Born in blue ,died in white.
From far off seas she cried.
Fathered by winds from tropical hills.
Mothered by artic tide.

So off she set ,sisters in tow.
They dance, they chase ,they play.
Fishermen fear their shouts and their cheers.
Their boats they shake and sway.

And as i float not far from shore.
My paddle close to hand.
With one last breath.
I hear her voice.
As she sings to bag-n-bun sand..

I felt the love so deep in my heart
Like a knife tearing me apart
I felt your breath in every
Pulsating blood vessel  flowing
Through my veins, and I knew
That my life would never be the same.

I felt my heart wanting to break
Every time I’d look at your face.
Your eyes would take me on a long journey
To places I’ve never been before
Like in a whirlpool going round and round
And my self going further down.

You are every breath of my life
Every desire in my soul
And you are the one I want to hold.

My heart has become an open book
Pick it up and take a look.
My heart no longer has anything to hide
So come on down and climb inside.

Look at the way a heart truly beats for you
And there is nothing that I wouldn’t do.
To capture your love and put it in a bottle
For all the world to see, that your love
Belongs to me.

This is my heart and I give it to you
Like a bee gives us honey
Taste the sweetness and the joy it brings
For your love is my everything.

I opened a book and flew
to a far distant land
I disappeared from my room and the mundane sounds of everyday
This world was alive, this island of infinite adventures
George, not to be called Georgina
and the other three, and the doggy
I have the faintest memories
Except they aren't quite like memories
I don't remember words, but broken videos and sepia photographs
like I lived all these stories in a a past life
a life where everything seemed monumental-
huts were mansions,
shrubs-forests, people-giants, moments-eternity

Siting on a bed and making shapes out of bugs on the ceiling
on grass that smelled green, making smoke monsters out of clouds

In these idyllic wanderings into imagination
Homework was the tripping hazard
Map Stencils? Arithmetic?  
5+18= STAY INSIDE THE BOX.

When I open the pages now,
its never quite the same,
I wonder how someone could be named ****
and how their parents let them own an island
and why they never grew up.

So I pick up something with more pages
and longer words, and complex thoughts
and subtexts based on isms, and context

But the words stay on the pages
and the pages in my hand
and my bed in my room, with me trapped within
I hear my cellphone buzzing, and a notification about nothing on facebook
So I put a bookmark, never returning.

I think it happens when you're thirteen,
the initiation, rite of passage
they lock up that secret part of your mind
and put the key inside your old journal that you never use (because journals went 'live')
Welcome to the real world! Now you must find yourself!
Who are you? What do you want? What's the quickest way to get it?
Find a path and tread it carefully; don't wander or hover, or smell a water lilly, or stare at a worm, or chase a butterfly.
Just keep moving, till you get to that destination- where you'll find applause. (Oooh..applause they say.)

I'm walking and walking and walking.
But I cant find mansions or forests or giants.
Everything seems so small, so vivid.

I see the builders, not the castle; the tricks, not the magic; the camera, not the fairy tale.
I try to veer off-coarse into the wilderness
I try to wander but my footsteps seem so measured.
I start running and the roots of trees trip me, and the branches
scratch my face.

I fall and open my eyes and see the endless true blue sky.
I think there might have been a lake that glimmered with angeldust,
and I heard whispers of laughter that kept bouncing off the water.
There was something about the wind, like mystery in the air.
I felt on the verge of something, a clue, a challenge
An untitled adventure.

As I began to leave reality behind and lose myself in this strange, faraway land- a key turned, a door shut. The answering machine beeped.

I know now why the famous five stayed young forever.

On a wall of stars hangs a pearly eye.
Its light carries slumber, its presence brings absence.
Why should this traveler cross the skies in solitude?
Her brother hangs just across the heavens, yet their paths rarely cross.
When their lives do meet, the world turns upward in chaos.
The life of a heavenly body is eternally lonely.