My thoughts once so crisp and clear,
Have begun to jumble and come too near.
What once was stored in neat little files,
Is now tumbling through space unruly and wild.
A crystal blue lake, calm and serine,
Polluted, contaminated, no longer clean.
The toxicity of your touch,
The lust for your poison.
Threw my world too much,
Like I took a love potion.
I love you, with all of my heart,
But I love him deep within my soul.
Together you two cloud up my mind,
Like murky waters below.
So here I stand, on this bridge,
Staring endlessly down.
Here I dream of clear blue water,
While stuck inside the mud,
This murky ***** water,
Makes my heart fall heavy, and thud.

It started with a series of drips
A pool of sky's water slipping beneath the heavy door
From six floors up it fell
Flinging itself off ones step and then another
A thousand tiny waterfalls rushed
Falling and dancing down six concrete stories
Serine light bouncing as it cascaded
Littering the almost cobalt walls in a reflective show
The greatest beauty in the decrepit city
Seen by the lost boy sitting in the stairwell.

Bright must be the light that shines from within, deep and roaring with the overwhelming radiance of a thousand suns.
The fuel surges through our veins and our tried courage the ember which sets the blaze of triumph raging through the ages.
We are the light, bane of the dark.
Fear not the flames, for our valour is the blade that splits the sky a sunder, sending ripples through the very fabric of the universe for all eternity.
The great white wolf walks at our side and the raven reveals to us the route less traveled. Righteous with our every step to purge this existence of the wicked and the cruel.
Lay down beloved foe, you are forgiven.
And when it is our time to die, our death song will thunder with all the resounding clarity of a dying star.
Guardians of savage love and serine peace. Let the sweet scent of roses take you away,  feel the kind sun kiss your flesh and greet death with a smile. Hello old friend I'm coming home... Victorious.

i look through my window
and i see my life looking back

i look through my window
and i see what my could have been

i look through my window
and i see my death

a death so beautiful and serine
it looks like im sleeping
sleeping on a bed of satin
flowing down a river
a single rose between my hands
with red hair floating around me
like a halo

Flowering in my hand
The godforsaken darkness of this bedroom
I stand for waves of consciousness
Although my only accessibility is to be seated
And to let the walls and the dry waves beneath us
Cushioning the air like newly wedded palm trees
All savory and nearly serine
Minus their little tatter tantrums,
Decide what is allowed to be easy on the ocean ears
And what is a blue-dusk silver shattering storm instead.

You jump in once
Your body all made of hands and feet
And the communal clatter of thanking God
Soaring your way down the only descend
After making allies with the butterflies
Making pockets in clouds
And does anyone know how to spell home
In embroidered lace pink
Or can we still go in head first?

A Dead Tree
So stark not a spark is left abuse thoroughly viewed a large branch splintered and busted is evidence of
Deaths spasm the aura deepens at ground level the finery of your life now bold and black is the
Silhouette you reach sky ward still but with reduced arms that are empty and they have no feeling
Just a resting place for a solitary bird the gloom covers you the battle lost the cost was high you paid to
Play among the hues that tantalize the enrichment of life fuses all together the wind plays upon your
Hard skin the vestiges of time preyed on you and you made no complaint you were given a choice a piece
Of land to cover and occupy you did it admirably each day you stood your ground you took you’re part
In Representing the good earth you had abundance of worth the winged stole away in the folds of your
Mighty presence the woodland creatures made their nest high in your crown a flourishing honor you
Bade to the Forrest serine you reduced the cold hardness that would have been if you hadn’t taken your
Stand bared the elements helped make small changes a cleaner more perfect nature drew from your
Roots and then the winds of change brought a fading to your very existence colorless was a hard one
To except when always that was your best feature green that sprang out from the base hard tone it was a
Singing image came to full range nothing can hold a candle to thy head so high the sky plays about
Wondrous it made us think how much you must know with such a princely view rarity personified
Looking over the earth as it renews itself a spectacle how rich and blessed when the rains wash your
Face with joy you stretch and creak then the thunder fills the air the wonder rolls evenly throughout this
Wild domain the lighting puts on its show thrilling with the hint of danger your loss still evident from the
Time it personally blinded you left its flaming calling card you lost a sizeable portion of your mature
Branch you understand power in the base meaning of the word then like all living things it was the
Sign of the end you felt the weight of sagging that was unknown before you had luxury of a slow demise
Still you bore the glory of many years you fulfilled your destiny of a monarch thanks for standing so long
And the grace you shared made us all indulge in the finery so richly you have expressed

The Shed

This temporary transient visited place so common nothing to distinguish it from just a sad hovel. After entering you find the most extraordinary pieces of your history. Garden tools that your mother and father shared you remember their toiling for hours on end with them being enthralled in this simple pleasure. On the work bench a broken flower *** oh how the scent of potting soil rushes into the mind the feeling of the cool black moist mixture as you work with it with your fingers. The flower that stands so seemingly jaunty after you packed it snugly in a brand new ***. It seemed to sense its beauty did it not shoot forth the sweetest fragrance that now you believe you can still smell.

Suddenly a cloud burst and the rain begins to dance on the tin roof in fact the sound has no outward melody but in the heart what pleasure it couldn’t be better what raw power to soothe to voice such serine harmony with such fundamental materials everything comes together in this roar and deafening assault you pray that it doesn’t stop

Has the time sped by so fast now you sit in the quiet darkness and then slowly the wind builds momentum it fairly howls then with unerring aim it finds just the right defect in the wood it starts the most joyful sound as you hear creaking and moaning sounds acoustic wonders surround has the night minstrel brought yet another magnificent performance for your hearing alone. Truly it has enjoy the magic that only the mysteries of the night can produce.

On the wall there they hang in splendor license plates from the grand vacation you took as a family your dad was so proud he was able to introduce ever one to this great country beyond the borders of home and the well known paths that were worn almost to the point of dullness but now when added to the new and grander whole it renewed and made home recapture its true worth.
You step back and your gaze comes to rest on your father’s favorite place here his tools seem to hold the honored spot. How could they be more orderly? And reverently displayed cleaned and oiled ready at all times for use. Then you remember his great strong hands how he held them almost lovingly as he explained there uses to you. He seemed to be always adding new ones it caused you to wonder is he going to run out of room. The question was answered the day he showed off his brand new red standup tool box how he beamed.
It does seem some books and papers have gotten out of hand just strewn about but that only adds charm and warmth to the place. A special place of abandonment setting for long periods no order just fleeting thoughts that appear then dissolve into others as they silently enter this private world.
I could tell you more but after all it just a shed I left the door open why not go on in and set a spell I’m sure you have similar memories in this place truly time is suspended your cherished memories its only reality. The world can be stark and unkind but God saw fit that that within a small wooden structure you could find an oasis. Cool not only the physical temperature but give the mind and soul this delightful respite.