thanks for tuning in
i hope that you like my station
this is where i haul my load
this is where i dump frustration

tonight on the show
there will be lots of laughter
when i speak about pain
when i speak about disaster

Golden warmth of sun doodled
Something on her cheek.
Like the resurrection of soft dawn in Alaska,
Gradually she opened her cheery eyes
And whispered inside my numbness,
“I can make colours fly.”
Slumber shattered into pieces of bliss
As she entangled the tenderness
Of her fingers, and
Her palms in synthesis,
And made it fly like a mythical butterfly.
My amused self asked her curiously,
“Where are the colours?”
Holding her dancing butterfly
Infront of my eyes
She replied in a honeyed voice,
**“Those are flying amidst your insight.”

precious innocent soul
skipping rocks
on cobblestone roads
vulnerable untarnished pure
no residue of earthly soil

return me to that naiveté
unburdened by layers
of fake masks
and perfect capped teeth
in narcissistic societies

but I shan’t grasp
at ethereal edges
of nebulousness
and ephemeral
innocence

i shall endure
what I abhor
a master’s soul
cannot be forged
in paradise

wisdom’s essence
‘tis not pristine white
hints of ivory
tinge the effervescence
of the sage’s breath

©2016janetaylor