flaws that only allows the seven deadly sins in.  Will he in his mind ever decide to see the sun again?  Can he really say that to himself he is a friend?  Meanwhile a governor of Flint, Michigan is okaying lead be let in to the water system, 9,000 now are poisoned.  We're talking families complete with children.  Speaking on topics like this, I do not have fun.  But the divine needs to shine wherever necessary.  If we don't speak now we could head into a reality that's only more scary.  No more families buried until they carry out their long lives.  I will honor Mother Nature and the life she provides.  As the Amazon depletes, the air needs more trees.  Less chemicals drifting into our systems as we eat and breathe.  Fearlessly pure we become free.  With eyes on the skies we leave our feet, articulated honest advancement.  Through conscious choice and proper management.  
No one owns you or where the lands currently sit, but you'll probably hear different from the government.  

We are all one, and life will go on.
Sun shines on our land every day at dawn
Balances created keep our hearts in motion
Close your eyes and see the focal point of your devotion.  Music gave me a way to see inside there lies the potion - to take my emotion and share the reflections to other oceans

I love my black cat,
for all his brokenness, his brain
damage, his tendency to
drool and
to fall off
things.  
I love him dearly,
in spite or perhaps because of
these various defects,
and he loves me back
with a fierce and simple purity
like only idiots can.

Still, I
sometimes wish
we could time travel together,
he and I,
and I could take him to Ancient Egypt
and show the Pharoah, the priests, the acolytes and the slavedrivers.
I'd show them my wonderful cat
with his wobbly eyes, his
flailing windmill limbs and
his perfect idiot love,
and I'd tell them all:
'This is your God.
Reevaluate.'

It's been a dark and ***** start to the year, and altogether
too many of my heroes are dead.
Too many of the old
villains too; those familiar monsters
are gone, replaced
by new and more appalling terrors,
as fear is rebranded for a freshly emergent demographic.
All the girls are much too young for me. Everyone
is too young for me.
When they speak, I hear
only static, like
the ghosts of extinct, pre-digital
TV screens haunting the
empty beauty of their
dead channel mouths.
In the supermarket, they've taken to
playing songs I like on their
in-store radio, wedged between
corporate jingles and adverts for
two-for-one offers on
hot dogs in jars, and I'm
so irrelevant I could cry.
I'm struggling with the world and my
own inability to find somewhere
I can be in it. I can't relax, can't
stop fighting against inertia, contentment
and any hope of peace. Maybe drugs
are the answer, but I think they'd just
make me forget the question.
I feel the cold, and I
want to sleep too much. I miss
my bad habits, but not enough
to relapse. I'm not
young enough or cute enough
to get away with
this much ******* angst.

If for a moment she could escape, she would.
Even if just for a few hours.
Lost in silence or lost in a crowd.

She chose to escape in him.
And had she known that was the most dangerous thing she could have done,
I believe she still would have done it all the same.

You do not understand,
I have never known love
I have had many lovers
But none of whom have loved me
Nor have I ever loved in return.

You do not understand
You puzzle me
With you, I am like a child learning to walk
Learning to speak
This is all a foreign language to me.

You do not understand
I am afraid.