Νεώτερος από χθεςA thousand clouds watch as we lay in the widegreen grass as crickets sing our siesta song.Our eyes dance along with the sails of racing boatsas their hulls slice open the ocean.Here we lay at the edge of the world where sound was born,one wave from a million miles away suddenly washed ashore.Sea spray misted and drifted, falling like snow on our skin.The earth seemed to spin slower today,the power of the sky set the tone for a nice memory.Then we stood headlong against the windfeeling so much younger than yesterday.

.To the poet, it's rhyme before reason.To the beast, a world with four seasons.To the pirate, high seas without treason.To the comedian, Jackie with no Gleason.To the snowman, there's no life before freezin'.To the tissue, there's no use until sneezin'.To the window, please let a spring breeze in!

. ~I just wanna touch the sky--to grab the stars that dot your eyes.A shooting star's light tends to diminish,but I thought of you todayfor twenty two minutes.~.

.When I finally holdthat mountain in my hands,after traveling to all of these wild distant lands--paradise will become mine to unfold.Always running from the cold city's temptation,as subdivided sectors seem to sink in frustration.Yet, tame in comparison to the lands I once knew,black diamonds surfaced in the rock garden I grew.What you get on your canvasis what you hold in your mind.Don't give up your brush,let's see what we will find.

.
And the night comes darkly
as seconds become minutes.
A million feet shuffle as
the mandolin's strings vibrate
hard like diamonds. Drink the darkness
slowly,the sickness will come, thick
like a pocketful of sighs.
Let's carve our initials into
the moon while it looms
so low and naked over a poets' sky tonight.
Minutes become hours, days become nights.
Now we walk a little slower around
the windowless corridor.
Me, the raven, and Forever Moor.

.A crucified mind
hangs like a brutal memory
as thin starlight falls
on the Mississippi river,

washing down a scream; illuminating
silenced shards of a broken life.
Thoughts fraught
with apology
get dragged down by the stone.

It feels like a double milk dawn
ever since
you've been gone.
Eternal friends,
your atomic God.
Your omnipresent
force
field.

.Dear Geezus,    I am six years old and I need some help.My momma used to tell me that if I ever got intoa pickle that I could call on you and you would help me.Well, I think I'm in a real pickle.    Every time I get off the school bus after school,I walk into the house and I can never wake momma up,and she's always sweating real bad. I called 9-1-1 likethey told me to in school a long time ago last month. It didn't help.I always find her plastic tubes with pins in them and big rubber strapslaying on the coffee table.Sometimes when she wakes up she gets really, really mad at mefor no reason. I didn't do nothing wrong though.I am very scared Geezus!Can you pleeze help momma?I sure do miss her smiling.P.S. Can you take from me my pickle?Love,Zachary