One day I was walking across the sea,
And a broken man came up to me.

One day I jumped over the world's highest mountain,
And met a healing man by the crystal fountain.

One day I walked through all the stars in the sky,
And the man I'd fixed did not pass by.

One day I struggled over soft, yielding sand,
And the world's strongest man came to give me a hand.

One day we both strode into the setting sun,
For we had fixed others, and our work was done.

They say many things.
They say,
Don't judge a book by its cover,
Yet they always choose the same.
They say,
Do as you would be done by,
Yet ignore the poor the same.
They say,
Money is the root of all evil,
Yet it kills them all the same.
They say,
More sinned against than sinning,
Yet crime lives all the same.

They say many things,
The whispering snakes,
That live inside our heads,
That make everything perfectly rational;
*Just do the right thing instead.

When the child is born,
you can cry.

When the sun rises,
you can cry.

When the stars shine,
you can cry

When the world turns,
you can cry

yes you

you can cry

cry right now

for the miracle that is life

for science

for love

for hope

you can cry

I am tired
All you get's
Three little
Syllables

And I'll tell
Tell you now
That they aren't
"I love you. "

strange
                how
                        my
                               heart*

                            Broke.

Is it not ironic
   that to be grateful
        for what we have

*we must first lose it all?

→→→→→It doesn't matter←←←←←
             What                       you
           Do in                            life
          And                 ­              death
         And       inbetween        them;
         At            the end             of the
          Day       the wheels        keep
           On                                 going
           Round                         and
               So the                wheels
                  Just keep turning.

Method:

- A stroke of luck
- A lick of a smile
- A restaurant bill
- And the extra mile

Whisk until creamed.

- A gram of trying
- A hopeful sneaked kiss
- A hug, nothing more
- And some moments of bliss

Crumble and sprinkle into the creamed mixture.

- A tear or ten
- A perverse revolt
- A trying time
- And a pinch of salt

Add to the mixture and beat until stiff.

Leave to simmer on a low heat and hope it doesn't boil away.

And though I love you,
It's not how you want me to.

And though I smile at you,
It's not how you want me to.

And though I kiss you,
It's not how you want me to.

And though I'm here for you,
It's not how you want me to.

I love you as a sister -
It's not how you want me to.

I smile at you as a friend -
It's not how you want me to.

I kiss you as a sister -
It's not how you want me to.

I'm here for you as a friend -
It's not how you want me to.



And so -
how do you want me to love you that I can do?

And as all living things
crumbled before me

I saw the end as it
should never have come

And the guilt of knowing
that I was at fault

That was the end of
love's lie.

Isn't every life
                 Fragile?
Isn't all love
                  Fragile?
Aren't we all
                  Fragile?

And as we're all
                  Fragile,
If hope is so
                  Fragile,
Then how do we
                Survive?

Hope flies beside you as you run,
                                                       a lithe body loping at your side, snarling in delight, protecting.

Hope lies beside you as you sleep,
                                                        a warm creature alive at your side, rumbles with love, protecting.

Hope rides beside you as you love,
                                                         a strange undeniable force of equality, no restraints, protecting.

r u o k?

i c

r u?

ic

r u a q t?

o, o k.

i c.

r u u?

o i c.

i c u,

l i k u c a q t!

o k?!

r u ok?

o, i c.

SometimesIlookoutofthewindow
And                  Iwo            ­   nder
Ifwe                  eve               ndes
Erve                  this               beau
tiful                   pla                netw
Edidnothingtoearn,andtrytolooka
Tev      ­             ery                thing
Alit                   tleb               itdiffe
Ren                   tlyt               hanI'd
Bee                   nta                 ught
AllmylifeonthiswonderfuloldEarth

Do you ever wonder
                                  If there's love left on this Earth?

Do you ever wonder
                                  If it's been drained of mirth?

Do you ever wonder
                                  Why the world is cold and still?

Do you ever wonder
                                   Why winter lovers catch a chill?

Do you ever wonder
                                   When an adult becomes "old"?

Do you ever wonder
                                   When children grow so bold?

Do you ever wonder
                                  How skies became so grey?

Do you ever wonder
                                  How a mockingbird's young play?

Do you ever wonder?
                                  Of this I cannot see.

But I know you'll never wonder
                                                     How much you love me.

They seem so lazy,
As if aimlessly wandering.

In reality,
They are searching.

For the blooms,
With the power to save their family.

And in a single breath,
They would sacrifice themselves.

For the well-being of the hive,
But never a single flower.

Always they scheme,
Plotting to find the best blossoms.

The best sustenance,
To give life to the hive that raised each bee.

But however beautiful and sweet,
The bees will never sacrifice themselves for a flower.

And I wonder,
As they sting me and I cry out at my pain and their deaths.

I wonder if perhaps,
The birds and the bees aren't too different at all.

First the child, who squeals at the foaming waves and sniffs the salt in the air, distracted and amazed by the colours of the sand.
Then, the teen, trying to hide carefree bliss behind hair fondled by the sea breeze.
Suddenly, the proud parent, presiding over all and remembering the days when they were but a child theirself.

First the child, clutching their plastic ***** and diving into the soft, scorching powder.
Then, the teen, who sighs in apparent derision whilst hiding the longing to play.
Suddenly, the exhausted parent, buried and towed and made to inspect various pits of faith.

First the child, clumsily scooping handfuls of damp, soothing grains.
Then, the teen, sighing and crouching to help whilst decreeing helping is not "playing".
Suddenly, the knowing parent, catches the eyes of them both and nods a nod of serenity.

First the child, studding twisted shells like wavering mountains dotted across a globe by a clumsy god.
Then, the teen, rolling their eyes as they arrange a symmetrical formation of emotion.
Suddenly, the grinning parent, watching as two formidable castles become a fortress of hope.

And then?

The tide

Took them all

Away

And the castle's glittering flag washed calmly against the shore.

Until

The child

Could come

Again

And there it waits still...next to the misshapen lump of sand that was once a fortress of dreams.

It seems to me
That the most beautiful people
Are not the ones who do not mock ugliness in others

But delude themselves
That none rests in them

If all we do
Is in preparation for the future,
Then does it indeed
Make sense
That those who

Live in the moment

Are those with the worst lives?

If we all blame each other
For the things we could have
Would have
Should have done
Then how
Is there
A hope in hell that
Anything will ever get done?

And we sighed as one
As the mighty forests
Mountains
Oceans
One by one they fell
One by one we sighed
And all drift on the breeze
Of man's success

Of oil and poision
Of undeserved power
And maybe
One day
The Earth will rule
Alone
Free
And cold

As we sigh,
And the world is lost
And hope slips away
Until love is all that
Remains
Forevermore

It is
Simply
Another
Day.

A day
Made for
Businessmen
And toy-makers.

It has no
Significance
In our world
Unless.

You are one
Of those who
Have loved
And lost.

And I pity
Anyone else who
Tries to
Symbolize it.

For I am
Not one of
Those people
So I am willing.










To let it be.

Is a house
A home?
I think not.
Are the enterwining
Chunks of brick
And stone and
Plaster a house?
I think so.
But are they
A home?
I think not.

And so we come full circle.

The window
So cold
Though the
Air is warm
And still

They were
                 tired
                 quite young
                 adults
climbing the mountain of emotion. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 always hardworking
                 students
climbing the mountain of success. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 still excited
                 children
climbing the mountain of discovery. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 keys tapping
                 quietly
climbing the mountain to poetry. Tired.

The mountains
Grew together

As I fell, unknowing,
                                 For you.

And the mountains
Crumbled together

As I fell, lost,
                    From you.

And the mountains
Sighed together

As I fell, broken,
                          Past you.