How many times can't I escape the fall?
Or how many time shan't I?
because sometimes collapse is needed.
but judgement is hard(or easy)
BUT HOW MANY TIMES MUSTN'T I?
but i did
My judgement is off.
Because my falling has become a wicked hole
it's not black it's a blinding swirl of colours
separately gorgeous and together they rip from me the sense of beauty I had treasured now measured in seconds
that have been wasted
as I stand, one of the fallen

PERHAPS THAT WAS RIDICULOUS
i AM A hUMAN
i ENjOY hUMAN tHINGs
LIKE THE LEAVES IN FALL
AND I AM SAD
SO SAD
when I remember that not everyone's felt four seasons
but those reasons aren't enough

I WATCH CATS FALLING
DON'T YOU FEEL FREE TO KNOW
that when cats let go
there's no such thing as back drop

and I dream of falling in love
and out of love
whichever gives me wings
TO FIND SOMEPLACE NEW
WHERE I MIGHT CHOOSE TO FOLD MY WINGS
AND FALL

but I guess I'm already falling into old age
But WHY is that upsetting?
FIRST you must fall young

it's what I've learned from the trees - the only way to spread
without the feeling
of falling
to your death

P.S

I've never minded desperate falling, when arms shoot out to hit ground first
'cause when you're upside down
ITS CALLED SOARING

that's why I can't handle complaints on falling
dear goodness, pay attention

It's probably your calling.

Glorified pebbles
lie mingled
with tainted rocks
that met blood and flesh
of both tragedy
and a natural tide
that gilded the shore with starfish
and in the ghastly before
laced it with metal
stones
that were cloned and pressed into tubes
and riddled over
the worn shore beach
as the daylight aided
the mixture of
sweat
and
salt-water
before the now
when it gently warms
the arrival of those forgetting
and the ghosts of those remembered.

I've thoughts about the Swallows
and laments for my own
I've ears for tales
from sailor boys
who got to bring them home

The majesty of the thralling blue
entices me so vastly
but it's a land of sea I've never knew
Gaze o're the port
Await the crew
Pretend that ship come sailin' in
holds my own tattoos

But years ago I heard the news
of that return
that wasn't coming
The whales and waves
had 'come the graves
the Locker claimed
eight rocker'

But with my grief I felt not fear
though the depths
gulped my dear
And I've still the wish
of crossing tides
but by superstition
of the Hearty Folk
who prowl the shores
I shall abide!

And the legend uses the Swallow
one to depart
one on return
but I'd fall short
to qualify
for the journey coming home

With whopper tales I fell in love
That love took the rest
such is the Sea
I'll keep to the ground
easy to be found
though still dreamin' of
sailing free

But,

I.

can't.

ever.

simply put
my boys are dead
There's none to wait for me.

I've been distorted by a fleeting monster
that lingers wrapped between my legs
These sheets offer comfort at the slightest glance
But give them a thorough look
and you're entranced by the most disturbingly beautiful reflection
I can see
And what I see is the claws that rip into a face
I couldn't label as my own
Because from the sinking nails, all I feel is a gentle stroke

But the voices!
Assuredly are not mine-
I do not remember creating the sounds
So the dreams that speak
Must be only bed creaks
Forget that I'm lying on the ground

But frantic shivers have passed
I do not doubt my own mouth
Because the silence
cried out
"who's hurting me?"

but why should I answer
It's time to sleep
Pleasantly
with eyes shut tight
it blocks all sight
of the monster's creep

The pulsation of my heart as it flies across the keyboard
has broken the realm of reasonable
and the verdict for this insanity
is a rung bell
Let the open-ended battle
rake in my oppression until I'm begging
but my blood pumping-now gushing shall bring about
the enlightenment:
only the strongest survive the lies, and the cries
only add to their excitement

I've situated swell here, wrought wells near of a fear so ghastly
there's more salt than water
and somehow it's hotter than the older stories
of Hell in it's glories
with rivers for sinkers
run red from the clinkers
The fragile burn in my vile.

Then one little girl
up-heaved my determination
with a situation that left me speechless
An ice ripped my fire with the touch of those fingers
and hand in hand I watched her stand
and I couldn't see through
that colour blue
unknown to me
was the land of sea

I stayed there blind, unaware of wickedness
let alone the wrongs of my own
But she, in wiser, stood up to the ignorance
and bravely took an oath

"I am the strongest
You are the weakest
But I will save us both"

Your thoughts circle round my head,instead of the words heard,there's an
incredible song that soothes as I tread the waves of my mind
I'm in kind with my dreams,seems that streams of comfort nestle
me safe from dread at the thought that I ought
to've brought you with me
but lately,
the safety of your arms,when i can't hear you speak doesn't wreak
as much havoc as before,cause the core,you're being
I've been seeing in my thoughts,my seams-you've broken in between,
because in the lack of noise, your voice, rings out, o're the others
and before they infect,you're yelling
in the silence:
I'm here to protect.

I can break it down -
from paranormal
to spectral
because in ghosts
there lingers the attachment
of a life-timed
unfortunate, coincidental
contact
betwixt those two girls
who read each other
like a book
in my Grade 12 English classroom

strangers
with a connected tension
cut in half -
now the remnants of one
haunts the other
because of a lost goodbye
that licks her in her sleep
creating a wet surface
waiting for tears
but she's not yet torn
she's stuck in two
with dry eyes
and Gabrielle pleads "let me free"
but there's no sound
in the nighttime quiet
and Cassie is soothed
by the silence