Thank god for the change of seasons,
gives me a reason.
As the skies fade to gray from blue
it gives me an excuse to change too.

I forgot what it feels to be hot.
As leaves drop it reveals the truth.
We hide our trunks by façade of youth.
I find where I am by playing it cool.
Impending Winter says I played a fool.
We each have the tools to act how we want.
Wantonly waste the days of sowing: time comes to reap an empty plot.
Spirit seems dead, under earth growing.
Throw down knowing roots.
Rise with Sol above lowly thought.
When others are withering the persistent maintain presence.
Stop easy excuses; recruit robust essence.

Each towering tree has thought of rot.
Surrender is sweet, but the strong see
what Spring brings.
God does not end with what Autumn brought.

I'm bluffin with a handful of aces.
The game hasn't started yet,
but I'm making my paces.
Life is in a corset of context and I did up the laces.
Can't see behind my mask
because I wear two poker faces.
Look into my eyes to trade places.

One hand in the kitty, the other palming a *****;
we eat up the country and **** in the city.
Tongue in cheek pity which I find tasteless.
Tasting myself, irony has lost: caseless.
A real strict lawyer
tries telling Tom Sawyer he's baseless.
The rest painting the fence say it's ok that he's aceless.

I am still a ***** bedwetter
when the urge is overwhelming.

Locked. Dominated.

Tear-stained pillows.

I found a strand of hair in the bed.

Deep down in my truest self, I am no different from a bug.
Because messy emotional crumbs swept under a rug:
act tough like a ****.
But from that prior deep place, I know we each need a big hug.

Human outlook gets caught in a loop.

When I bite into fruit
supple surrender
reminds of  mortality.
Juice runs but I catch.
Happiness bursts with no lock to latch.
I lost my head.
If found, please reattach.
For now, I can stick to chilling all blind-like.
In the dark I still have my heart.
I will not let regret get the limelight.
In the past I had too much focus on hindsight.
Jellyfish do not even have eyes
yet not one is paralyzed with existential dread.
They float in the moment. A place where demise has fled.
Between all forms of experience.

In lieu of being fake, I don a glass mask.
Observed, I am seen as a brittle basket case full of sass
blinded by the rays in which we bask.
A riddle whose answer you need not ask
because I am already clasped behind your back.
That itching thought
of which is oft ignored; through a mind it may bore and crack.
If judged so, daft recognizes daft,
realizes life lays down sordid tracks.
When elegance is noticed be appreciative of the act.

Wings spread; flappable;
something else now, as a matter of fact.

Tufts of grass where the mower blades can't reach.
Tracts of earth where the preachers don't preach.
Hidden worlds, a deeper connection to spirituality.

Earthbound nature is duality.
Approaching god
but prevented by our own humble hubris
Capable cowardice creates this bottomless pit.
We’re constantly trying to climb out of it.
Madness, on my own hands I spit.
Towards the dark lands I travel, away from where the bonfire’s lit.
I explore this black hole which I must embrace.
Exoneration of self seals enlightenment’s gate.
Wanting to be Buddha; experiencing fate.

Finding my own space which has naturally grown
I will crawl with the insects. This place I'll call home.
Trimming no life? I’ve never dared less.
A largesse I’m prepared for, but how should I dress?
Brother spider, sister ants, please bless me as I shed man’s pants.
Metamorphosis into an in-tune being.
Crafting few calluses with this form of gardening.

The devil I am already had a pitchfork
and eagerly took up the torch.
My black heart was pitch, too ready for a scorch.

My insidious nature should not be touched.

I groped through the dark for something
to clutch. I looked for kindness
and found too much.  
A bonfire for the ******.
A blaze to cause blindness.
No eyes of love could behold that funeral pyre
but with scarred fingers I felt the fire.

Surrounded by broken screams
I hear my mind’s seams rip
and all I’m left with is reams of blank pages.
In one hand, rolled tightly is a fresh white beacon.
I reach out to shake with my other as I put another lover
in this mechanism for my massacre of the ages.