Shake the globe of awe inspiring Spring
You'll find me beside the Apple orchards ,
feeding the Wrens , welcoming every young
seedling , walking the morning rails , tolling
the bluebell valley floor with bare feet , offering
courtesy and a smile to all I meet ..

A sooth sayer will read tea leaves -
in a bid to portend the future
I would steep mine in hot water ,
served with a ginger snap cookie ,
thereby 'making' my immediate future happy ..

The ice cold chocolate milkshake and the longstanding dichotomy of poet philosopher , musician and painter
Socrates would make a point as to it's rightful owner , questioning whether or not it was even a cold , sweet drink
Dylan would make it the focal point of a tune about a small town eatery
Picasso would paint a story of deliciousness mired in loneliness
Randolph would pick it up with both hands and gulp it down

I know it's hard right now, love but take care of yourself
We just have to make it out of this living Hell.
If you hold on, ill hold on too
We can do this together
Trust me, I do.
I know its tempting to take a walk to the Gates
Of the Spirits, but With you alive and well
We can feel Mississippi again.
Just hold on, hold on the Girl with the Blue Bandana.

An ocean of thoughts
My lonely ship sail
Collide with the iceberg
It is so you
So sharp and so cold
Wrap my metal around
The heaviness of us both
Rusted and old
Meets new and bold
Contrast is tragic and beautiful
We were brought here by waves
To crash to sink and to fail
Let us submerge together

i like angry poetry
the kind that churns
in your gut,
with razors for teeth
and gums bleeding.
i like the violent sound
of verbs clashing
on a decaying page,
like the shot of a gun
on a quiet day.
i like the poetry that stays,
that lies in waiting
like a dog in a cage,
words that creep like
voided birds into the
wired tress of my brain,
that pay their rent
like drunken travelers
and trash the place.
i like angry poetry
the kind that sears it's
screams to my lips,
which spirit echoes and
moans for eager,
****** eyes.
words that hit like *****,
giving their reader
a killer hangover.
i like angry poetry,
the kind that leave you
with a smoky exit.