Honesty is
doing a perfect job
on a blind woman's
hairstyle.

The Earth was ours.

We filled its fertile fields full of
Plants of our own choosing: our own design.
To provide for ourselves we drained the Earth
Because the Earth was ours.

We populated the islands that
The Earth had built for us from its own skin.
Like parasites we kept it alive for our needs
Because the Earth was ours.

Then one day the Earth spoke:

You who crawl over my face,
Unthinking for the blemishes you build.
You till my skin and plough my bones, you drink
My tears and feast on my flesh. Slowly, my fiery
Vengeance has brewed, bubbled upwards
And wrath shall be known.

It will begin as a rumbling.
You will think I tremble with terror at your might
But the movement of your monuments is more my
Laughter at your lowliness. The hallways of your houses
Will be hewn by themselves as my body convulses to be rid of the
Sickness of you. You will sound your two-tone Armageddon sirens
In vain as my thunderous thoughts tumble your towers
Fragment your foundations. Break your brick walls.
Stone on stone will spark, igniting infrastructure
And your cities will burn.

But it is just the beginning.

I will bury you.
I will bury you in the fire of my fury.
I will bury you in the ashes of my anger.
You will solidify, screaming, into silent stone.
You will choke, child-like, on my smoke.
You will die by my hand: your home.
And I will bury you.

And this to me is easy.
I am greater than all you build from
My body. So I use my body to wreak ruin:
Reduce your greatness to rubble and dust
Because the Earth was always mine.
I was always my own.

The optimistic outcome of your heart
The soul that wand'ring by everybody
Imagine that no one sees you
Dance like you've got the spot light
Sing like you will loose your breath
Play in the rain like those children from the streets
Eat like you own a bucket of restaurants
Go in the library and read your favorite books
Go to the beach and play in the sand
Go to the park and walk step by step
Feel the air, the people around you, the railing of the train, the busy stop light
And by the time you can pass through the limit
then make a shout out to yourself
On top of the roof top,
Relieve the stress inside
and walk again in the corridor
like nobody's watching you.

And I ~ for you

And I ~ cling to a fortress
of endless temptation
with rings made of gold
and a tree built of life

Faltering corners
in new found dimensions
a little left over
but so very nice

Clinging to them

And I ~ search in a fountain
with quarters for feelings
so far neath the waters
my song sings alone

On sea shells and posters
of rock concert heroes
with hair like a Sheppard
to call the sheep home

Calling to all

And I ~ call to the mountains
in echoes of sailors
with waves in the morning
and snowcaps at night

Floating horizons
alone on the wishes
that winds will prevail
and make everything right

Sailing again

And I ~ lean on a valley
of tree lines and saucers
with cups filled with coffee
to taste when it’s due

With smiles forever
and words down on paper
with love as my meaning
I write them ~ for you

*Please hear my call

**** you, she says
Smiling between sobs.
You made me stop
Crying.

Tingle

Melodies ~ ringing on soft cool winds,
dangling from tiny strings in metallic forms
Swaying in harmony with your smile
reflecting the mid day sun
in glimmering highlights of whipped cream whispers
on wings of stained glass dreams

For it was that day you kissed me,
for the very first time ~
(When buttercups blushed as I held them to your chin)
and my lips tingled, unending,
understanding this was more than just a touching of skin,
a melted meeting of two

~Music called to us from the branches above,
serenading our hearts in sweet blissful sounds
on soft grasses, fingers intertwined~

Your eyes, hypnotized me there, in that place
and you kissed me again…this one held
Passion breathing, love had found me
coiled about me and clung to me
On that day, unlike any other
I could imagine…I fell for you

Now as cool winds blow
and leaves cascade in multicolored waves
That wind chime, suspended from that old maple rings,
singing sweetly of that first kiss,
a musical remembrance of that day
of which no reminder needs due ~ for my lips they still tingle