Flawless
We like to think
our minds and their creations
can only be described as such, can
only be compared to perfection, machine-
made fabric and glass and hugs and love all
wrapped in cellophane and shipped (free of charge)
to Tahiti and Cozumel and other exotic places well-known
for their supposed perfection with brightly-lit, carpeted floors

                                                               ­                                            But our tendencies
                                                                ­                                           Mislead us

It is our flaws that define beauty when true heart is lost among neon
advertisements promising change and retribution only to deliver
the last things you'd expect, the last things anyone would
want: a remote-controlled vacuum, a light-up fish, a
sock that chills your foot rather than warm it in
the night. What a joke, what a sad turn in the
progression of our society. Flaws are and will
always be prominent parts of our lives with
good sound reason backing up this fact
It all comes down to whether you can
come to terms with the reality of
your situation and the little
scratches in your self-
image or whether
you will remain
content to fall
endlessly
into a
lie

A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.

now I'm a shipwreck in a sundress,
an aimless, shameless coquette –
a first kiss, a second guess,
a weak and wobbly pirouette.

A poem falls short; I'd like, instead
to draw a single line from me to you
and watch it curl into a word
so beautiful it's still unsaid –
or press paper to the window pane
so that the day might saturate
a note that brightly warms your hands,
spills birdsong from imagined trees
and buzzes like fat bumblebees,
but I am bound by language, love; I can't.

I need to focus and to find,
This desire and obstacle that renders me blind.
Broken images of smiles and laughter,
leaves me sweating fearfull and lonely after.

Eyes wide they drown in passion,
Feel natures design hidden secret and perfectly fashioned.
Her waist so tiny and so small,
Her hair cascading like golden waterfalls.

Rap around embrace and bind,
In this ecstacy caught captured and mine.
Bite the lip and scar the skin,
Every weakness invoked by delicious sin.

Till i arrive and rip the curtain,
In actions so precise innocent and certain.
Sterile unfeeling killing all infection,
so quickly so completely it goes without detection.

You pass me by without attention,
**** my control and social discretion!

I take a hot long shower
At this odd hour
The sun is long set
As i get soaking wet
The water washes away the dirt
And with it all the hurt
My muscles relax and my brain sighs
In here i sever all ties
The constant sound of water against tiles
So many long miles

You never stop running;
Never slow down.
You’ve learned that silence
Is the screeching of sound.
The days keep changing,
But it all bleeds to one,
As you’ve found that sleep
Only wastes time.
The stress you feel
Just means your alive.
That shortness of breath
Helps you survive.
So you move through the world
Blind to it’s beauty,
For you’ve learned things are worthless
Unless they are moving.