One empty promise made
An error within me
I built a false facade
Now credibility crumbles
The selfish century
His selfie statue
Naturally erected
Gossip made the fountain split
Words and stones have toppled it

Along the margins
No one hears the starling sing
Her babies are gone and starving
The riverbanks are poisoned
The fat cats are all laughing
They have no need for starlings
They only feast on men

When the feeling
Fills to the brim
The ripple, overflow, spills and pours out
Around me
Onto you
I don't understand them
I am over it.
These are my insides
Will you take them?

The soul cannot be crushed
Even and odd
With all the weight of the world
STILL ALIVE
with all the pressure of the past
STILL HERE
Elements, isolated, commoditized , extinguished.
STIll expressive
Chained, bottled, misunderstood,
STILL WILD
angry, sad, lost and lonely
STILL LAUGHING
medicine, music, sweetness, poison...
The Sol will find a way
To fire
To rise
To water
To cover
To bring to life
Earth
love

What words would I use,
If these were my last?
Uh, like, nothing? What kind of question is that!

Silence would seam to suit the space
When light and life depart
To dress the heart that has been sparked
It's silent at the finish line!

So spill your guts to worthy targets
Or zip the trap and listen
Empty words are often loaded
Worlds are fool of garbage.

Silence screens and measures taste
To separate the cherry
My tongue takes time to cut it out
My tongue is sword of scary

Words drift me danger near
Silence now is all I hear.

Weird is the heart
Of this wired hour!

I AM EMPOWERED

in spired towers
On walls of blooming morning flowers
As darkness cowers; lord the land!
You tenant man, this fruit is yours, devour.

Subtle beauty
Is hardly scene

Hidden within
Eyes that see.

Eyes that know
What he means

What he meant
Not what it seams

Before the flower
Turns to seed

Subtle beauty
Is rarely scene.

While the bridge
Turns to leaves

He walks away
But doesn't leave

He turns away
So doesn't see

The subtle beauty
That she dreams.

The fairies break there dances
And leave the printed lawn,
And up from India glances
The silver sail of dawn

The candles burn their sockets
The blinds let through the day,
The young man feels his pockets
And wanders what's to pay

*A.Houseman