She is a sweeper
She swept everything
Under the brown fuzzy rug
In her living room.

Old magazines
books
newspapers
Old photographs
records
love letters.

She swept them all
Under the brown fuzzy rug
In her living room.

One day
It turned into a hill.
All the things she swept
under the brown fuzzy rug
in her living room
turned into a hill.

But she didn't mind.
She kept sweeping
old friendships
romantic relationships
truth
lies
feelings
regrets
mistakes
apologies
forg­iveness
into the hill
under the brown fuzzy rug
in her living room.

The next day
The hill turned into a mountain
She didn't mind
And kept sweeping
Until it exploded

Broken hardwood floor
Burnt brown fuzzy rug
Everything scattered
In her living room.

She stood there
In the middle of the aftermath
Thinking
“Do i throw these all away?"

But she's a sweeper.
So she cleaned the mess
Swept everything back again
Under a new brown fuzzy rug
Laying on her basement floor.

Three ravens
perched on
a bare branch
above the creek
stare at him,
but say nothing.

An old man
shivering
in the cold,
with many
questions and
no answers,
stares back.

They sit like
mute black oracles.

The truth
of the world
cannot be spoken
by the world.

An old man,
shivering;
three ravens
perched on
a bare branch.

Nothing but this
can be known
for sure.
  - mce

I know you are a great poet
I know I know I know I know
I go look for the ones who didn't know it
I go I go I go I go

I see you can write in any form
I see I see I see I see
a form is a sight that's normal to the norm
I'm free I'm free I'm free I'm free

she loved to lay in her bed
she also loved eating
let's all pity her because she ate too much
the fat is giving her a beating

now she needs help just to bathe
she can't reach her *******
let's give her a government check
let's let her moochie moochie

nevermind the starving ones
they aren't worth our thinking
they don't bring any sponsors
like the ones we watch, unblinking

my walls
crumbling down
my reservations
fading
my guards
dismantling.

I can feel
my heart
my mind
my body
my soul
opening up
for you.

I ask myself whether
this is good or bad.

I feel terrified
I am terrified

Of what I feel
For you.

She wanted to swim
If only her crutches
Let her.

he tried all his life for the best credit rating
he died the day he reached his goal
there are no bill collectors in heaven waiting
they're all waiting down below

he arrived in hell and the devil was grinning
satan was smiling from ear to ear
"why did you take me, I was winning?"
"your credit is no good here"

Sleep, sleep, dream about his mother,
how surprised you have been when she proposed,
that we should visit
              and give it a try
         in fresh air, at semi-high mountains,
we can wash there the old soft blanket.

You're holding her in your arms
      and swing your memories.
              
The translucent sea
          water is curling waves kissing
             one tiny piece of our great mother's web.
                Earth has sandy plains
   We are shores of time awaiting
                   magnificent wave of fortunate

Fate.

White coral necklace on the bronze, beautiful shaded
delicate skin; breathing mild Mediterranean.

   Scents.

Fishermen have captured seabasses, seabrims
      gasping for air on the wooden deck of Aurora.
             Two kids are crashing the sea urchin's armor
   with a stone.
Shield.

This contrast transfixed his attention even more
      on the contour of her graceful figure
and ripe ***** waiting under her summer dress to ..
       He could not withdraw his gaze.

At that moment.

The urge of yearning attacked his intricate muscles
      belly was on fire and he knew at that precise moment
          his lips were destined to kiss this charming cusp, this 
ineffably bronze spot between her neck and a slick collarbone.

Someone is already stroking on strings
        The chords of cello have blended everything.
Even the
Bundle of hot dust.

Around.
You may view seagulls. Flutter.
         Their gaze, and the sun particles may have caressed you.
                                             
All in the highest promised secrecy of silent
                Transformation. From silence to melody.
From forms to underlaying space.
      Time.    

Guards and fights are between me and you. From teen. Age.
        Albeit ! Albeit! Murmuring sounds have just overlaped the sensible reason. My usual rhythm pounds with frenzy
I can not ignore. Her! Her!                                Her!


             Me!
I hide among the crickets.
Their song allures me attached to your scent.

Woman. Lemon trees flower.
Mandarins. Laurel. Olives.

I look up at the whitest cloud and in it's form
                          There's the image of us..