Good riddance good thoughts
Get uncaught; my tangled mind is fine,
On its own, you only make it cry
You’re good but unreachable
Your wisdom is un-preachable
Good riddance good thoughts
I’m changing the plot of my story

Those green eyes of yours
My favourite thing to see
So now please face me

I look around
For something just as pleasing
Who am I teasing

Those green eyes of yours
My favourite thing to see
So now please face me

I look around here
For something just as pleasing
Who am I teasing

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

My regrets are falling down on me like rain
And I know I’ve always said that I don’t have any
Each bad thing leads to a good
But I am noticing some that have never done anything good for me
Except get the curiosity out
But I would have rather been curious my whole life long
Than have regret taunting me in my sleep
And in my days

Nature is so confident
Its beauty is so prominent
Its grace flows just like butterflies
In yellow skies
It whistles through the branches
As a field of flowers dances
And a forest with a flowing stream
Just like a dream

The tread up was quick,
Read my map before we
Stopped for a picnic
Kicking rocks, picking leaves
Eating berries on the trees
Incline and decline but nothing
We couldn’t face with ease
T’was a breeze

But at the top...
When we stopped,
When the mountain grew red
And the thunder below us
Causing sweat beads to shed
And hopefulness fled
We looked to each other
And cried
As my face and bones vulcanized
Of the bubbling magma
The struggling stagnant stance
Of our feet betraying us,
Standing nonplussed
Breathing croaky and gruff
I huff,
You hum

What have we done

If fears
Were our laugh-at’s and don’t-care’s
If worries
Were our yeah-whatever’s and who-care’s
If failures
Were our pick-me-up’s and motivations
If don’ts
Were our must-do’s and determinations

How would the world be then?

The only thing you should ever take from a person
Is a smile
Or a hug
Or a laugh
Something that can be kept, and stolen away at the same time
And leaves you both feeling good

Crawl on me with spider legs
Thunder thoughts, unleash the plague
Shout your secrets, lay your eggs
On your knees and beg

You cower in the corner, small
You hear my heart beat in the walls
Muscles tense while voices call
You drown me like a waterfall

Protective waves sweep my veins
Washing off the year’s bloodstain
To sow, then weep, then harvest grain
Until we’re weak, and welcome pain

Of all the past and lives foregone
I found you in each frightful one
My bones and teeth remember well
The haunting sound of the passing bell

If I die, please thank the snow
For falling from the sky
So pretty as she glazes earth
Thank her if I die

If I die, please thank the sun
For lighting up my day
So warm and happy constantly
Thank her if I pass away

If I die, please thank the rain
So simple and serene
For all those times I’ve danced in them
Please thank them if leave

If I die, please thank the earth
For its wonders and its gifts
For showing me what beauty is
And teaching me to live

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

My feelings are screaming at you, pounding on my body’s walls,
Getting angry at my silence because they’re dying to get out.
This reoccurring notion gets me every time, but truth is, they never leave.
They know only one route.
Everything about you sits inside me, I feel you combine with me,
And I can’t ignore this thing that I know.
Take off whatever shield you bear, and let my feelings pour into your veins,
And there, let them live and grow.

I.
Bare-footed frolic,
In forest of peril,
To dine with the swine,
Though filthy and feral,
We eat with the pig,
We feast on the wheat,
We banish the wolf,
Who we don’t wish to meet.

II.
Below, befallen brothers,
Laying vertical in oak,
Defend my earthly body
Cover me in cloak.

Souls of loved departed,
Who whistle in the trees,
Redirect the cacodemon
The one who waits for me.

Spirit of the past,
Soothe with healing chants
Be my blinded eyes,
Protect me when I can’t.

III.
Bewitching
Betwixt the realm
Betwixt the elm and willow
Climb the hill
Of counting sheep
In search of sleep
Along your pillow.
Let eyes grow weary more;
Let dreams,
Let nightly scenes redeem,
And let soar
The fairy who flies
In search of eyes, wide awake.
Let me find
The lullaby,
To lull to rest
Until the next daybreak.

IV.
Which one will help me there?
The owl or the fox?
The leaping frog beyond the marsh,
The eagle or the hawk?
Who will be my spotting eye?
The “X” that marks my way?
I need the spirit’s guiding light
To not be led astray.

V.
Fire, red
And fire, high,
Beyond the line,
Beyond the sky
Ball of light,
Sphere of gas
Bless my soul
And cleanse my past.

Nightly phase,
Nightly scene,
Moon of magic
Time of dreams,
Wish me well,
Come to play,
Guide my footing,
Guide my way.

I** try not to tell you how I feel
No one should determine your choices but you
Farther from honesty I become
Lies aren’t told, but my thoughts aren’t portrayed
Unless you can dig them out of me
Every thought you have discourages you
No truth I could tell would save you from that
‘Cause the truth is, if you go
Everything would be hard for me, and you’d only feel worse

Wine has a color like my thoughts
Dark and wet
Because my mind is a dark room, with dew on the walls
And mold in the corners
It’s so empty I hear my dreams echo from when I was sleeping
Eleven hours ago
And honey has the consistency of my thoughts
Slow and thick
And sticky
Not letting go of the past
And collecting everything as it blows by
Just to get heavier and
Have me grow more sorrowful
My honey-thoughts and mind of dark places are unlikable
And I much prefer my old, fan-thoughts
That would blow the negative things away and cool me down
And my old mind of a castle so broad and beautiful with framed pictures on the wall
And marble stairs
Clean (never collecting dust), and organized
Where did it go?
Why did it leave?

I'm trying too hard
To fit into your little
Blackened, dusty heart

Taste what you should in the air
Which is beauty without anything to hold
Without anything to see
Taste and feel
What is there but not in sight

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 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

I will gladly tell you truths when the whole world is lying
I will stand by your bed
And whisper to you
Hold high your drooped head
And fill it with truth
And I’ll tell the uptight world “it’s alright, no one’s dying”

I will gladly make you laugh when frowns are dominant
When everyone is frowning
You’ll be shining through
In sad faces you are drowning
But I’ll be saving you
Your smile will be obvious and your laugh, prominent

I will gladly make you soar when the ground beneath you parts
Below you cracks the earth
And you’ll begin to fly
For all that you are worth
I’ll never let you die
And when I take you by the hand, I pretend it is your heart

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

Your spit against me
From your hate
But it came from your stomach that’s growling in envy

My soul alight,
When the sweet melody
Of kindred spirit’s song
Fills my fingers and toes.
When the divine,
Connects me with another,
When I find my brothers.
When Mother Earth
Collides me with my like-minded,
And we travel
To parallels and spirit realms.
I love them,
Those of my soul pods,
And born of stars,
And those with scars like mine,
And deep, other-worldly minds
And chosen-kin,
Who are more than our bones,
And our skin.
We are home when within,
And when together again.
We are cosmos.
We are love.
We are one.

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.

Walks by everyday,
'round the same time.
Her red coat as bright as her smile.
In her hand
a coffee, or perhaps, a cappuccino,
one she's been drinking for a while.
I envy the vibe that comes off her.
She radiates something so nice,
I automatically paste her smile to my lips.
I catch just a glimpse,
then I have to look twice.

I slit apart your soul,
And I ridicule your innards,
I cackle at the thought of such a sad excuse
For this lump of human rind and bone,
You lived a life alone
And so,
Your termination shall be so, as well

I interpose myself between the dirt and your mind,
My jaw unhinges devilishly
My tongue licks you blind,
As it spits putrid words of pity
Dastardly staring darts into your
Witty little demise
That I conjured up myself,
A plan I devised
Your shriek will not salvage what’s left
Stop wriggling,
Your writhing is futile
You’re powerless,
Pathetic mortal *******,
You’re crucified
Why bother try?
Your cries go unnoticed,
Neither dead or alive
No one close by
Your miserable wheezing
As I’m breathing with ease
I’ll mutilate your wants and desires
Set ablaze in a fire
Incinerated with your own choir
Your sad song of solus fate
You’re at stalemate
Your blood will stagnate
Until it’s mucilaginous
Until your own body defeats you,
It chokes you and mistreats you,
And ends you from the inside out
A slow death, undoubtedly
A vile, cataclysmic, unendurable ending
An excruciating decease
But fair,
As you deserve nothing less
Than this wretched release

My words are lying on their side;
I’m sorry they’re so lazy, there’s really nothing I can do
But you open up and your words fall out like a slippery fish
How are your words so daring and beautiful?
Teach me

Don’t ask why all must end —
Without end,
There would not be beginning.

There would not be reason,
Or lesson,
Or strength.

Without death,
No life.
No wonder,
No loss.

Toxins would fester beneath skin,
And without ending,
Your patience wears thin,
If nothing ends,
We give in.
Nobody wins.

Without closure,
Without moving on,
Without change:
Doors stay closed,
All is mediocre,
And bland to the taste.
Nothing improves.
Everything stays.

Don’t ask why all must end.
We know pain like a close friend,
When the end visits,
And it costs us large sums
Of ourselves.
But beginnings are not born
Without help.
New life doesn’t sprout —
The fungus doesn’t grow
Without the fallen green turning grey.

Don’t ask why.
It ends because it must.
Trust the stops the train takes on the way.
Grieve,
And cry until sober of sorrow,
But know,
That today’s end
Brings tomorrow.

What doesn’t get done
Will never get done
If no one decides to pursue it

What always is done
Doesn’t need to be done
But it’s done by all those who do it

What sometimes is done
Is too often un-done and
Should probably be done all the time

And what wants to be done
But not done quick enough
Could be easily done just in time

My mind does the touching
And morphing
And feeling
And making, creating and inventing

Whereas my hands
Just do what my mind says to do
So they really are just
Slaving

...But I suppose if I did not have them
The things of my mind could not come to life
Could not be possible outside of my own being
And those things would forever stay in bottles and labelled boxes in my head
And forever develop spider webs and dust!

So, thank you, hands.
Thank you very much.

Sink your thoughts into my open-ended pen of a mind and I’ll write them down and analyze them on a Wednesday which I have no plans.
Open your goals with me and I’ll stuff them down the centre of a paper airplane and we’ll grip hands and throw it together aiming it directly into the wishing well of our future

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

Not always is a map put in front of you
Not always are you passed a compass for good judgement
Not always are answers so clear
Not always is the final product laid out on the table
Not always is a rough draft drawn out
Not always are clues so obviously picked out
Not always are pathways cleared
Not always are rules so easy to follow
–  Not always is finding things easy

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.

A veil comes across, a grieving sound beckons but a helpless whisper pulls
A grieving sound beckons but a helpless whisper pulls
You pull at what strings lay withered of me
Your strength - not untangles, but, detaches my puppets
I lay about with wholehearted regret, as I’m regurgitating health back into you, but where is mine if I’ve used it all up for my friend.
Where is mine if I’ve used it all up for my friend.

Monday, please don’t do this
Don’t make me feel off balance
Don’t cause my ship to sink
Don’t take my hopes in gallons

Monday, leave me be now
Don’t take my pros, take cons
Don’t pop all of my bubbles
Don’t walk on all my lawns

Monday, hurry up and pass
Don’t **** me dry of smiles
Don’t last a minute longer
Don’t return here for a while

Your grappling hook
Latched to my rope
I harness the hope of hereafter
I greet it with laughter
We snicker at the doom below,
A tomb you’ll never know,
As the womb of our quiddity
The viscidity of release,
The nucleus of your fantasy
Is what my mind seduces
I’ll never fall,
I’ll never traduce this
And we will know the peak
The proximate pinnacle,
The victory,
The conquered squall
The tallest wall,
We will know defeat

Clouds rumble,
I walk the crooked stair.
If hair fell like a waterfall;
But instead it falls like ash
And soot.
If only footprints like
A horse carriage in brittle snow,
But instead they sloth and sludge
In muddy pasts
And saddened hearts.
If voices like a song, called out
Instead they gargle
Moan
And wail.
Instead they tell the tale
Of the day the clouds rumbled
And I walked the crooked stair.

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

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

The orange sky
Welcomes in the herons flying by
Blue to the feathers
But yellow in the eye
And the grass, the emerald green
So clean
Saying hi to the
Black and yellow bees
Near by

Amazement overcomes me
When I step outside
From the littlest blade of grass to the biggest tree
From the smallest crawling bug to the fattest bee
When I step outside
Amazement overcomes me

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

Lay siege to my mind;
Pull strands of old thought
Through old soot, through old knots
Force the draw bridge to lower,
Archaic mosaic of my brain’s walls
A palisade to invade
A great brawl

Raise the caskets,
A layer of dust, and sediment
A lock of resentment, a fear of resettlement
A mockery of my pottery
My walls fall into crumble,
How long until dismemberment
How long until my deepest thoughts
Are your white elephant

A tree told me a story today
And it was better than a grandfather-on-his-rocking-chair
Better than an Uncle-George-by-the-campfire
Because this tree did not use words
He used movements graceful like a river
And I’ve never seen anything so beautiful

Valentine,
Love of mine
Don’t resign
Stay in line
Keep in mind
You’ll never find
A love like mine