I dreamed the dream of life
it’s glowing lights reflected off of
flowing streams, a magnifier ray
That blinds my sight.

I’ve walked through worlds imagined
filled with honey suckle and cutting thorns,
a vision I’d always seen tilted sideways,
blurred and hazy.

The sky shifts as the clouds continue on,
I stand planted here and study
their drifting motion, a steady crawl from
this day on to the next.

I dreamed the dream of life
and saw shadowed fingers gripping
a glossy door, opening it slowly, a dark
head slowly revealing itself around the corner,
eyes pointed down in shy approach.

A nightmare, a dream of thrashing discontent
a figure sits by the bedside, his legs crossed
scribbling thoughts on his notepad,
An unsure diagnosis and prediction
Of the yet to come and destined to pass.

I dreamed the dream of life
and I was shown collisions, barriers destroyed
by speeding bullets blurring with velocity and
crashing violently, exploding in a flash,
a strike that sends me reeling backwards
falling to the my hands and knees
coughing blood, it’s ruby drip puddling
on the ground below.

I dreamed the dream of life
And it was all I could ever do,
It was all I ever could see
a shimmering veil over eyes crinkled,
the smile withered by all of time
and time left to be.

Blinding light with hands outstretched
A silhouette dances on the horizon.
It beckons me, with hinting grin etched lips,
To follow, so I grip her hand and on we fly.

Soft warmth caresses my skin as the light surrounds,
Harp song flows as smoothly as river sound.
Eyes turn and smiles break
Carving the faces of paint I've seen
In my visions of the Sistine.  

Those high walls stagger above me,
But the gates stand ajar.
The moat forded and oak doors entered
But no harp song drifts within these walls.

Cold stone meets feet as my
Hand bearer retreats.
A gaze cast back, met with doleful eyes
And a nod to enter on.

So on I cast my senses,
Until upon an ornate throne they rest.
Crafted in shimmer, white with golden hues,
Hand rests embedded with artisan jewels.

A throne worthy of Zeus,
Yet skies of lightning do not greet.
The seat sits vacant,
Webbed stones of an owner long gone.

In a fit I turn,
The light fading from those arching windows.
I reach out for the hand,
A clawing search for reassurance
But solitary I stand,
In this abandoned Palace of eternity
With a vacant throne so grand.

Single entities we are,
alone in our galleys
sailing solemnly along the vast expanse
of this glittering sea.

Our eyes meet along the waves,
but both are veiled,
caught within our ferries,
a barrier between.

But if my boat meet water
as does yours
are we not connected
with hands used as oars?

new light yellow dawn dew on leaves
crease in seams torn sow sow them back
glow through black glow into the night
yellow light white light bird flight owls hoo
at the party I took something that made the stars dance for me
that made the wind speak
that made my heart leap to meet my mind a stiffening spinal column
avert my gaze I’m shy I cannot hold
the connection the link of pupil to pupil dilation
annihilation the end, atoms spreading up the wall
until it’s pulled back to black to white light
plug in my night light and tuck my bed right
and sleep snooze snore softly floating into void, ceaseless night

A feather falls slowly, arching downward,
swaying from left to right,
curving from side to side.
I rock my head alongside, tracing its path
as it floats on air so light so soft.
To reach and catch and hold its white
texture in hand
or to watch solemnly as it drops to the
ground?

Illusions dance before our eyes
for we see how we think to see,
soliciting our growing fantasy.
What appears to be to what is
becomes lost in amateur's translation.

A chameleon's shade cloaks green
when a predator's eye is on the prowl.
Shaped to our reality, we adapt to breathe,
we see what we need to see,
to continue growing our fantasy.

And at its peak,
The act is bought! The drama continues
and the script is dutifully rehearsed,
fooling even myself to think
That I could be Hamlet,
the coward prince,
and her my Ophelia but breathing,
from the words I am reading,
printed on a blank sheet of paper in
Times New Roman, font twelve.

This empty road leads on to the horizon
where the ground rises to meet the sky,
Becoming lost in his twinkling star-eyes,
secure within his encompassing embrace.
Or
The sky lays slowly into the Earth’s comforting
Arms and hills and scented colors of spring,
Burying his face, drowning in a lovers trance,
Nuzzling as close as possible,
But only allowed to truly touch
at the ever-shifting horizon
the end of human perception.

I circle around a seething pit,
rimmed in despair,
as a vulture hungrily around it’s edge.
Vainly I look up, to the sun
And some days it’s there,
My reasons to be seem firm,
I can smile into the light
But on others it hides and I grow unsure.

On dreary days I can’t help but glance,
A quick sideways shoot, into the pit.
Another look, this time longer,
And I see it’s familiar form beckoning to me.
I see the swirls
Of Tartarus, the awing black,
And now it grabs my full attention.

Ward it off, I say to myself,
Be strong!
Some days this works, much to my delight
On Others the words ring hollow and I am pulled in,
A rope tied in my chest
To the side of the pit,
and I sit, head down in defeat,
on its edge.

It takes everything in me not to go slack,
Relax and fall, fall, fall
Deeper into the apathetic darkness,
Into the grips of senselessness,
The liberation of nothing meaning anything
Of life being a tortured, laborious dream.

On I walk, upon the evaporating cloud
of ever-passing Time.
I would how many tufts of life have gone awry
from my love of staring towards the sky?

On I walk, upon the Cotton Lane.
I think and thought on cloudy days gone,
Now that the Eve of blooming May has arrived.
Desperate steps in crunching snow
with one to pray that today is not our day.
Slipped time and again, on sliding slopes
and shivering mounts, the rocks beneath
leaving itching scabs and swollen bruises,
just as nectar seeps down the stem of a budding rose.

The hanging eyes I closed one final time,
and awoke to morn' of life reborn,
a Cardinal singing melodic tunes by my bedside.
But always spring arrives, my mind begins to ring:

What plights fill my mind, come summertime?
What paths to take,
How sweet to make and
when to sugar arm hold?
Do I truly remember the cold of my winter nights,
when i dump more ice into my Sprite?
Do I actually recall the bone-chattering winds
and sweeping gales at Autumns end,
When on the same breezes kites now fly?

Bar music rings into my ears
and the people dance joyously about.
Their bodies move and tap and fly and laugh,
to the band ferociously playing a snake-charmer's tune.
I stand to join and reach my hand for hand to grip
but the daydream ends and I awake to my room
my mind achingly awake before my body
has the time to stretch or to bloom.

I once heard someone say that
Life is like being aboard a slowly sinking ship
Or trapped in burning building, I cannot remember,
But I believe it is a body left to rot
On the forest floor, steadily feasted on
By maggots and the other feeders,
Decomposed till all that remains
Is an ivory skull with vines growing
Through hollow eye sockets.

I relate to the bottom more than the top
the underside, the ***** and brushed aside,
A pencil broken under a writers heavy hand
as he schemes a way to **** his favorite
character.

I never saw eye to eye with the top.
They move in unfamiliar patterns,
talking in gibberish and doing
the tap dance of jesters.

I relate to the stick man
the half hearted attempt to cure
what we are sick with, or of.
Half shaded in,
eyes different shapes,
A toothless smile on my face.

A scribble of hair, a crooked nose
in a 2D rendition of my own design
drawn on a piece of paper
crumbled up and tossed in the trash.

The man sits on the bank
of the night cloaked lake,
with his feet in the water,
for the time being.

Bright moonlight illuminates his form but
his eyes trace the ripples
he leaves in the water.

The peeling of tangerine shell
Releases its soft citrus smell.

winter’s chilled stillness,
atoms in ice bundling tightly together
senesced trees, rotted flowers
songless birds, misted sunlight
crushed leaf step, a coat tightened

memories or dreams
What is the difference to me
light or illusion
it all seems the same to me
lie in the shade,
count gray clouds and decayed petals

page turn page turn
the pictures keep flipping
damp moisture dripping insistently
consistency, mortality
totality and ending
happen time and again
true end, broken wheel
impossible,
flickering sparks jump from the ash pile

yellow daisy river sways in the breeze
blonde beauty white dress she runs her fingers over the petals
cicada song, buzz on lilac tongue

Blue skies sun peaked over head
No clouds a kiss of wind
Direction, arrows on a compass
Point to where and why
Startled doves rise divides the mind eye
Motion and stillness
Control and fluidity

Seas of swaying green reduced to gray city skylines (the triumphant results of our modern enlightenment)
Slicked oil waters pulse from the refineries, defeated heads held down against the cold winds walk the streets.
Malaise grips the populace,
our attention at every turn deftly averted to the trivial.
Welcome one, welcome all, to the Anthropocene.

Smoke stacks bellowing, pockets full of printed greenbacks thickening,
the overwhelming scents of greed and gluttony bleed into everything.
Throw your trash to the streets, stomp the last embers and smear ash on the wall,
Look around and you will see humanities closing scenes.
Welcome one, welcome all, to the Anthropocene.

It seems in the end truth has left us,
hope has evacuated,
it’s speakers replaced with puppets
That dance and masquerade on taught strings.
Come in my friends, take your seats in the audience,
The show has already begun!
The lights are dimming and the pieces well set,
Welcome one, welcoming all, to the Anthropocene.

Continents ablaze, reduced to decayed black.
The streets of your home flooded,
Mother Nature holding on by a trembling thread,
And in all of our brightest intellect,
We do not reknit the thread.
Instead of reversing our own mistakes, instead of adjusting our sails to the changing winds,
we hold the scissors to that trembling string and begin to cut with a smile.
Manicured life,
Monocultured lawns perfectly maintained through the drought, appearances kept up through the drowning monsoon winds.

Welcome, my dearest friends, to the end of our days, whether you agree to them or not,
Welcome to the first conscious mass extinction, brought to you by the height of human innovation
Welcome, my brothers and sisters, to the Anthropocene.

A stirring breeze, the cracking of twigs
A cup full of wine, overflowing to the brim
Passed around the circle, with my happily chatting friends.

The pops of logs sing ablaze,
As the orange flames slowly fade away.
The friends scatter, each take their leave and bow their heads,
And so begins the inevitable bleed of today
into the coming sunrise of tomorrow.

In the flames flickering shadows I lay,
With the chirping insects I mingle.
Allow me to catch up with my mind,
Become closer to the baton, extend my hand in reach
If even just a little.

They hummed to the tune of Hallelujah,
While passing tools along the rafters.
No harness worn, no rope in sight,
They sing and dance and spit and shout,
On two foot wide boards,
On the side of a concrete mount.

Arms around shoulders, a creaking smile covers my face, a camera with a flash
And stamp on the envelope,
I watch as the colors of now fade into the past.

A shimmering fountain, the water runs over the sides
And the bottom is lined with copper coins.
The water reverses, falling upwards,
A dream I saw once of a haunting tune but in reverse.

Lay down my friend, I pat the dirt beside me
Give me a tether point to grasp, a rope to hold,
Something to catch, to pull me from the trail that never ceases to wind, In on itself in spiraling descent.
I can feel the one beside me start to give me slack.

And down I go, jerking at first, in intervals
And then I am let loose, the spiraling of the coil
As the rope rages between the mechanism
And a final snap as it breaks from my momentum.

The entrance to the maze opens in front of me,
I try to turn my head, my heart pleads and it begs,
But I cannot stop my legs from pushing forward again.
Into the labyrinth, my first few steps echo against the stone walls, as I turn my head and it begins to shift, tossing me to the side and on my back and rolling and sliding, as it laughs
At my vane struggles to find a grip on the smoothed stones.

Oh Janus, oh Choice, the gamblers dumb luck
Which door to choose, which life to live
Which riddle to pick, which answer to find!

A tragic heroine, I watch as the dice they roll
I see it unfold and I know with sighing regret my tale will be told.
A quiet bow and an exit to the right,
I take the steps off the stage and out of the light,
Making my way to the auditorium seats, all packed to the brim, but with space enough for me, and one more after that.

A crowning flame,
the man with the beaming gaze
still wanders down the dreary lane,
with the sky crimsoned by the yawning
sigh of the Sun
as it waves its hand in goodbye.

Medals on the chest, stripes on the collar
are garnish on an ever crumbling tower.
The height once reached,
at the apex he stood
the forest engulfing him
and the chill air flowing around him.

But as he reached his arms high,
at the very apex of his climb
why, why, why
did he still close his eyes?

in the abandoned palace sits an empty Seat
an arching Hall left empty after the retreat,
grab my hand grab my hand
let us depart the hallowed land!

rising Star a tangerine sky
mourning dove's calls echoed across the pond,
dew on blades of grass wove
and filled the endless plain.

I woke up I don't know where today
my exhaled breath fogged and dissipated
into mist, caught on the breeze
gone to who knows where
i haven't heard from one
who goes there.

who knows where
light and life go to hide
as the sun reaches higher into the sky,
a sky that doesn't look the same
from this side of the line

who can know
where the white streams of jets go
as their cutting lines dart across
the light blue canvas and fade away

to be one or the other
a choice like a ripple from a rock
tossed into the tranquil pond
an oasis where the animals come to drink
in the swirling scene of a tangerine sky.

Hephaestus’ hammer meets the Iron Anvil!
A gripping fire, I cannot shed its flame
I long to be and be on from
flipping downhill and and tumbling on.

Gray light becomes brightened by
a hidden Sun, a translucent mist
veiling that winking smile.

These motion blurred images of mine,
this spinning room,
Lines hovering and wavering, shaking.

Time it passes like water it flows
to a repository or blown to mist?
The times I miss when times have swung
I’ve seen the zipping wasp,
It landed on me and stung
I saw it swell I saw it welt
And I watched it zip away.

You read my poem and said you liked it,
Your eyes glowed and you read it twice
It was no surprise when it
became my favorite.
So I wrote another, with the thought of you in mind
But to you it was never shown
And now I can’t help but wonder
if you would like this one too.

Drifting thoughts perched upon silicone stilts,
flatteries passed and mutely wiped away.
Unreal life, my hand drags, moving through
the oil decorated canvas of this moment
That i’ve been painted subtly into.

Blurred lines of leaves reflecting glittering sun
I sit calmly and watch their dance,
jotting notes and thinking of
Shades from black to gray.
A clearing of the throat from behind,
A spell broken mid cast and incantation lost,
to the flowing ever-flowing wind.

A sighing, a release from the hopes of
happiness, exhaling the last remnants of
youths longing for gilded futures.
The stars shine the same, the leaves glitter
on, despite my need to observe.

breathe in, breathe out
breathe in, breathe out
rising heartbeat, panting breath
the ***** echoing off the walls
building in volume,
block by block
note by note
the weighted hands with heavy fingers
slamming the keys in discordant rhythm,
hitting just the wrong keys at the right time
making me wince.

Pressure building buildingbuilding
breatheinbreathout
breatheinbreathout
Is what I tell myself,
In gasping breaths
While gripping grasping my chest
filled with lungs that can’t fill,
In a mind that cannot think.

The conductor looses control of the orchestra,
The instruments screech horribly
As he waves his arms vainly,
Jumping and begging for a stop,
louder and louder the instruments soar.

Breathe in, breathe out
My head falls into my hands
Breathe in breathe out
when will this ever end?

It’s not real (Why)
it’s all in my head
But in my head
it is all so painfully real.

How do I know how to feel?
I try not to dwell,
But the bubble keeps swelling and swelling
In my chest in my heart.
Im sailing but there isn’t a sail,
Im drowning in air,
Climbing a staircase winding
upside down
But yet I don’t fall…how?

I try to take in my surroundings,
I reach out to touch
And my fingers make contact,
An electric shock travels my nerves
An image forms
A sound I didn’t hear,
A sight I couldn’t see,
A voice I recognize
But only through associations
Never ending vibrations.

It’s all unraveling me
Im stuck in a senseless sea
Yet the waves keep hitting
the hull of my ship
Hauntingly rhythmically.

Sparkle sparkle shimmer and flash
the lines of light from leaves never cease
they glimmer and reflect and exude shades of
green I have never seen or could hope to recreate but

The sky the sky yes I see the sky
peeking it’s eye between those flashing leaves
the shades of blue from dawn to dusk
and dusk to dawn and black to blue I
lean back and watch the hues like a
tired father waking and reading his morning
edition but I’ve only seen days subtracted

I’ve never felt one return oh no
where do they go where do they go
I wake up I turn the page I sip my coffee
Where do they go where do they go

Always in the night
you’ll see the lights flashing
through the window in my room.

Home alone on a summer night,
hunched over my desk
or pacing around in circles.
Lost in imagined worlds so grey
grasping at straws of fleeting thought
half of which are left unsaid,
forgotten and unreal.

I thought of something once
and I let it slip away
So I’ve scribed my words ever since.
My phone lights and rings but I flip it over,
Ive had it muted since I was a boy.

Alone alone alone
baby I’m talking to myself again.
I can’t even feel myself again,
the picture sways and shakes
slowly rotating right in front of my eyes.

On empty days I have empty eyes
and I never catch the words they say.
Who are you?
What is this?
Could you please describe the form you saw
In the form of flowing mist?

Don’t call me, I’m sleep walking.
Don’t text me I won’t reply.
I’m laying sprawled with my back to the dirt
trying to pick my place among the stars
a place where I can recline into eternity,
my own place to pace through the heavens.

Shattered glass
The Fallen, the other path
Gathered moss
It’s overdue
Slippery and slimey
But coated, wined in
Shining shining
shimmering substance
But they know me
It has to look like this
I keep moving forward
With mushed moss
And over growth
At my boots
And treetop
Clouded lights
For my eyes

Stuck, caught in the middle of
thought-crossed intersections
of the city during rush hour.

Headlights veer and blind,
horns shriek loudly and people yell
Shaking their fists from their windows.

This is all fine, livable,
if not for the times where the cars
do not narrowly miss,
Or a driver swerves, distracted and remiss and
the cars crash, collide, and clog
the roads, making me wince.
The solid impact and burning flash of pain,
my forehead hit squarely with a wrench.

the same the same the days the same
loops in twirls in rounds and rounds
the same the same
the game played the same in shame
the same the same it’s quite the same
as it was and as it wasn’t untamed
the same the same in flames in ash
the same the same in frost in love
the same the same the nights the same
the sane insane same lane blue days
accept the days the same the same
it rains it shines it pours they snore
the same the same the lines the same
at shores in reefs on mountains in sheets
the same the same the effortless same
in heat in frost in bliss in loss
the same the same it goes on the same
play the game the rules you know
the same the same the days the same
in shame with a kiss indeed I insist
the same the same we all bleed the same

In this empty space I reach out my hand
to grasp the silken veil draped over our snow globe.
I run my fingers over its surface,
It babbles as a brook flows in between
my fingers.

Scenes constantly shift, disappear and reappear
on its surface and as I grasp the material
it crumples like an old picture crushed in disdain.
I inhale slowly, filling my lungs,
and yank the covering off
in one quick motion.

It collapses inward, being pulled towards my grasp.
The scene's decay, all fade to black one be one
and the material grows course and heavy,
piling on the ground and revealing
revealing
revealing

the deepest, most consuming black
a color so dark it seemed to absorb all light
devouring it and demanding more
and laughing all the while.

My breathing speeds
and I turn
stuck in the consuming black.

Dance on wind,
Elope with sky.
Breathe in mind,
Unfold, open
as the gulls fly.

Coastal breeze,
I close my eyes
Feel the cool on my face,
Untether, let it take me where it may
With a smile sprouting upon each gust.

Touch tone Speech disabled
Truth relabeled, Fantasy Endured
Story book fable world
watch as pages they turn
(It All Passes)

Rip fall far from the book, paper back
Held loosely, ruined by constant rain
The muddy side of a forgotten river.
(Isolated Inspiration)

Ink bleeds to puddles, swirls down the drains
Be be be I must remind myself
Just be
(Becoming Brings Pain)

Fiend life, Up under the Moon and Starlight searching
For anything, fleeting symbols of the thrill,
Lust to set out, before the dust settles
Before the sun rises,
The sweet taste of the next to offset
The bitter taste of Before.
(Distractions Never Work)

Under a hex, encased in shimmering shields
Of my own sight and experience
My own processed thoughts
And left wherever the puddle dries up,
(Elysium)

I dance in a field of honey Lilac
A giddy laugh escapes behind my smile
Like the Fool, on top of the mountain
One foot on solid rock
the other suspended in the air
Leaning forward,
my eyes lost in the sights
Of an ever illusion skyline.
(Chase In Vain, You Stubborn Fool.)

Tottering at the cusp on the brink
Floorboards in the night hear the creaks
A *** overfilled and it’s constant leak,
Minds connecting, a dangling link
Blinking blinking light shrinking shrinking

Line splitter the vultures pecking at my liver
Time quitter satellite eyes swimming above the river,
Lit by moonlight, desert sand dunes and their silver shimmer

Wind on the Sahara and behind the sky
Sits the great tailor plucking at the seams
Knocking and shaking the supporting beams
And sending bricks falling and smashing
Into the floorboards of the empty room
With a porch overlooking the swaying ocean

Every step I take
Is to escape the latching chains
Of human utility and efficacy
The working man comes home worn
Sore and hungry (emptiness is the source of vice, sin, and cruelty)

All minds and thus eyes are divine
When when when
Will we realize the limits of our hands and mouths and functions

Please don’t ask because I don’t know
Most are on the corner begging,
Peddling their wares
To the hoarder who retreats back
To a gilded lare

Blank stare blank stare
I know he is not fully there
Divide my mind
Wind up and hurl it into
The open, unresponsive sky
And hope it catches wild
On wings spread wide
And flies flies
Far away from here

Whose to say that the dreams
I have just roused from,
Are any less real
Then the waking dream
I find myself in now?

My eyes furrow and my brush stops
As I take a deeper look at the woman posed
across the room.
She stands there, silent and austere,
eyes lost in thought and staring out the window, her naked form illuminated
by the gray light of storming day.

I rub my chin and drink her in with my eyes,
Attempting to capture her shimmering
form and flowing aura,
the water droplets from the rain outside
shadow and race down her body.
Her striking power as bolts of flashing
lightning reflecting in her eyes slowly
blinking eyes.
I see the tragedy of the diminishing hour
as our time together always becomes shorter.

She exudes the feeling rocks feel
when caught in a narrowing stream.
The clear water flows over the stone,
shining it clean with a cleansing touch,
rubbing off the dirt and showing the beauty
even in-between dull shades of gray.

-lightning flash-

She glows like a Star in a deep December night
When all hope is lost, except to follow that light.
How could I capture, how could I mold
her magnificent form into but a splotch of paint?

Squashing and cutting, limiting her vastness
to the confines, a prison, of this canvas.
She glances over because she noticed I stopped,
And gives me a concerned look
to which I reply with my best attempt
at a reassuring smile.

Her concern fades softly away,
replaced with a smile and a kiss
blown my way, floating smoothly
through the air, which I eagerly catch
and hold to my chest.

She looks back out the window, her coy smile fading to chiseled granite once again.
I am stuck alone, rubbing my chin and thinking in circles, once again.

Man is made by the void pressed tightly around him
A silhouette with an outline flickering on gusts, in flux,
Do you see does anyone see
The mirage behind eyes and hands from behind
That grip and shift the sky

The freedom to fly to fly
but also to lie and wither,
a copperhead on dead leaves
slowly slithering
its venom dripping teeth and flickering tongue
sliced by knife wrung quick,
as i fill my glass and take a diluted sip
fade fade to fade a crossing

Man is made by the weight
that props up a fading outline
of borrowed understandings
which binds us which holds us
and releases as the tension grows slack
and in bleeds the black, filling its glass
inside the outline where breath and fire once
passed and flowed,

Will I hear a scream at the beginning
of the ceaseless dream,
or will the taught string be cut in a slash
delivering me back from where i was brought?

Sails set with west Wind
Ears locked to capture essence
Ebbing waves, it comes and goes
Gaze through Painted windows
A mind of my design,
Don’t resign, don’t neglect
Your views you visions your mind
Map chart plot set sails to wind
It doesn’t matter where you begin
Or where it ends
Only that it happens.

The only way to a good death
Is a life worth looking back on
In your final moments.

Outside of the walls of safety, cynicism and past experience
Sits an open sea, colored turquoise green
Where inspiration and love can fly,
Like gulls circling in the wind

Blossom Blossom
Spring is Dawn
Blossom, petals open my palm
went too deep, In for too long
the image fades and then shifts
fizzing And purpling smoke
boils Over the edge
blow a kiss to the wind but I choke
what did I mix, why am I mixing again
the wind shifts
and it goes Missing again

Bliss field Bliss field
walls all Falling down
hidden grove They do not make a sound
dreams Make sense when you’re in them
(I Guesss) Eerie, how I see it so clearly
held in my palm like a Bubble
fissiOn fusion Cracking asphalt
one day one day one instant
Flash

you Make too much sense
why do that to yourself and to me
why exist Coexist cross lights with Anyone
im Vain do not look for me
dont watch me fade fade
dreAm lotus field it all Made sense to me

Hide from fate but it keeps finding me
Hide from fate but it keeps finding me
Hide from fate but it keeps finding me

You control your eyes
You control your sight
You control where your mind
goes each and every night

Stars realign, searching reading signs
Walk along the borderline
exit life, I got bored of mine
Molasses’ slow drip,
Lost in the Divine mind

Shoreline shoreline
Ego Bleed to the ocean
Sap myself away,
Searching for yellow rays
through the drowning gray

Count the days, count the days
Tightrope over the borderline,
Exit life I got bored of mine
Told the truth and I heard them sigh.

movement motions blurred enchanted
Surplanted, ideas sprouts plucked
displaced, renewed in the vacant vase
i wander throughout this vacant plane

transparent encasing, thought plucked
replaced by the soft tones of her voice
her words casting a spell on me,
rearranging life to my eyes,
Light to edge of the river
as the water laps to shore.

To the show to the show
My darling my beloved wants to dance
And sing and let go in the crowd at the show

river flow water evaporates
under pulsing beating heat waves
occilations the fruit decays
in the hands of a mans whose mind
is caught in occupations, speculations
scepticilizations denials of ripeness
the wrongness hesitations
chiseling with shaking hands
crack and splits face decay,
taste away it’s a prize fruit we hold
take a bite, love your life
or with fright watch love mold and decay

my beloved wants to go to the show today
and dance and sing and get lost in the flow Today

infinite cycle of the Moment
Break it, shake off the gears
moon hanging Low, a winding wander between stars
move concussed bemused, hollow tunes and hues
of blue acrylic mixed with black,
darkened substrate, Sewn from different cloth
The seamstress Knits and unties
All of your how’s and why’s, just give her time

Decline Rewind Desire Chasing Decay
Inspired the head Voices they laugh
And snicker, under a light that grows dimmer
yet the stars continue to shimmer and the moon
Wanders aimlessly onwards no matter your Ego
take a respite from being the one who knows

wind blows the streams flows, it’s course carved
Effervescent illusion it fades flows, makes room for the next
a bird In flight between two clasped hands,
that crumble away, now feel the night flow in
Feel the tremors remember to breath
but don’t run, look the void into form and grin
the fluttering bird knows when it’s time has come
it begins to fall fall fall in spiral, flutter in dismay
we all crumble in decay, it’s okay

Hold too tight and you will damage the image
Past nights last flights viewed from a different vantage
Produce differing feelings differing lessons
Building and bubbling tension just let it all go
Give yourself to the flow and feel your chest beginning to glow
It’s okay, it’s okay

Mother Nature grabbed my hand,
And Guided me when I did not have a path myself.
I followed my nose, the scents of honey suckle dragged at me
I followed my eyes, watched the damselflies glide
I reached my hand out and brushed the bark of a grizzled oak,
I learned what it meant to be strong.
My ears caught the soft reverberations of the babbling brook,
When I caught myself dreading a new dawn.

Oh sweet and awing mother,
You brought the rain and lightning
When I had a storm raging inside of me.
You crashed a tree in my way,
When I needed to learn to climb.

Snakes and spiders may scare some others,
But they remind me that we all have our places in your world.
You made the clouds move west,
When I needed a sign to move on.

When the path forked and diverged
And a queasy indecision rose into my spirit
You sent a single bee,
Who hovered in front of me
And lead the way through the forest.