Books
        F
          A
             L
              L
                    Open
  
And you fall in.

What is this? Oh what is this?
My word, my Love, I thought I’d missed!
And in the darkened depths of deep,
I saw no light, but dreams in sleep.

Yet, hark! The blinding light of day,
For from the depths, I’d come away!
And in the water, pure and clean,
I float so softly down a stream.

Alas, thought I, must be a vision,
dream of Sublime with great precision.
As my heart sank, so did my body,
(subconscious world should be so haughty)

I struggled soft, now sitting straight,
the word around did not abate.
I looked in awe, what should I see?
My love there standing, smiling at me.

I ran to him, tears flying so,
we fell beneath the tulips, low.
We laughed and cried,
Groaned and died,

Beneath the flowering cherry tree,
Beside the stream, singing to me,
Below the sky of dreams to be,
Betwixt the tulips, thousand three.

Could this be true? Oh how are you!
I ask my Love, facing the sky.
He turns to me, his face is blue,
Shocked, but still, I ask not why.

And out of silence, this I hear,
disturb’d water, splashing thus;
I turn to look, and this I fear,
a darkened demon; run, I must.

Yet petrified I do remain,
the greatly grinning gargoyle barks,
I clutch my Lover’s hand in vain,
for he, still blue, is frozen, stark.

“What shall we have for dinner, say?”
Was demon’s question to be solved.
“I must ask you to go away!”
He cackles loud at my resolve.

And flies to me, hands ‘round my neck,
Somehow, now, my Love is gone.
Should I have kept my heart in check?
For love is what demons dine on,

Beneath the flowering cherry tree,
Beside the stream, singing to me,
Below the sky of dreams to be,
Betwixt the tulips, thousand three.

Tame the river,
build a dam.
Plow your fields,
control the land.
Build your homes
and towns and roads;
Tell the river
where to flow.

Man is stronger.
Man is smarter.
You know this to be true.
So the challenge the Earth
with all your forces;
Show her what Man can do.

Boundaries don't mean anything;
Not up against Man's machines.
Mountains crumble,
deserts bend
to Man's will,
means to an end.

Shatter the forests.
Suppress the tides.
Tear the soil.
Rip the skies.
Concrete kingdoms--
build a perch
from which you'll watch
as you destroy the Earth.

You show the Earth
what Man can do.
You make her better
but jokes on you.
For Earth is the substance
from which you're made.
If you poison the world
you won't be unscathed.

The Earth is old and wise
and patient.
The Earth will persist
even if you don't make it.

don't you dare sneer
and walk away from me
as if we meant nothing
as if i were nothing
to you

you were a planet
to me
now you are dust

how dare you call my poetry dust
how dare you brush away my love
like dust

saying*  *i love you  out of habit vs. **meaning it

The outsider is inside,
Inside the house, staring from the crusted window,
The latch calls to her in rusty tones.
She stares upon its existence,
wishing nothing more than to answer.

But the outsider, she is inside,
Her back turned to what she’s built,
Her eyes upon those who are outside,
Can they save her? Would they care to try?

Her elbow rests upon the dusty sill,
Eyes glossy like Rapunzel, the Golden One,
But she has grown old inside the house,
she has grown blind and deaf and dumb.

The outsider, she once wished,
to leave the depths of her understanding,
to venture into the clashing world,
to face the blatant nature of love,

But the outsider, she is inside,
over much has cried, died and lied.
The weight of gravity holds down the fort,
and her as well; she doesn’t fight.

She holds the hope she’ll someday be tempted,
to leave that which protects her so,
to venture through the grimy view,
lifted by that which holds her low.

The outsider, she’s still inside,
Forever more, should she still hide,
You could say that she should have tried,
She wanted to, with all her pride
To leave that which keeps her inside.
To leave that which keeps her inside.

Upon walking slowly from my despair,
I saw a turn’ed leaf.
Amongst the others, dark and rounded,
This one sat soundly,
Inverted,
Displaying bones and veins
For all to see.
Vulnerability is not the culprit
it’s been made out to be,
For the leaves seemed natural;
In chorus, their colored-symphony.
Were they all upright,
Green and bright in shining glory,
One might think it a picture
From a children’s story.
I sigh,
Gazing to the sky as I walk,
Farther, and farther away,
To felids unknown, but surely shown,
To my heart, I say,
“Let thyself be turned.”

i wish we started differently
and ended just the same