.
snow leaps branch to branch
bird shivered in craggy pine--

one black eye blinking!

an arc of white light
just pierced the gray enemy;

it's my first snowbow!

.


Collecting the years like a lazy butterfly
caught in the mouth of a lost time infested net.
Columbian Crush!

Where it never rains love nor money. ***** clothes,
***** hands, and
***** minds fill man's hole. Singing shotgun,
bottom feeder's cameras sling the dirt
and shoot the moon.
Wild childrens' vines still swing.

Will anyone here be voting next Thursday?

Remind me why time was killed,
so brutally gunned down in broad daylight.
He apologises as he secretly scratches her name
from his little black book.

Bartender,
another shot of Columbian Crush
on the rocks...

.
We were so much more
than the sea and shore...
yes, yes:
we were so much more.

We dreamed every dream
together, unpinned--
I was sky,
and you were wind.

We were so much more
than sun and moon,
you were every grain
of sand in my dune.

We were so much more
than earth and sky.
I look up to heaven
and still ask why.

We were so much more
than beginning and end.
Despite death...
I still have a friend.

.
Can you see the path
I've made to the stars?
Where moonlight defines
a very good night,
where the moon's fury spills
her soft silver light
over twenty million poets
all at once.
I walk barefoot upon
the stars.
I write of gentle revolutions,
Saturn turns out to be
my best friend.
My pathway leads back behind
the sparkling pools of Neptune,
the pools much more blue than
its' dense methane skies.
As I sit beneath this tree
of Paradise,
I
wish YOU were here.



.

.
If I could just blame it on the shadows,
maybe I could forget about the rain.
Am I all alone in this universe?
Is the sun ever going to rise again?

With just one thought I can think that it's so,
to create a valley flooded with light.
To chase ev'ry shadow down to the sea,
to watch them swim away into the night.

Half the world thrusts money into my hand,
while all I need is right behind my eyes.
Little pockets of Heaven lined with gold,
I'm giving away my excess supplies.

I'm trading shadows, replaced with new light.
There are better days, so bring on the night.



.

.
Starvation and sorrow follow winter,
annihilation of the summer wind.
Searching the barren ground like the fat crow--
there is nothing. Nothing! My cold foot is pinned.

I am tempted to follow the archers,
paint bulls-eyes on the dark side of the sun.
Then I can measure my dreams in light years!
Ah! Nevermore is a poet's work done.

In my pocket are pennies that mingle.
Yet, they won't buy the warmth which I require.
Won't you sing for me that sweet lullaby?
Sonnet for a sonnet. My world's on fire!

How long until the winter sheds her skin?
Will the fat crow ever come back again?




.






.

.
When I was Adam's apple--

tender pain shot to the core.
The burden of mass starvation
came knocking on my door.

Looming storms that sighs began,
through my veins the bad blood ran.

I was sanitized and hunted
since my feet hit the ground.
I remember hearing the woman and
that haunting hissing sound.

Why couldn't I be more thankful
and run from misery,
instead of always rearing it's
head and running after me?

We walked into the sunset's light,
scrawled calligraphy of a flood.
Even tried to warn 'ol Noah
about the rising tide of blood.

We shook the tree,
it's fruit's long forgotten.
Twins fight for space inside her womb,
one will turn out rotten.

Looming storms that sighs began,
through my veins the bad blood ran.

When I was Adam's fingers...


.