anyways, a craftsman never says, he
polishes out the rough spots and
burnishes the scars, like a man does.
Sharpening his knife on his
leg polishing until
his eyes burn
calming
his wife and offspring
stronger than hardened steel.
A man on a wire is
sturdy  
glowing like thunder
in any storm.
The force of man
creative is
even more
powerful
higher more
the peak of true
love, because
he is kind.

when I view the sky
a puffy cloud a blue
so nice I see
your smile

in the sun in the middle
of the day or the moon
at the middle of night
I notice your
silhouette

when I contemplate the heavens
peace I feel your arms around me
when I smile I feel your love
and holiness
I am all
I will ever be

because
of you.

I am not reading poetry.
I am cupping the words
in my hands, pouring them
over my head, rubbing them
through my skin, into my bones
breathing in
breathing out

becoming a poem

Upon my steel face, will it rain
upon my gleaming eyes, it will be made
the envy of a soul,
trapped in perfect face
to no great final resting place

My legs, drilled into the ground
my eyes, upturned to sky unwound
released of tears and raining down
to broken glass
and grass
their souls unbound

To stare deep into a darkened me,
my admirers creep along my metal sheen
as my material decompose,
to save my thoughts from endless woe

"So long!", will I be endless seen
abrupt, *****, incongruously
commanding these vistal centuries
of concrete and perjury

poking up grey thumbs among the hills
while the putrid stench under burrows
My fingers, ever curled, do maestrate
The doleful victims of that loving fate

And when you walk upon my land,
and see my metal hanging hands
Know my voice, hear my dreams
to never make the enemy of me.

Rain drops on my windshields
Blurring my vision slowly.
Off they go as the wiper is On.
I can now once again see clearly.

My life is like a dandelion
Spending my days under the sun
Then he came holding a little crayon
With his jet black sketches undone

My heart's been doomed since then
In moonlight, it hued to a dark silver-grey
He was the brightest among other men
"Please pick me." I repeatedly pray

He did and instantly, I was blissful as gold
Days are short but bursting into intense joy
But then his eyes turned blue; so dark, ice cold
Was he a trap or was he a perfect decoy?

My glows are gone but still, the stars shine
I lost my beams and my wandering mind
I will still grow and be completely fine
Believing that I was a rainbow, and he was color-blind

my heart runs wild
while my fingers stutter,
my mind reaching with sticky fingers
to grasp the right words
and catch them like fireflies
where you can all admire them from afar.

but this,
this love,
this is not like those carefree summer nights,
no, this is the middle of winter-
the biting cold an ever-present guest
just as you happen to be in my mind.

funny how
just the thought of
the comfort of your hand in mine
and the warmth of your lips shielding my own
is enough to block the gusts of cold out.

my mom turned out the light
and took away my book.
"no more stories, it's time to focus on your own,"
she scolded,
shaking her head with disappointment.
the door slammed shut quietly
as i sat trying to adjust to the suffocating darkness
when the window creaked open
and in you came with a candle of your own,
along with a blank book
with only one sentence-

"let's write our own- no limits."