Marvelous looks the way
same route though everyday
amid leaves' rustles
and street hustles
walking jogging running
merrily with the nimble steps
skimming on winds
in an imaginary land
soft little fingers
slipping in and out
of the age worn hand.

Ten minutes to ten minutes fro
changes the landscape though
stiff barren dull sad heavy.

The trudge back
along the insipid land
with no hands to hold.

The landscape holds nothing..
it's all in the mind.

Small, wet, and
Buried
Trying hard to remember
I am a seed
Buried is where I need
To be

You take:

One part nursery
And one part tomb

Mix well beyond thoroughly,
Folding in struggle as you go

Sun-bake it for all eternity
And call the dish 'Home'

We exist within the four dimensions

But truly live within the fifth

Everymind's a'whirl in it's own world of myth

Circles around circles around moments that we miss

While the trials of the porcupine lead many a'miff

To both want and want not; to flaunt meaning mixed


And yet...


I'd like to hold you closer, in spite of the ******

Be not deceived by the 'I', but take delight in it's tricks

Repeat that line till it sticks

And chase that spine to the Styx

It's a long, slow slide inside Ganesha and Nyx

And it's an, often, low ride from our cribs to our crypts

Take
The winter -
Turn it
Into summer

Take
The moon -
Turn it
Into the sun

Take
The chicken fat
Out of
The soup and

Ask me,
Sarc-less,
"What's left
To be done?"

Cold rain
On a hot day

Ascends again
As steam