paper turns purple
as it imitates the flames
licking animals

The sky is not blue
not for me and not for you
fly up there and see

In an orange sky
flies by
a foreign jet

In a golden age
clean pages
of knowledge

Inside our spines
neurons fire
and intersect

In grace, in church
on pews they perch
and genuflect

and

In fathoms blue
fish swim through
holy nets

In the morning
the day is born
Why do we sometimes
whinge and cry
when the sun rises
in the sky

Why do we whimper
late at night
when death has been
cheated
and at our feet lies
a safe retreat

We fear the hello
we say to the day
We hate goodbye
when the hour is late
We’re oh so fickle
stuck between two pickles

Clouds don’t stay around for long
like headline news
coming and going
becoming ‘old’ very soon

Like morning sun and nighttime moon
the switch one day will wear out
Our world will tire of hot and cold
black and white darkness and light

Gold or bust
Bronze is too close to rust  
and change we must

Be mindful when you live
Be careful when you die
Discipline determines
your dream day and night

Watch your mind
your mouth and hands
The winds may blow
where you don’t want to go

During a lifelong drought
two rivers of tears
could flow
from your eyes to your mouth

This thirst is the worst

When I finally die
losing me losing you
losing all the things I love to do
the only thing I might own
is my name carved in stone
if indeed someone plants me
like a silly seed
a mere name
claiming fame
but this will not last
for many years
It too will disappear
like a puff of cloud
or a candle blown out