a single picture
surpasses endless babe
in bold strokes create

it was myself i
needed to get away from
not the element

rains fall gently deep
into the nighttime’s still air
cleansing the world all

broken pencils do write
snapped crayons still color

dried pens never talk
empty toners cartridges do not print

squeezed lemons reveal secrets
chalky chunks mark sidewalks green

introverts reserve their words
in volumes the quiet do speak

if a single stick is questioned
then all must be

undoing life’s belief system
undermining life's foundation

as each stick interlocks
with the next

affecting and infecting
each connected one

all must be undone
all must be rewoven

when i was young
of course i dreamed
dreamed of adventures
dreamed of excitement
what i would do
where i would go
once i grew up

upon the high seas
soaring among clouds
painting desert sands
living by a foggy fishing port

but from the outset
these wondrous dreams
where handicapped
born with a fatal flaw that was me
never would they come true
never to be followed
never fully committed to
never to see the light of day
they would simply die
as my childhood waned

dreams are stories we tell ourselves
dreams are dust in the winds
lost dreams
emerge as cherished memories
like warm july nights

i knew myself