oh, if you knew
my love of you
the way i see the colour blue
my dandelion heart,
what would you do?

oh, if you saw
my gnashing jaws,
my visions of a million doors,
my labyrinthine head,
would you want more?

oh, if you took
the way i shook,
my thousands of unwritten books,
my young and shaky hands,
would you still look?

oh, if you heard
of all i've learned,
of things i've locked away and burned,
my intermittent joys,
what would your words?

oh, if i told
the world so old
and finally stood strong and bold,
my secrets made of steel,
would you stay cold,
oh
my dandelion soul?

There's a magical place in the forest
Where fairies go to cultivate
Flutter around with verses and rhyme
Sweet poetry they make

They frolic amongst the
Verbs and nouns
Plucking flowers and synonyms
Joining hands and ripe phrases
Create odes they want to sing

Cross pollinating the pieces of poetry
With different story lines
Fertilizing with a purpose
In the growing of the rhyme.

Their dainty feet
Sow similie  seeds,
And their deft little hands
Root out mispelled weeds.

Then they whisper the words to the
passing breeze
Who takes words, caresses them,
And floats with ease.

They travel and roam
Off to distant pastures new
Where they settle
And blossom into a muse.

Then implant in the mind
Of a resting poet
Enter his thoughts and views
Who upon waking
Will stretch, smile and write,
And continue to grow and enthuse.

we want to escape
this cold, cruel world
and all that lies within;

the fears, the judging
the hearts we cannot mend.

but how, we ask, how?
how do we get this peace?
and the closest thing to escaping it seems,
is sleep.


- j.m.d.

I* wept,
till my eyes were dry,
and I could feel no more.

In a statment of ,
complete numbness,
I layed in bed,
in hours,
for days,
s a d.

I wiped,
away the tears.
And my feelings ,
wouldn't stop ,
reminding me.
And those memories,
wouldn't stop,
chasing me.
And I couldn't just,
let go.