i have fallen
between the stumps of the mango trees
to me their
leaves have become my umbrella
i sleep surrounded by dark soils
a typical shade of my  mind
while watching each fruit bloom
green to a yellowish red
my skin starts to mold
its still a pretty site to have
seeing others shine
seeds of envy aren't planted in me anymore
cause i know
when their brown branches brake
from teach fruits  gluttony
i will have company
by gobbling up
there's plenty of space
between the stumps of the mango trees

masked
from the winters snow
surrounded by the color of cleanliness
never have we touched his thick coat
with mitten less hands
for we know how cold burns
i stride
wearing my printed smile
stainless steal
plastic shine
tasted less stale
when i was a  child
i used to play piano
giving mocking birds words of their own
so they too
will forever be free
like the ideas of a writer
racing through his pen
drawing out
my lovely mothers eyes
deepest blue
like the oceans blanket
always comfortably draping me
till she closed them shut
was the day i played broken keys
snow settles as the color white
only in my memories
hands became mitten less
for i
know how the cold burns

stubbed  knees
and school yard loyalty
when a cardboard box
was a castle, under trees
we played all day
till the stars sung our names
i looked  to you
through the cut out doors
traced in blue
you said we can run away

in suede suitcases
filled with  tubes
if you knew the game
why did you push those needles
through
i always could of loved
you more

but how did you run  alone
through our castle door
hopped those speeding trains
fled to abandoned planes
and you filled those strangers beds
just to feel that lift
i was  your younger self
i believed in nothing more

leave the artists
alone with their dreams
all those hurtful days
will become their masterpiece

but I'm  a single wing
a monarchs arm
that rests on the peek
of our castles farm
you left me alone out here
with big shoes to fill
wearing my daisy dress
bleached with our mothers tears

i always thought you had it good
you where the silhouette
of my shadows dream

but in the end
of  this threaded world
i sit on a bench
filled with city birds
and i look past  the cracks
of our castle doors
to see my loneliness
apart from your beaten war.

manufactured walls
Crafted  by power tripped minds
isolate  earthly gardens
any life to feel like an outsider
vehicles fit for five
clutter a neighborhoods gutter
yet  streets stay soundproof.
Its filled by the nights air
while i sit under freckled sky's
Gazing the Old stars
They consulates living proof
of how loneliness must be an illusion,
for we have more then enough hands to hold.
its a snake eyes roll
to keep warm without a friends smile
its a mine of fools gold
to bury all collected connections.
remedy your mistakes
by listening to the wise
presching under hair white as doves
they've felt the loud trembles of the earth.
But still i walk through beaten battlefields
some say angels help us fly
through double-decor destruction
i just think there's no where else to go.
do we just sit to watch all the colors, grooves and shapes collide?
constantly we   fight for a righteous breath
just to end up in the same place
We are awarded by victorious lies
but still i look upon all the trees
sprouting from the earths core
branches of solitude
idea-less leaves
and ask myself
how can the simplest thing
grant life to the dieing eyes.

Tossed my own good fortune
To a lady dressed in gems
She gave me a melody
Filling my heart again

I went to the park next spring
Found a boy in blue
He swore to his life  he'd have me
Days changed it's hue

I dance with him through the wet streets
Our Footsteps echoing out to the moon
We giggle in covers till sunrise
Raveling our manmade cocoon    

The World was spinning through axels
Ours never moved
We felt like a ship in a bottle
Silently , displayed in a child's room

I went to the park next spring
Found my boy in blue
The life he swore for me
Was given to someone new
  
I tossed my own good fortune
To a lady dressed in gems  
She tossed it back to me
Saying , "Alone. love will love again"

i  met a man who answer
"i dont know"
when watching rerun tapes
of his  love kissing under mistletoe
surrogate the times being drunk at home
petrified
as if he became a ghost
cause these days find us
when we track down truth
not the processed kind
capitalized behind a golden tooth
i mean the genuine taste of something real
Things untouched, kissed and sealed
oh in this world its too pure to find
one who holds such a beautiful mind
with schizophrenic intellect
words, colors and space combined
all would then been seen clearly
When i met
this man who answered
"i don't know"
He was suiting up for his daily show
staring at the screen
wishing it was real
pressing  play
whispering
"We meet again my needle  in a hey"
But as the tape rolls to an end
Reality never seems to bend
So instead of searching for somthing real
He waits till his love rewinds backwards on a  wheel.

Light shines off rivers flowing through,
every space I had
That was filled with you
Soft and simple crys make a stain,
Or find a dream.
If I was the one, maybe I could know the game
And the silence boils while the night is on fire.
I patiently wait like a bird on a wire.
our dreams are made of fear while sleep surrounds us.
Tunnels changing lanes
Summarize a kid’s pain inside a school bus.
Summer fall, October ends,
Shadows, odds and ends,
Winter won't pretend.
I know I'll see all again
The wind blows you over  me,
Catching teardrops in the leaves.
still every night I feel you breathe.
And the tension boils like sailors close to home,
Time is black, but you’ll want to be alone.
Fate does tempt itself a game of cat and mouse,
It soon will find us.
And anything we need,
God knows the devil could precede
In denying us.

they fall into slumbers
under mossy lumber
as we walk with the sun
when the moon bounces on hills
and the wheels slow down on mills
that's when they stretch their limbs
on cobble stone roads
and homes owned by groaning toads
they paint the fresh prints of tomorrows
so when we rise
in  misty morning tides
we will have a new place to go
but  who are these  things
the ones with paper mache'  wings
that glide for us in the night?
could they be malice
the one who pushes Alice
down into the wonderlands of our mind
or are they that saints
marching with golden shaded paints
to color our paths of divine
no one will know
for they mingle with just the crows
to us
they are simply the silent ones.

Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me dreams that will make me crawl
ones that hold all of  the night
one filled with delighten fright
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me your thoughts
Big or small
I want to dwell in dusted drawers
The ones that have been opened once, now no more
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Give me my lover whom stood by me so tall
Help me collect our ashes that flew
let us leave our rotten memories for the fresh morning dew
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Tell us your ways not to fall
Whisper the grooves on paths we must bend
Will our minds find galaxies we can comprehend?
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Can evil be a portrait for anyones hall
do we learn darkness by loosing the light
Or does it come from the lonesomes bitter fight?
Dreamer dreamer on the wall
Oh my dreamer are you there at all?

trees frowned on both sides of the waterway  
aimlessly i float with the river bends
drifting farther  from the name i owned yesterday
closer i am
to the red lands
leaving behind
the comfort of grass
replacing my scent with dry sand
a place for no buildings or cars
to the red lands
vaster then  forests and countrysides combine
where foot prints of exiles have been blown away
to the majestically terrible,heated winds.
i sing only
to the red lands
a place where i can put away my desires
and the constant searching for truth
for all that lies here are abstract dunes
and endless horizons
to the red lands
i come here to escape the history of man
let my loved ones find me if they can
they can not buy my respect with porcelain plates
to the red lands
i can run bare
screaming to nothing,
but leaving something in the air
i am free
i am dancing with reality
to the red lands

mornings ice
feels fresh
from nights grubby paws
walking through a place
where i don't feel lost
leaves sowed on humble branches
brushes through my hair
apples float
in the simplest form
we take our breaks
from the depth of others eyes
as they stare with pandemic ideas
so frightening
makes the ground swallow you past your knees
second breath you take
a sticky melody
collection of  black-lights
guides a taxidermist  towards your heart
only can you
write yourself out
with occult-ed stories
about space and time
but still its all hieroglyphics
to that diamond cut monster
  his  malice screams
make your ears reach for fairest of volumes
crawling for that exit
the one you painted as a child
scenery of  leaves
and apple trees
you shut your eyes
and all has stopped
your nerves start to float
your mind cradles sanity
but still that voice lingers
the voice of complexity

tell me my dear darkness
where does the light touch my eyes?
have the leaves fallen before you
leaving silence in my mind
i ask you with heated thunder
reading  riddles in the sky  
where did all my yellow dreams fly

you sang to me my darling
with words so healthy in each stride
stirring  up the  fog
with your  feathers smooth as tides
i hung for you on branches
while my leaves  grew crisp and dry
where did all my yellow dreams fly

i would questioned every wind
that stroked the ghost of our days
when we laid in yellow fields
our hair tangled together like hay
now i whisper to those fields
the ones that shimmered with us, like gold  
Where did all my  yellow dreams fly

i called you my lover
for that's what was said
you promised me no sunrise
could feel brighter then your light in my head  
but now we wait across lakes
till dawn kissed our eyes
i asked you my friend
where do all our yellow dreams fly