You are the voice
Truth and beauty

When night takes over the sun
The light runs
Into the depths
Of your ever warming being

Laughter of the child
Embrace me in your heat
Wrap your joy around me
So I may be a guest

Read to me,
The history of your sensitivity
Baffled by your willingness
To put your self aside
Most the time
And bring the needs of others
To the front of the check out line
Leaving yours behind

You are gentle
As you are kind
Naïve,
you are not
Blind to the way out of the dense wood of your imagination and fears,
Sometimes.
But find a way out,
You must.
It is in the darkness of the wood
That your fire begins to dwindle
You are infinite warmth
And you are destined,
to grant it.
Above all,
You are destined
To find it.

You are the voice
Truth and beauty

When night takes over the sun
The light runs
Into the depths
Of your ever warming being

Laughter of the child
Embrace me in your heat
Wrap your joy around me
So I may be a guest

Read to me,
The history of your sensitivity
Baffled by your willingness
To put your self aside
Most the time
And bring the needs of others
To the front of the check out line
Leaving yours behind

You are gentle
As you are kind
Naïve,
you are not.
Blind to the way out of the dense wood of your imagination and fears,
Sometimes.
But find a way out,
You must.
It is in the darkness of the wood
That your fire begins to dwindle
You are infinite warmth
And you are destined,
to grant it.
Above all,
You are destined
To find it.

Caress the curvature,
and catacombs of your cranium.
As you sit back
and contemplate the complexities
of your mind.

Drift into a state of relaxation,
amongst the ebbing tides of a soft creation.
Below furrowed brows,
made famous by frustration,
into the depths of foggy thought,
I found my naval base.

An island,
transmitting infinite miscommunications.
Rhetorical bio-essence bounces off the constellations.
An angelic reverberation.

My mind begins to melt
Seeping into walls
Formed by divine hallucination

Exhausted by sheer elation.
Transfixed in a state of utter meditation

I do not believe,
that the solution to our problems
lies in the hands of our politicians.
I do not believe,
in the conviction of the world's religions.
Or those who preach of
Lucifer and Jehovah.
I do not believe,
in changing ourselves
to please those around us.
I do not believe,
in this world’s
so called "justice".
I don’t believe in these things because;

Society is a shifting tide,
government is corrupt,
religion is flawed
and people are fickle.

Privacy is long forgotten, buried beneath Capitol Hill
And peace is a flame, flickering in the winds of change.

There is also that
which I do not see.
Things that do not stand in front of me,
but in these things I still believe.

I believe in things we cannot touch
that others do not know,
that we may question and hypothesize,
but never doubt.

Things that make the branches grow
And form the winter snow

These beliefs aren’t good nor bad,
but they are mine to bear.
Because through my time, this is what I’ve seen,
and although that does not make them so,
my beliefs, will never cease to grow.

I carry it well
this weight of mine.
My boots dig in,
and I trudge forward,
as I travel through these endless plains of time.

Golden Roses, up to their necks in red
From the rays of, Mid-Day Sun.
as he sits,
laughing overhead.
They fall victim to my weight.

I yield,

to passing serpents, rattlers on their ends,
alone on a dusty trail.

I stop at a rock,
balanced upon another,
a perfect equilibrium.
Achieved in a state
of quintessential delirium.
I remove the pack from my back.
Ease these callused shoulders,

a dangerous embrace,
from this mid-day sun.
The heat becomes a temporary weight to carry on.
Carabineers gripping tight;
to things I’d rather leave behind.

Let them rest on the neighbor’s lawn,
forgotten cells, lying on the rocks of a riverbed.
Let them rot in the broken complex,
****** away in an indigo vortex.
Let them slip between the floorboards,
of a weathered porch.
Rage blind eyes make way for a deafening silence.
The time has come,
empty that pack
and carry on into the setting sun.

In the shriek of the night,
I found you.
Scarred and alone,
heaped in the corner,
left to your own devices.

Fend for yourself,
in the darkness of your solitude.

Can you see the footsteps that precede time,
tick-tocking
like grandfather's rocker
in the endless shadow that is your daydream?

Do you hear that ancient language,
that was burried in the ashes?

*I found it in the shriek of the night.
Flickering flame that dances in my skull.