The yellow eye
of the sun,
like the ancient eyes
of an old man
who's seen too much whiskey,
used to brown my skin
now just dries me out
like an old boot
turned the wrong way
on the post out by the highway.

r ~ 7/8/14

I sit here reading stories in the flickering dancing flames
Stories of fairies,  dragons,  magic and days of old
But also stories of happiness,  sadness, of long lost loves
In the flames I see my long lost love, the dreams that I once had
I want to write the words but I know not where to start
The flickering flames tell me we couldn't live together but we just cant live apart
The thoughts of what I had, I need is just another crack in my heart
In the flames I see the truth of what you meant to me
But I saw my dreams go up in smoke,  it was never meant to be

While I question existence
seek purpose and a god
the dog sniffs the trash bin
in howling hunger

and me bowel driven
trudge home from work
find hope in the neon
where the drongo harvests insects
its black wings cast an irrational night
of drunken refuge...

a home a poem and her.

It was today
I saw him preaching
"In all our actions,
we're always teaching."

So I came to him
question burning
"Doesn't that mean
we're always learning?"

Dandelions stand tall
   above the grass.
Inviting, daring. Brave.
    I have the energy
but not the heart
    to mow them down.
The grass rejoices.
   My conscience frowns.
My dog sleeps on.

r ~ 7/6/14