Sleep, sweet memories,
Let all your fears be rest.
Engage your dreams with frivolries,
For all your heart knows best

Rain brings life
And sun brings warmth,
Wind blows away all fears

The stars will guide
And shadows hide,
Night cloaks you from all fears.

In the middle of the night I pretend
With my make believe glitters
And shoes filled with spiders,
That I could be Cinderella
On that night before the ball.

Only with invisible step sisters
And God mother who never came.
-I didn't particularly care
About the prince!

The moon is only a fantasy to me.
In life it seems so cold,
So distant,
Like numb fingers chipped ice
And flung it into the void
And it froze there,
Among lonely stars eternally far away,
Almost lost to the dark.

The exquisite blend
Of paint
Melting off the palate

The past unfurls
With silver memories
Like messy cloth,
Tarnished or frayed;
Each life woven with yours
And so many paths crossing
Twining over and under
A stitch dropped, or added
Shadowed or shining
And all being woven
With the thread you are spinning,
Spinning,


Spun

Steel grey streets
Wool grey sky
White-gold tree,
It's fall branches high
Silver beads cascade
Ink puddles collide
Crystal rivers parade
As though the white-gold cried

Jewelled dragons
Hover on glass wings,
Caressing the silky air
In an irredecent cascade
And rapidly ponders
The sky

A crystal sun shines brighter
To crystal eyes
Than any golden sun ever could.

The ends of my fingers trail dust,
Creating forgotten memories,
And leaving no trace,
No fingerprints,
Just the dusky film of the setting sun,
That shadow-gold twilight
And my reflection in broken mirrors

The rooms spins as I tilt my head back,
I see lightning behind my eyes
The floor rocks like stormy water
I waver, pudding arms shake,
Gripping the wall for strength
My belladonna fingers limply clentched
The silent thunder fading
The frozen storm waning,
And back to reality I go....

Morning indigo
Floods my room and washes
Cool ink streaks on my skin
It swirks and eddies around me
The watery green gold light trickles in.
In, to my morning water paradise

Who will save me in the dark?
When there is no light to find,
How could they see my broken heart?
Or ease my lonely mind.

I am no light, oh not me
Though maybe once before,
I am adrift on a stormy sea
Beyond the darkest shore

Though chilly is my gentle dark,
It will not burn or scold.
And softly to my tender heart
It's cold smooth hand takes hold

Here, I get by quite well
Adrift with aimless ease,
My sweet voice joins the muted bell,
I dance with whispers in the breeze

I'll be the quiet between clock ticks,
The tremor in your lies,
The clear around lit candle wicks
The memory in your eyes

Sharp hands
Grasping at the light like straws
But the light drips though
the sharp fingers
Rolls down the Bony wrist
Falls
And puddles on the floor,
Like inverted shadows.
Lost, to the longing hands

I open the window
And the cool air glides to the floor,
Waltzing around my room
Sweeping past my ankles like ladies skirts,
While the room above
Leaks off hot air from stifled whispers
Then, the music stops
And the whole room sits
In a swampy,
Soapy silence
Until the clock strikes twelve

Don't get lost in my eyes
I don't want you there,
Don't steal a kiss
It's mine, and wouldn't be fair,
And don't you dare take my heart,
It would be foolish to start
And then would just hurt
In a hole filled with air
And then I'd be empty
And you wouldn't care
So stay out of my head,
**I don't want you there

What beauty today
In a land such as this,
Spinning blue skies
Dizzy from twirling leaves,
Stars in the water
Shining like sunken treasure,
Loose trees shifting
And dripping warm sun down their backs,
And everything, everything alive.
What beauty today,
In this land

The shrine for the unknown god,
Whomever it may be

Her face
Her face is lit
By the candle she holds beneath it
Because she is afraid of the dark
But as the candle burns down
So does she,
But she is afraid of the dark

Leather and whisky smoke
Whisping around yesterday's memories
Curling around your face in a haze
And you
Setting the world ablaze
Leather and whisky, smoke
And ashes shifting
That's you

Time is full of ethereal riches
And I, the thief
Eternally whisper my stolen minutes
So time passes me by

Tender cat
Delicately ponders
Lovingly sits
Playfully wanders
Carefully prances
Silently advances
Enamouredly dances
Eating my glasses...
Cautiously stalks
Trustingly snuggles
My cat (:

Rain
Gives life like angels
Falls without mercy
And storms like angry demons

I live
Among old bandaids
And untold truths,

Soft thoughts
Melting down my face
I'm a disgrace
Head filled with
Haze as fine as lace
Where is this place?
On long nights I trace
Your two lonely eyes
And quivering lips, me
Hello, me, I am you
You trace my quivering eyes
And lonely lips
On long dark evenings
Where blankets trap you
To the asylum of your midnight room
Black so thoughts light up,
My soft thoughts running

   down

I fell from the sky
And landed on the cusp
Of a soft baby feather

Who are we?
Walking around proudly
With our heads to god,
So easily bearing
Satan's hands on our ankles
To drag us down, we
Can fly until the planes crumble
Until the balloons pop
Can climb until the mountains
Cease, but we
Never realized that for all we go up
Must come down,  and
Leave us yearning for the skies again.
So lay flat on the ground
With your eyes to the stars
Give Satan your limbs
And God,  your head and heart

The famous here
Have many followers,
But the wise gather the dreams
Of many

Wet ink curtains press me
Down, sinking into my bed
But delicately raises me like lacy smoke
To hover in a violet cloud;

And such is the way of fairies

Silver tongues, diamond cut,
Artfully place pandering
And articulate acupuncture
Dragging your cheeks up with hooks
Until you are caught by strings
A marionette madly dancing
To another's fine sour tune

Battered whispers of fake truths
Snarl through innocent ears
And bend unwilling hearts.
It's a song as sweet as poison
And bitter as glass eyes.

How many tears are in my pillow
And how many in my brain,
How many in my heart
And how many in my name

And you
Anchor the shifting mists of haze
Ablaze in my mind

The unknown is comforting in the thought,
That for all the bad that may come,
There is just as much good

And thus, I do not fear the future

There is good rhythm in
Flawless, but broken words
Songs strung by birds in the rain
Spider silk trains of honeyed pain,
Love comes from delusions
Or straight from the soul
Ready to mend you or bend you
Or make you whole

I've run my fingers over the faces
of many men
Touching, yes, but trying so hard to feel
With my own numb heart
It is calloused from use, yes,
but no less tender
So I reach out my hands
And run my fingers over countless faces
As I try to feel again

Wooden love,
Forgotten like old bones
And memories

XxXx

Lies settle uneasily on her skin
Like thick perfume choking
All who are near

XxXx

Wisps of dust
Curl into the rising air
Like invisible smoke

XxXx

Exquisite telling
Of the corpse;
Sparkling wine and cold fingers

XxXx

Do not touch
the shameless broken glass
That lie like crushed diamonds

XxXx

Two buses
Full of empty people
Pass blindly

XxXx

Rising towers of ice
A complex of cages,
And we call it beautiful

XxXx

This is the way the world ends
(World ends, world ends)
Not with a bang but a whisper

XxXx

Because we are the hollow men
And there is never rest
For a lost boy

My grandmothers skin is pickled rainbows
Bright from life, and crumpled with use
Every painstaking line a story
Of her joys and sorrows;

The day she met my grandfather
Her first day of school
Stealing cookies from the jar
The day she had my mother,
The day her mother passed on.
Riding horses,
Colder winters,
Cheaper candy,
Family picnics in summer,
And sneaking out of the house ...

My grandmother is beautiful,
And I love every story
That her rainbow shows.

My arms flung wide
Head flung back
And my eyes are closed
I'm floating in black
I'm waiting for that hand
To pull me out
Of this strange land
But I'm also fine waiting,
Here is smooth and calming
Not bad, or mad like passion is
But rather a darkness balming
The sores from the last man who tried

Mind shifting
Wet face feircly dripping
Puddles and puddles of wax
Spectacular mind attacks
Twisting and churning
And missing and yearning
And waiting for something,
Not sure what, you're tiring
Crumple in slowly from the weight
And finally succumb to the endless fate

Honeycomb mazes
And sweet honey hazes
Thickly sweet, mind glazes
Confused, smoke blazes
Making a home unconscious races
Falling asleep in honeyed cases
Trusting those honeyed faces
Gold drips away from honeyed places
And left with confined spaces
Wax rooms, so smooth
And no longer honeyed, but true.
*wake up

Gently I watch from the dark
Pushing up a thin tissue front
Into the harsh light.
It wavers in the breeze, yes,
But let's through some honeyed light
Enough to twine my fingers through
And pour into me with life
My sheild from the burning,
Men with claws scratch, boring holes
That burn before my tissue can close,
And a sore, stinging soul
But the dark will wash it away
With tears and hope,
Innocence before it opens its eyes
To the light.

Mint tea and lazy mornings
Dust motes drifting
Sun slowly lifting
Cotton brain
Coffee stain..
Ready to go
(On the outside)

Long car trips
Crowded with junk
And cramping legs
Flashing light streaming through the window
Into the muggy car air,
A trapped fly banging on the glass,
Low rumbling like gravel thunder
And bursts of shaking
Rattling teeth and seatbelts
When you roll over stones
Wisps of vented air
Curling around your naked toes,
And sweaty, rumpled clothes.
Skin sticking to fake leather seats
The slight sifting sick in your belly
Sitting fat like a toad,
And hoping the stuff in the back
Isn't shaking or breaking apart
From the crunching washboard gravel,
And drowsy eyes, tired from endless trees
Slowly drift until you arrive in the dark

The hard-packed gravel road in the woods
Winds and twists and meanders
And is lined on either side by sun-lit dusty branches
And thin twining trees with more leaves than trunk
Which turn into standing logs, tall and thin and dappled,
Branches high, dusky and shifting light,
Or a charred forest of once-was pointing out the sky
Or fields of soft baby pines in the sun,
Sometimes clearing to show
The sharp gentle curve of mountains
Rising green and falling blue,
Fuzzy edges of pine lining,
Slowly obscured again by one tree, then two
Then a small forest of thin trees
And dusty sunlit bushes
Lining a meandering, twisting, winding
Hard-packed gravel road in the woods

The slow, smooth, slick of ice
Runs down cold iron bars
Snapping cackling dry grass
Crunching under every step
Loosing momentum, shedding its vice
Freezing wet my fingertips
Electric cold, my fingers slip
Down the bar of ice
To meet the maker of its own device

The thin, slim, smooth-rough
Tall, tall with flecks of fluff
Sparse, pale, dark and tough
Dry, dead, but alive enough
Tree grows by the road