Oh, the big whole life
That fills all mystery
And makes everything so small....

She stares out a window
At the center of her world,
A sorrow
Like a dark magnolia
Which changes when touched.

She had a wall around her
Until the day she let's it go,
A turbulent dream that keeps her
Awake, to guard herself from
Everybody else.

Oh, her she is a dove,
A tranquility she knows nothing
About,
He told her she was beautiful
Holding  his breath when he said it.
And the fragile destiny
Can be seen in her absence,
Her voice is darkened
And was gentle like air,
But the night is now born
Under her eyes,
The light escapes her as she
Walks with eyes to the earth,
She can't feel a thing
Because the pain numbs her,
Familiar to her like family now,
The razor is a new friend.
She cuts the life I to her,
Along with the jelly beans she grew
Up loving,
The blood runs down her thigh
And the flavor
Melts into her mouth.

Why is this normal for her?
She asks herself with a half smile,
The landscape of her life
Is a dream trying to feel
Anything.

I know her innocence
Has more than this razor,
And all her heart is stuck
In a painful fragility,
Touching what she sees as real
The days pass,
The scars number every day.

What destiny will free her
From the closed heart?
What steps will she take to free
Herself,
That the cage might become a bird?

Who will rescue her from the wolves,
While she bleeds herself
Into oblivion,
Some day,
Oblivion may take her home.

There are colors yet unknown in my finite view of Earth , artistic wonders undiscovered , to this day quite alone .. Geometric shapes where Sweetgum trees silhouette the majestic Dawn .. Enchantment with every turn go I , to study my religion by day , collect my thoughts and observations by night .. To interplay among life undiscovered  , to revel someday in its happenstance ... The weathered profiles of a million botanicals unknown or forgotten . An ocean whose riddles remain unsolved , seventy percent of our precious world where exploration has barely scratched the surface .. Dark , rainy afternoons reconfigured with burst of light , the surface of oceans ever mysterious , highlighted by the Moon on hazy nights .. I flew over Moccasin Creek to sample fresh water and take in mountain greenery ..Walked the treetops of the Oconee Forest to witness the floor of the woodlands as a squirrel , crow or eagle ..Slithered along the Georgia clay like a Black Racer , cautiously studied each image before me with the curiosity of a Red fox .. Enthralled with the Savannah Dancers of Tybee Island , precious gulls , blue ***** and brown pelicans .. Welcome every change of season , Dark pine thickets tell of death and renewal ...

                                                          II­
Jagged , blue grass approaches , green straw tops , quiet
cinnamon needle oceans connected by silver streak spider webbing ..
Warm winds divide earthen cover , lifeless termite ridden forefathers lay in testament to bitter destruction ... Our Noon star nourishes bold , sylvan seedlings , beneath her languishing February predicament however ... Grassy field roads lay locked in period of service , daylight path corrections , marble land buoy sentries within thistle , dandelion and Sawgrass .. Gold , knee high cover caresses , reaching skyward beside the field road , lying forgotten , left to the mercy of kudzu , marble and granite .. Scrags reclaim rusted encroachments , tin in battle with the tepid wail of afternoon wind as stick pines mimic the Appalachians , gently roll toward the awaiting lavender blue horizon ... As pasture returns to woodlands , blanketed in hues of brown with forest echoes , carry whispered voices into tomorrow ... Lively crows live to tell their wintry tale , resting among scuttled pulp wood entanglements , to be born again , covered in the pity of lingering broom sage ...                                                              ­                                                  

                                                        III    ­                                                                 ­Across the edge of twilight where soft lavender hues lay at
rest atop her riparian horizon .. Dandelion blooms pepper the
red clay embankments , lone bucks survey brown fields of harvested
corn ..Mourning doves cry for the end of day , wild hogs lay tracks at the rivers edge . Toms sing of their loneliness  , persimmons lay bitter along country lanes , the meat of Chestnut not harvested , the final years of tall , stately Pecans go shamefully unnoticed .. Barbed wire divisions etch Winter burned pasture , Morgans and Appaloosas graze the fertile , ambrosial green narrows .. Manmade pools dot the Crescent lady , cattle ditches appear along creeks and rivers holding Rock bass , Shell ******* , Yellowbellies and Bluegills ferociously hunting the waters surface , Alligator Snappers and Mudcats work the turbulent bottoms ... Hayfields , peach and muscadine arbors flourish , boiled peanuts and sorghum syrup , collards and sweet potatoes ...Blackberry , grape , watermelon and okra ..Water oaks have taken command of the front yard ,  moss and honeysuckle line fence rows , flowing patches of wild grass and snake berry , rocks from Cotton Indian Creeks line hand built flower beds and walkways .. Rhode Island Reds , Buff Orpington's and White Leghorns work these plantations . Sassafras and dewberry , wild plum and rabbit tobaccos . Gardenia , Crape Myrtle , Magnolia , Pine and Chestnut trees  flourish to this day .. The Old Bridge behind Millers Mill still visible , what stories this elder pass could tell before the confluence of the Indian Creeks .. Crayfish , Bream , Largemouth bass , Crappie , Yellow perch and Flathead catfish ! The tale of the Crescent lady lives forever and ever ..

How Hard I Tried
Nothing Dried
And I Can't Hide
All My Pains
Which Fills My Veins

The look in your eyes doesn't look like you anymore
The dark circles under your eyes, the smell of smoke upon your clothes
And you haven't said a word in hours, because you don't speak, you close
Every inquiry off with misdirection and no's
We know you aren't okay, dear, you can't hide it from anyone
Especially when you can't keep the secrets from yourself
How can you expect to get your pain past everyone else?
When the world turns to ****, you try to disappear
Your look changes, you give up on everything you hold dear
You run to those you hate, because you feel you won't get through
But you know when you leave, I'll look for where you flew
Because even when you can't love you, well, I still adore you
And when your look isn't the same, that's okay
Because I'll help you find yourself again anyway
And for all the time your silent, I still hear the chiming of your laugh
I still see you there smiling, our love transparent like glass
I know you can't understand it right now, and that's fine
Because you'll come to understand our love in time
One day you'll be ready, and you'll finally take my hand
And we can float up into space as planned

I
found
an
old
phone
today

In a shop
  with antiques

Bulky,
   black and
       beautiful

From the 50's
just like me

For sure it's dial
is a rotary

Its ring
takes me
to a musky old hotel lobby

I hear it ring... ring... ringing

The desk clerk shouts out

" Paging Irving  Paging Irving
      come to the front desk please".

This is for those who have had a broken heart
Who wept and screamt as it fell apart
People telling you the end is where it starts
"DON’T TELL ME WHERE IT ******* STARTS."
It stems from a belief that maybe, just maybe
if we were right they would never leave,
so we fall just a little harder than others
left our fathers and our mothers
out of the equation because we were in love.
And being in love was enough.

You promise yourself to shut that beat
To silence the sound of love’s heat
because you know the next time
it will be the same.
It becomes ingrained in you
to never trust that the sky is blue
saw cars running over cans
like it was about to run over you.
You fell at the feet of those
who stomped on you countless
believing that that beat will
vanish…
It doesn’t.
You’re deluding yourself
It doesn’t ever stop for anyone
including yourself.

So fall in love, have as many heartbreaks
Have so much heartbreaks that your heart
becomes just art because he
would have left with everything
washed away beyonds the seas
saw no waves of content
only waves of anguish
HE LEFT FROM YOUR HEART.
**And ...now all that’s left is art…