In the care of warmth
I lost the tarnished nature
jagged spittle
Black snakes writhing
The Doom ov virtue
This care wears me down
Softening the edges of
My brittle soul.
Chasing affection like a child,
Weakened by a state of want.
I am not this
Just a form that flows —
Adrift on chaos limb.

I hear the Angel's call out to me
said God has chosen me to see
the things He wanted me to be
when my heart was filled with regret
the Angel's said I wasn't done just yet
it was only part of His plan
to make you into a different man
and when my heart was in doubt
I heard the Angel's through me shout
said God hasn't left and never will forget
He only has a will for you to do
yeah He's there to see you through
and when I felt the love in me die
I heard the Angel's cry
as their tears fell from the sky
saying God will forever by you stand
just reach out and take His hand
Spiritwind ©2016

There are no right answers.
The sky rejects the birds, turns them
over to gravity,
embedding them in the concrete and dirt.
The grit refuses to become a pearl,
just as the wound refuses to heal
and the flesh eats itself.
The market sees a sudden spike in
sales of Champagne and cyanide.
Coordinated efforts seek and fail
to curtail the rising tide of violence
in the nation's dreaming.
You realise that this crude, barbaric language
that you can't understand
is your own.
Beauty glitches and pixelates.
Frightened, furtive confessions of love
are unheard over proud, visceral
proclamations of hate.
Tongues divorce mouths.
Every now and then, a voice
inside your head says,
'Thud.'
The measures of sanity become
more quantifiable and
totally arbitrary.
The horizon
tightens
like
a noose.

It doesn't matter if this is wrong.
There are no right answers.

I watch the water
beam from the sun
and that is what you call
making love
The Earth is the greatest poet I know.
I pluck at her expression
every so often
merely attempting
to translate her lyrics
into something,
just something
we can all feel and understand