Rippling red fabric
Chuckling laughter escaping
Into the frigid night
Falling dancing music
Sweat dewing at the temple
Aching feet and bursting cheeks
A head running with butterflies
Sweet kisses and white lies
Strong arms carrying the momentum
Such lovely calluses wrapped around mine
The tap of dress shoes on the pavement
Ricocheting petals into the nightly abyss
Carrying me far, far away
With the sound of laughter
And sweet kisses in my head
Silence enveloping but the puff of breaths
And a tidal wave of serenity
And where words wrap one another
With that of spilling hearts
And two people living in memory
Into infinity

You have to get busy
Pick it up, pick it up
The entrails will follow you
Where the red unfurls
And feel the gentleness spiraling
Like a moon
You have to get busy
Either too busy dying
Or too busy remembering
All the unfurling flames
Wilting in a aching compartment
Specially left behind
In the wake of another night

I picture myself with an army
An army with strife and vigilance
An army crooked next to the snaking pearl shoreline
Filling the air shimmering with good vigor
I imagine an army bristle with accordance
When a dragon take its destructive toll
An army marching the vast grassy planes
An army with cook pits twinkling at night
As if gazing onto a heavenly hearth
I want to lead an army who wouldn't think twice
About letting down their swords when the
Fight needs not to die
An army of ordinary men
An ordinary tale
Marching when their need is high

An army of what?
An army of whom
Simply an army of ordinary minds
Simply an army of extraordinary minds

A croaking frog
Swirling grey smog
Taught air by brittle tempest
Breaching that which
Is called home
Moment of silence
Since departure of its wrath
A sudden flicker in consciousness
Glimpses such marvelous realms
I sat in aghast

Sometimes it builds
It all builds
Like the way the gutter groans
After the spilling downpour
Watch them fly
The wooden spoons and jesting ordeal
Endearing through the clash of sights
Wondering which side was light
Grass soaked in deep spilling night
Splattering gushes trickling in speech
At how the numbness has been breached
And it's time to break hell and teach

familiarity can scar
on the home stretch*
to the haven we all belong
look out, out over the canyon
look how far the horizon yawns
the quaking feet dawns
on the dusty prairies and glittering streams
trembling vocals resonating where
the soul roams

we all simply want to belong
to something more than
the fistful of strife
quaking within our
the quaking rivulets
which run up and down
the road we have
come from  

*and I am on my way