into fragments or memories pieces
of this
shards of that
Many broke
*******
yellow
yell
black

white
sight
blinded
sighted
in tiny remnants
on the floor.
It is a travesty
or comedy
trying
to puzzle
this interlocking
riddle, or
solve
and paint the whole
picture.

A poem
is quite like,
a life.

aren't real.

Love is only an ideal
a belief we live
and never achieve.

But love stories we need.

Only its conjured spirit
makes some sense

of our existence!

To stand in balance and connection
With the Earth
To stand on one's one
Without depending on anything
Not leaning on a wall for a breakthrough

To breathe on one's own
To breathe fully
Lungs
Blossoming and shriveling
Without the intake of
Toxic fumes
Or liquid rage
Not leaning on a vessel for a
Breakthrough
Attached to now
Love without borders
To be here and smile
Love outside conditions
Or held in the claws
Of expectations
to be here without an excuse
Or a divided idea to fall into

Even if this life
Just spins lives upside down
Simply because it can
Even if after everything
The world has evolved
To explodes in the Sun
Even if life doesn't have
A greater meaning than this
Moment
Even if our legacies
And our pain
Never mattered
Even if we die
And meet death
With blackness
And indifferent regeneration
One day our story will be
Forgotten
And we will never truly know
All the small details
That brought our atoms together

All of our ancestors within us
Encouraging us to stand
And breathe on our own
The animal kingdom
IS
And does not ask questions
All we have to do is look up
To know where it all began
The moon has all the answers
The stars we are made of
Will us to shine
Without illusory fuel
We are stronger than mental reasons
Subject to change at the blink
Of perception
We do not have to give
Our power away
We do not need motivation
To create
We are and it is a miracle
Enjoy the phenomena
That is the all
Expanding evermore
Towards infinity
This is where Existentialism  
Meets Spirituality

The green detached from the mountain
Follows the movement of the caught sweetfish.

Sleep drifts heavy,
a fog, a mist, a shroud,
yet You cling to my mind

Like the last breathe of a cigarette,
or the sweet taste of chocolate,
you linger,
a welcome reminder
of the sweetness that graces my mouth

You're there on my lips,
and you linger,
like the hot burn of cinnamon candy,
or the cold bite of Winter's kiss.

In every sweet taste,
or sharp bite,
you linger