I have mountains to give the world
And I was waiting for the earth to unzip and open up a space for me
Waiting in line for a ticket
Waiting for someone to give me the signal – that it’s okay to go
But I was silly
I can just start whenever I want
My limits are only set by myself

I have mountains to give the world
And I’ll start right now

I climb up your nose
With my fingertips and then
They fall through your hair

If all of nature should be so mean
And swallow itself up
To disappear into dreams and far off wishes
I would first grab a hold of its hand
And tell it to not forget me
Because I will not forget it

I would search for it at the seams of the earth
And the cracks in the sidewalks
The holes of volcanoes
And stuffed in the clouds
And my life would exist for all eternity
Until I found nature and could rest in peace with it

My body could be rotting underground but I would be searching
And I would not be at peace until then

This lack of feeling is so loud that I’m dizzy,
And it has dug a hole with its strength that no words could fill
And I’m reaching towards nothing,
Running forward, just to feel myself pulled back into guilt.
And where is the sound?
Because silence gets boring after so long,
And where is my sight?
Because all I’ve been seeing are visions of things that are gone.

The songs that play off my elbows and knees
Are quietly loud and
Somewhat adjoined to the whispers of my heart

Your hair is a nest to beauty as birds and magic as feathers and a hat to a mind that is bursting with butterflies of lovely and songs of amazement

Your eyes are a galaxy themselves and I’m lost with the stars and the planets and moons and their colors are colors you cannot find in your house or outside or anywhere else but your eyes

And your voice is a sound no human could repeat or imitate as each word has its own unique feel and movement and each one carries me a different place with different stories and worlds and I visit each one as you speak to me

And your neck is a structure built perfectly holding up your valuable face and sturdy enough to appear as strong and as powerful as the trunk of a tree in the woods

And your chest, how it moves when you breathe and your breaths contain rhythms and notes that I cannot avoid for the death of me

And your arms and their movements and actions and how they hold sound alongside them that whistle when they sway
And their shape and how it so much appears as a branch that holds hands that are berries and good to the taste

And your fingers and how they are those vines going up walls on the sides of those buildings downtown and their slippery grace and the power you hold in your tightly closed hand and the power that flees when you loosen your grip

And your legs how they carry such a grand prize and how they help you to move and spread your wonder and greatness about so inspiringly
And the way they move, so swiftly and I’m sure they could dance such a dance that no human’s eyes have ever focused on before


And your feet

And how I hope one day they take you straight to me

Nature feeds me the notes
And I bellow them out
She sings alongside me;
The grass whistles, the trees hum
And when all is quiet in the woods at night-time
The sky is in symphonies
The moon sings its song
And the stars, harmonizing along
And if in this you are missing out
Where have you been?

It is not the length
Of a poem that matters
But what it contains

Your tongue of no's
licks me dry

I have a brain of water
taking the shape of whatever it's in
and when it is in you
you manipulate it

and I say the words you want
and I think the thoughts you got
and I walk the steps you walk

but I don't let go of my balloon
I play with it in my room
and I fly when you leave
I go back to me
and there's all the yes's I want there to be

You are colder than the frost along my window
Colder than the wind, that through the trees, blow
Colder than the snow
And you are causing strings between me and this darkness
Scaring off the light that guides my conscience
Nothing makes sense

Something I have learned
Is, you can't change a person
But you can leave them

Inside my heart, is
A special little corner
Reserved for nature

Sadness is much more important
Than the reasoning behind it
I will help you fight this feeling
And shine a light to blind it

Don’t pause
We’re doing fine on play
We could even fast forward a little
But don’t pause
And definitely don’t stop
Don’t even think about rewinding
It would just cause bad memories

I want you and me to go so high that earth will seem a speck
I want to go so far with you that our feet will be none left
I want me and you to last so long that all will watch in envy
I want you to love me to the point its weight is heavy

“I’m really happy you’re in my life,
I wouldn’t have it any other way”.
Neither would I. If you weren’t in my life
All things in sight would be grey
“You just make me so happy
All the time”, and I am too
If it weren’t so contagious
Everything would be blue
“It just feels natural doesn’t it”
Yes, there is nothing good we lack
If I were to not see you again
All things in my life would turn black

I rip it in half
But not in four
If I were to rip it more
My eyes would close and I’d regret it
My hands would fold and I would cry

Because of you, it is not only my mouth that smiles.

My fingers, when comfortably placed between your own, either hand, smile.

My hair, when slowly and carefully you're playing with or fixing it in any way, smiles.

My back, when those arms of yours are placed along it and I feel safe from any harm my troubled, paranoid mind could imagine, smiles.

My eyes, when the vision of you or the actual you is directly in front of them, (preferably the actual you), smile.

“Fine”
I said, to doubt
“Fine, have it your way”
And at that
He grinned
And certainly did have it his way

Far away like a planet
I see you appear
My memory jogs, latching to a slot
like a view-master
You're finally here
I click through
It's rickety with static,
I'm stricken with fear
I know what nostalgia can do
Raising feelings of the past like the undead
Dropping thoughts like morning dew

But I start to breathe,
I see our souls come out to play,
and I lost myself today
As I watched our spirits dance
Mine flowing like a blue dress
and yours like wild fires
And everything's okay
It's like we never stopped the music
all this time it played
I knew that we'd cross paths again
and dance our dance
I just took the longer way
We had to take the scenic route
to learn about ourselves
I got to know a few people on the way
they were all the wrong ones
who taught me all the right things
the past, half-assed relationship trash
and those who led us both astray
all part of the plan, you could say
the one where I walk past you in a grocery store isle
simple glance and then I take your hand
before you pay
feelings ablaze like it was yesterday

But that was not when we saw each other last
(it was a decade perhaps)
and souls barely attached
hands and heart weak from the past
but warm now
in your grasp
because through all time and space
through you and I
this love exists
at last

The tide of my mind flows in and out,
breathing out then in,
Dryness in my mouth
There's ripples in my heart and bubbles in my belly
I thought I was drowning, but
I'm sorry dear earth,
I must have drank the ocean

My hands reach out like branches to you,
dead parts of my past
fall off me like an autumn day
you've built your nest upon me and I hear your song
I thought I was falling, but
I'm sorry dear earth,
I must have ate a tree

I hit rock bottom at the base of an obstacle
I started the climb,
You latched your rope to mine
Pulled when I was slipping and relaxed my heavy breaths
I thought I wasn't budging, but
I'm sorry dear earth,
I must have stole a mountain


But I am no robber.
Then is this what it is to feel love?

Ravelled spools
Of spilled awake-dreams and un-sleeping grievances.
Let’s watch them like an old film
On a tattered sheet.
I want what you want — to sleep.
To say goodnight to trickling doubt,
And face the grout in the walls.

Our graveyard;
It beckons,
It bellows.
The crows call.
The raindrops crawl down our coffins.

But I believe in you and me.
Our funeral is a mockery.

They’ll pick up the debris
Of our bones.
But little do they know,
Our devotion is feisty.
Our love is indelible; undying.

So I’ll ask politely.

While you’re clenching cloth napkins
And sighing in strife,
Ready your eyes
For a death
That can come back to life.

I am haunted by a thought I hold,
A vision that I can’t let go,
And words I’ve never told.
But I push on, I heave, I **
And I follow the wendigo
Of you and I

What is a lonely cricket's life even worth
if no one hears it chirp?
Are we to determine it's worth,
Between it's time of death and birth?

A true adventurer as I ever did see,
A warrior who leads,
A lone survivor I admire
One of grass and trees

The cricket never lost or stopping to wonder
One step after another,
His compass: his heart,
The path is his brother

Takes the world as is for what it sees
The small ground it defeats
in it's tiny, naked life
But only tiny to me

Even when no ear to vindicate the sound
Musical leaps and bounds
A song in every step
A composer unowned

A melody just to entertain the sky
A beautiful chirping cry,
Even when no one's to listen
Even when no one's nearby

When the fatigue of the tree festers
When the leaves weep
And side-sweep
And sap leaks of the arboraceous bole
The foul smell of dampened,
Fermenting flora
The bog
The muck
The moor
Forever grot and grunge
But never moans,
Never loathes the morning
Never curses the sun for rising
Or hexes the moon,
Or thinks life bleak or banished
It settled in its mold
The duty it was told,
It’s destined purpose
As a puddle upon plates of terrain,
A tamed stain, remaining unmoved
And unaffected by
You and I,
Unaffected by passerby’s
Translucent and still,
Entirely exposed and yet unseen
Insouciant,
Tranquil
Composed
Serene

Friend.
Until clouds part and world’s end.
I know this.
I know you.
Friend.

Pick-pocket.
And you pick the troubles you pocket.
You thieve me.
You thieve you.
Pick-pocket.

My heart pumping iron like a
Boilermaker
The steady hand; focused mind
Next move,
Weave through
Don’t swallow untruths
Reworking foundation like a
Millwright
Don’t let the past dismantled disarray
Frighten you away
The plans frayed
The gas breaks
I’m interlocking interrelations like a
Pipefitter
Piecing together chronicles
Of a story fabricated
Easily persuaded
Vulnerable and naked
If you’re awake,
Don’t make me wait,
Fated to the dark
Until my iron coagulates

As the marsh marigold grows from the swamp,
So too, do I grow from ugly things.
When gloom builds a village around me,
I make friends with the community,
And decorate the walls of the houses
To fit my taste.
And just as the new branch grows from the severed stump,
So do I.

I want to spread you on my toast,
And pour you in my coffee
Let me lick you off my lips for breakfast
And taste you on my morning breath

Painted plastic, the brushes stroke,
Camouflaged as diamond stone,
Beneath the cloak of white-blue sky
The granite cries alone.

Above the puddle, although wee
His belly masked in lily pad
The pond beside, he takes a peek
While wishing he was grand.

Poking out of tortoise attire,
The bird beak pecks the grounded corn,
Though the other winged prey higher,
She yearned to be earth-bourn.

If we fill the water of wishing wells,
If we gladly call the puddle a pond,
We break biologic boundary spells
And sing our fateful songs.

"What is beautiful about a woman?"
I asked history.
And he said:
Juno Lucina
The miracle of birth.

"What is beautiful about a woman?"
I asked language.
And he said:
Mami, Morsa,
White flower, white dress.

"What is beautiful about a woman?"
I asked society.
And he said:
She is the good little mother
That I ask her to be.

When they say beauty is on the inside,
Did they mean in the ovaries?
Why is there beauty where babies are made,
But not in the woman that made them?
If she behaves like the perfect, practiced wife
The world cheers along.
But what about her,
Is she beauty alone?

"What is beautiful about a woman?"
I asked art.
"She is beauty,
She is beauty,
She is beauty", she said.

Relinquished like the evaporated ground
of where a lake was once found.
All my misfortunes cease eruption;
The volcano: a piano you play
You lullaby me by day
You likely ask Father Time,
Your old friend,
Where I’ve been.
I’m sorry I’m late
Forces forcing my hands in dances
I never asked for,
You dissipate the scary faces
And the monsters under beds.
Yet I know,
Awaiting as patient as a broken loom
You perch with the birds,
But I’ll be there soon,
I’ll be there soon

If I can’t assuage
The crave for rain
In rugged drought and dry,
I hope at least
To see the day
That Mother Nature tries.

Your ebullience — my elixir.
Your structure — my realm.
My charmer,
My frolick-footed, arm-in-arm,
My wintertide warmer.
My bicycle bell,
My penny well of unwary wishes.
You capsize my worries,
Choke the vexed fires,
And anchor my fleeting desires.

I’m a cauldron of ardor and incertitude
A flourishing garden before me
Flowers admired, but not for the touching
I clutch at every word
Incoherent incantations fell accordingly
And bled down my window like tar
As time decelerated, and coalesced in my elixir
If all people held auras like yours
I’d have my cure
But due to lack of the latter,
You are the last essential ingredient
And the only one that matters

I look at life
With a warm cloak around me,
The mantle of your amiability
And when you unfastened the veil
Over my eyes,
To my surprise,
I saw the Elysian Fields,
Waterfalls
Mountains high,
Kaleidoscope lullabies
And all my fantasies underpinned
By the foundation we blanketed
The quilt of our proclivities
The dreams we animated
The dance we seize
Our castles in the air
Our lair
I’m struck with glee,
I’m thankful for your anatomy,
I’m thankful that you took me there

The blanket-dust lifts like a sheet,
When I find my tatty chest,
Under lock and debris.
Yesterday seems as old as the wheel,
As I curtain my hair behind ears.
The key crepitates
within the metal juts and crevices.
With a final hissing crack,
It snaps,
And the golden hue
Of past,
It blinds,
With uninterrupted stares through beryl iris.
How something can disobey time and space
As it pleases,
I’ll never know.
But as it cuts through every age I’ve sewn,
And halves the height of grown,
And dyes my ego black and white,
I’m rerouted —
To a new me (or an old me?),
In every photo leering back.

I haven’t the slightest clue
Why a clover, running vast and tall
As the large oak is to me, as it is to an ant
Why the four-frond need not be seen
But to be as grand as gold
A lucky little forest undergrowth
A measly being with a great purpose
And a lesson to behold
When it leans upon the heel of your boot
Or settles near your clambake quilt
Even unnoticed
It lives merrily, dancing with an extra limb
Though no one will look down to see
It holds its gaiety in quietude; in still

Like a wildebeest
The commotion within me,
Unsettled,
The anthemic rhythm is unruly
My carcass accommodates an anarchy
Transfixed by an enticing temptation
I am gullible liquid
Falling into your shape,
Absorbing into your creases, willingly
Do with me as you please
I’ll monopolize your monologue
Engage in every lie
Like it’s made of gold
I am your ever-lasting prize
As long as we don’t volatilize
I’m yours to mold

I looked at the circle
And it was a square.

Friendly emotions
Are divisible by small numbers,
But crowds give me a bad taste.

I click the metal counter,
I’m at 26 questions starting with “why”,
And my memory
Is a dish of expired food in the fridge.

A figure of many
Futures
Stands at my front door,
But I don’t answer
To unexpected guests,
And my mailbox is a
Pocket of regret.

My attempts like dirt on buckskin,
But the moon
And sun
Both know the time I put in.

If only they could speak for me.

When the life inside my head
Infiltrates the life that others see,
I am the servant to emotion.
I am the sleeping circus lion behind iron.

When others see the best in me,
It’s unrequited.
How can we reside in a place we’re uninvited?
And we pretend we like to fight
For the issues we birth.
The hearse we take turns driving to the cliff,
To **** it again.

Come with us.
Open your locked doors; your closed mind.
Archaic ways are dead,
And we spread no offerings along the coffin elm.
Forward is the way of the universe.
You are a person like me,
And they are a person like him.
When deemed unfit to move up in the world,
Along with the rest,
You are delivered six feet down.
Horizontal regrets.
But a regret reverberating too late,
Won’t be loud enough to penetrate the fertile earth,
In which we grow the flowers you cut;
The forsythias we frolic in your absence.
You wish them forget-me-nots,
But not one will remember your thoughts.

Let’s save the epitaph for the grave
And sip on our tea while it’s still hot
The spiral stair case looks daunting from the bottom step,
But I’ll tie your shoes,
And I’ll wipe your cheek when it’s wet
And when we hang our flag parallel to the timber,
I’ll gather the arrows of your quiver
And each one sent to the sky
With a well wish
Like a wishing well dime
As the weight on your shoulder decreases
I’ll flatten the creases of your coat
And remind you that the climb is behind us

The right of me stays,
And the left jumps.
The left holds on to a fleeing thought;
A candy apple haze;
While the right stays.
I mount the rusty carousel and I want to go straight.
When circles repeat a darker grim;
A haunting I put myself in;
My fate.

My limbs stretch thin.
My ticket to ride; the unforgiven sin.
But the clown grins upon my feverish state;
My fate,
That I put myself in.

Feel it drench us
Heart to toe
I feel the past below,
Let’s tread,
Let’s trek,
Let’s tottle,
Full throttle
Utopia ahead,
Your role model is a single thread
The one that matched us long ago
A single thread
That lies untied
Between our bodies in the snow
The single thread
And our life anew,
To utopia we go
Me and you

The firefly clouds, glowering teasingly,
Scintillating with sweet melancholia
At the site of their eternal lure
In it’s inward sinking creases
As it corrugates
Into it’s bellowing pleats
(Like my blanket in which I’m receding)

The cherry blossom beast, dusty rose
And swaying with my sorrows
Ebbing when the wind blows
It knows my abnormalities
The clockwork of it’s mastery over me
Gleaming at me like a haunting unshaken,
Taunting my nightmare’s return below
As it’s colossal significance
Outweighs my inward woes

The lacklustre paralysis of flat rock
The slabs strategic and few
Receive the drum of the deluging skies
And support my view,
As I’m rooted upon one as my royal prize
My throne amidst illusion
I watch each suicidal drop fragmentize
And flower into bulbous aqua crowns
And quickly dematerialize
A mirrored release of my inner cries

The cascade; an adventurous torrent,
A majestic meander,
Humbly and monstrously resplendent
Equanimous and independent
In feud with the far-flung thunder’s hum
But alas, it knows it’s echelon
As I’m the queen of my own ascent
This idyll,
This heaven I mindlessly invent
To repent
And release what is unpleasant inside me

I have lost all sense of my hands
Everything they touch is unfelt
And unkind
The contortionist of my mind
It is like the sun on closed eyelids
A fear of what you feel instead of see
A fear of the hairy arachnid
Behind the tree
A fear of me

Why is the abstract mind an afterthought
Sometimes I fight to see what’s behind physical existence,
What is there, inside,
To see inside, behind the eye,
Behind the mind
Bellowing out
Unfound, untied
Unbound to those who try


What about: I am; therefor I think?
Though a thought can be a hinderance
It can also be a seed
A garden unweeded
That wields, and grows, and feeds.

Your metal against me,
The cold edge of your weaponry
The manacles, your body’s debris
Against my face like the sand of the desert
Vanquished feelings you banished to dungeons,
But the bludgeoned internalized truth, burning like cyanide, will be a battle unending,
A horrific cry from inside
Be glad when the sun rises,
And light grazes the shadows ignored by your stubborn mind
Do what’s unkind if it means that dubiety will cease,
And fate will tickle my pride,
And tease fleetingly, the right direction,
The next step, the resurrection of cognizance,
For if we let a chance by,
I’m stuck taking steps in the devil’s dance,
I’m welded at stance; wallowing at the willow tree’s cry

I had a table runner
with intricate yellow thread
it reminded me of your favourite restaurant.
But my mouth brimmed with knowings
that didn’t go anywhere.
My tongue swelled
and felt like when rainfall dribbles down windows.
A chest of perplexing fact
but I will not utter a single thing.
A double blow to your hands,
each one dances with questions
unanswered and prancing along book spines and potted plants,
while you wait for my preordained leave