Mother Mary with her tilted head
suggests,
with her Posture,
the light that illuminates her shawl.

Like a leaf tilted by the weight
of water,
the sky demands Enough and speaks,
easy words.

For a time, when the world is silent,
not even
a mystic experience could perfume
the inventory of delight.

Even the light is hollow bubbles.

But I will not bay over a lamb —
Nor will I say there is respect for an idea —
That never should be warranted —
If such idea enjambs with any virus —
Or, if is not to qualify the use of crack —
Given that there is the privilege of **** —
I will not bay over anybody’s lamb —
I will, though, hold my tongue, to wet my arid lips —
Your son uses zucchini improperly —
And we all babble around Crowley —
In grey fields, where the brain bubble popped —
final-
ly.

There's a life of a show, not on the road
where you always know where to go
Crying rivers in your eyes, but you still
have to catch another day, of life's chaotic flow
Told to act right, but you don't know your role,
trying to fit in everyone's shoes; that stained yourself
and scuffed up your soul

Driven into destiny's twine, you try and try,
caught in the ties of a victorious lie
A glorious ugly sight, pinned into you mind,
as you stuck needles in your eyes
As I've seen a buttoning of a sea; fasten into a chest
and drifting away, as you took that dive- trying to survive

And in the night; the stars called me softly,
under a yellow moon, in my highs of emotions all so lofty
In a perfect silence I hear so loudly; choking in the mornings
rushing to me, as when you first drink is bitter cup of coffee
In the shadows of my alarm in these lucid dreams,
the ghosts of those incomplete stories, start to haunt me

Always so antsy; I just keep on searching for answers,
chasing circles inside a box, and counting on my chances
With all of my advances, I'll still slave away my time to
what I always must do- but never to call these despairs
my masters

Blood in the blue,
a direct proclamation of fate,
guided like an arrow,
an actor, or oneself-
a mere impulse-desire in the velvet ruins of eternity.

Temporally displaced,
The hidden moment of a lifetime’s innocent
desire to become
nothing more
than this, that is here,
a dream working on the edge of town,
an elephants delight,
a signal flare on a dark sea nesting quietly underneath an endless, black sky.

You’ve always been
there for me.                                               My rainbow
in my life’s storms.
My daily sunshine rays.
The evening beam that sends the dark clouds away.
The hopeful tints on my bleakest day.
But what if tomorrow never comes?
The tomorrow you’ve daily promised.
Your promise of forever.
But what if tomorrow never comes?
Can I dream by myself?
Would I carry on?
But today is what matters.
Today with you.
Our love is timeless.
I’ll embrace the love we have today.
I would never worry about tomorrow.
Even if doesn’t come.
I’ll hold your hand today and you’ll hold mine.