Oh muse
Your callused hands sore
From endless fits of art
A Dragon and a Doe
Honey breath whispers
of a harmful conformist society
And the song that the old wrinkles sing
Your lions mane
fills me with cliche metaphors
My mind is put to rest from it's insistent battling
of passionate and lethargic thoughts
I wish to sing to you nostalgic childhood
watercolors
of gentle blue giants
Let's race together through the forest
And drink cold tea in the rain
I want to trace the runes on your translucent skin
But you don't deserve me
For I'm a petty mortal
In the presence of an Elvin Queen

I am at the curly wolfe
Looking at the spruce trees
Behind them lies an army
of
Stout Little Soldiers
Drinking Lemongrass Tea
With Raspberry Tarts
They yell and squeal and raise their hats
Armed with tiny toothpicks
For to them I am a great blue giant
Peering through the Spruce

nutemeg oil
drenches
An Index of Hexagrams
delicate as an fairy
her knife dances
  The Galaxy into Her Skin
sleeping on her
bed of bay leaves

Never Snort Whiskey
just to snort whiskey
Dip your toes
in buckets full of gin
I do apologize
My father likes sardines
and chamomile tea
He truly doesn't care
Shrooms. Acid. ****.
Either you die
Or you don't

Mia Mya oh sweet Mryia
Walking down the apple path
A gust of wind
And now she broke
Mia Mya oh please Mryia
Skipping to her mushroom house
A gust of wind
And now she's lost
Mia Mya oh no Mryia
Diving in the acid pool
A gust of wind
And now she's gone.

Dear Poeta,
I suppose I should be studying
But instead I write vain thoughts
Sweet Iambic pentameter
One-two-three-four-
rest
One-two-three-five-
rest
Iambic stress
   Iamb stressed

We all wish we were poets
Smouldering
Forgotten passions
With Deep
Intensity
Selfish wanderings of a restless soul
Cascading over the cricket shell
Empty yet humming
Delirious yet craving
Societys
Blessing