fireflies
wild flowers
growing in the rough

let them grow
where they go
thriving sure enough

a farmhouse delicately stands
in the center of town with no picket fences
so sheep can roam
and cows remain home
endless pasture- their own
as the herd dog commences
and the barn cat can relish its senses.

a post office next to the schoolhouse
where children play and tumble
around crisp autumn leaves
leaving all aside
except for the
apple in their hands.

in their absence i walk to you
weekly loaf in basket
to share and bear my heart:
your wisdom the balm
and your presence the calm
mending it back whole.

my cup you fill
from a *** of hot coffee
brewed as i arrived.
with you around
surely i can thrive
in the animal house that stands
in the center of town with no picket fences.

letting go of all words, unkind
just as one leaves
another weaves in
with nimble branches
threaded through the needle
and no thimble to protect.

wisdom is within
answers in plain sight
why then like cupid
was i painted blind?

i wish to see the unseen
to know what i seek
but my vision turned outward
keeps me unclean
my fingernails dirtied
by digging to unbury
roots of dancing leaves
on nimble branches
swaying toward every whim

sheer curtains filter
light in many ways
as it shines in winter
it travels another space

sit in raw luminance
at nighttime or day
feel the divine presence
under which you lay

details of constellations
seen from land afar
up for modern contemplation
while smoking a cigar.

My days are filled with a sense of nostalgia
for those that haven't happened yet and
longing for days gone by.

Bouyed by an effervescent iridescence
anchored to the shore of
absurd accusations
vital to self-realizations manifesting
into a festering static buzzing
                                                    to
                                                        no
                                                            end.

your gunpowder steel
on my sycamore blues
haunted by vanity
on a string just out of reach
escape the perpetual debt
we have to our makers
captive in sun strewn streaks of shade
never to feel the warmth of its gaze
willingly judged by sunburnt noses
for being less than
I just want to sparkle
in the ultraviolence.

almost like I never knew.
There I am am feeling like I belong.
Not an inkling of bring wrong.
Along comes another
to show me I'm a bother.

Like them I cannot be...
...yet still I try

Anxious.
Feeling insufficient.
Knowing I'm insufficient.
Wanting insufficiency.
Not quite sufficient.
Comparing and contrasting.
Contrasting.

Wanting acceptance to be my most authentic self.
What is my most authentic self?
Where do I find her?

Focusing on the next milestone.
Getting there and doing the same.
What do we meet at the milestone?
Will be happy will be content will be accepted will be winning,
at the next milestone.

How do you live in the present moment?
What is the present moment?

strands of imperfect love
stretched long to reveal array of colors.
buds bloom through amongst their dead,
remains of a rainbow just out of reach
grand evolution playing the part
passing through time for the art
that outlives us.

the water that surrounds us and becomes
fills our lungs with its weight
even so, air escapes as we exhale
and lifts protected in itself rising
as proof another world exists beyond.

frictionless yet not a vacuum
we become what we consume
but in a water-filled room
what else can we assume
but to fear the unknown
hoping answers reveal after long we've grown?

shine the light of awareness
spotlit with intention upon darkness that shrouds us.
justice is the seed that grows
so too are we who reap and become what we sow.
the might of the machine is matched by light green
that serves not to deprive but to live and be free.

helical thread traversing on the back of time
spiraling through matter to create indifference
satiating the thirst of balance
that will be all ours in due course.

please set me free from the shackles
of this pig-headed society.
free will comes at a cost
to look in the face of what can be lost,
disregarding through life times
surely coming home
to the eternal sunshine.

prolific are we
in our thoughts unseen

beautiful unsung melodies
playing the tune of our memories

distant kindred spirits
weary with the worldly physics

together we weave
a linguistic tapestry

heirs and heiresses
erring their cautions
blood thrusting through veins in hurried vigor and vitality
floating in fine wines and melodies so effortlessly poured
knowing not a possibility of drowning.

Clenching oxblood between teeth,
What little remains dripping down lips
creeping down my chin and
sinking into the depths of velveteen fibers caressing my neck.

Tighter
but loose enough to breathe.
Damper
but dry enough to stay afloat.

Flaming chiffon carnation
unraveling into a dance of ruffles.

Recluse of intrusive
thoughts beyond attainment.

No fife nor drum
conjure evidence concurring victory.
No strife to be named nor likened
to familiar perils.

Just an ethereal
reprieve of condolences
irradiating in the plague of mine.
Ephemeral sparks of hope
placating the absurd.
Entrenched in the hopeful hopelessness of the universe.

What catharsis lifts such dull fog?
Light enough to see through
yet dark enough to burden.

there are those who live to see
and those who live to be seen

myself, i'd like to know
so I can placate my perils
of indirection and indignation.
to douse the flame of uncertainty
and quench this abysmal curiosity.

when the day ends,
I don't know
whether I see or am seen

my faith will falter
my ache won't alter
the afflicted anger
Still hoping it will waver.

between the lines of my laughter
lays sighs of weariness
about what may happen
if i do not temper my joy
- - -
i worry about letting my guard down
long enough to feel
lashes of disappointment and loss
that will sure follow

it's a cosmic correction
     to live a little slower-
        be a little closer,
           live where you are,
              take care of your home-
                  and your home's home.

      To look into each others' eyes-
         no need to fake a smile
           can't see it anyway.
              You can't mask the tears
                      or the smize

           what if it's a hyper alteration
                       to change course
                                 ...

im like a willow
weak branches turned downward
swaying toward every whim
snapping and floundering
my leaves increasingly dim.

i wish to be like the oak
upstanding and steady
growing toward the sun
untouched by the windy
season painted by someone