the ocean is blind and beautiful
searching the lonely shore
For what it had, time long past
a love for once before

It worships the ever knowing sun
but dances with the moon
Sacrificing for its love
the rain for springtime blooms

the summer begs so much more of it
the ocean must comply
so storms forge from anvil heights
and paint the raging sky

soon the sun forgets her loyal charm
trees mourn their sour loss
the ocean grows cruel and cold
scarlet leaves wave and toss

what is love with out that flowing fire
her sorrow falls as snow
the earth dreams as winters guest
as its veins seize and slow

the sun will rise once again one day
and she will froth and gleam
sorrow melts returning home
in worn yet hopeful streams

So 16 bit, I beg of you
Every time I switch you on
Galvanize time 'till I am dust
Adventures perilous and long

I am folded and dog eared.
banging off the walls
of your corroded arteries
one of countless fliers
so black and red
with a smirk
and a few choice words
faded by avalanche fire
just a paper boy
and his paper life
blowing about the entrails
of this card board
cutout cell.

I was not asked to bare a cross
I carry a mantle instead
Of woven dreams
With hope spun seems
In a salty loveloss red.

I was not asked to speak aloud
But I shall do it anyway
As hand grenades
Or sweet cascades
Like an actor's last of days

I was not asked to know this fire
So I will feed it with my coal
Until it drowns
With in the bounds
Of my mighty roaring soul

I was not asked to sit here still
And breathe the colors of the sky
These clouds of mine
Go astray in time
Releasing the arcane eye

I miss the wind of them.
Those raspberry pancake
words.
The giggly syrup floods
in monster truck style.
The no's and the pouts,
the boxing bouts.
The random dinosaur
I love you,
from cookie filled smiles.

Music again.
It always comes to music.
Always good, in its misty perfection.
It is the bridge to your yestermind.
The smiles in the way far back.
Even for the lost. the dying.
The electric guitar in my veins.
Stinging strings ripping my soul.
Not for damage but for greater growth!
The cancer everyone needs.
Like bubonic symphonic coos
from metal head doves
of golden fired mustering.
A parade down mirrored streets.
Gliding like fireflies
across all the paths that are you.
Dead on
right on
cried on
thoroughly you.
uncontrollably you.
Fathom the fullness of chasing something
that resides entirely in your soul?
An alchemy of pox - e, moxie,
and all things cobalt blue.
The moon light see of answers.
Only an ear away.