a liar in love
a crow in the cold
beginnings ascend
from the carcass of folly
what remains is the will
what survives is what
was there all along
courage is knowing

Is greatness endowed by the flick of a sword?
You look just the same to me.
Is taking up arms in the name of our lord
really enough to be free?
Just fashion a noose out of three pure white cords.
string it up into a tree.
Wrap it around that frail throat spewing lies.
Rid the world of a banshee.

breathing the turquoise like lavender,
and sipping the blue summer.
bitter cold clouds glide and morph lava lather,
floating whispers cut by sweet pineapple sunshine.

soon, a moment, now
rhythms ripple the sky like skipping stones
we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.

cobalt bass rumbles the earth hungry,
pumps the air with springing spirals
pushing and pulling the senses,
reverberating through cells.

heavy mud humming, stomping
echoes through our atoms dizzy;
balancing tuned body to innate electricity
the fizz of circulating lemonade energy.

we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.

strawberry melodies spilling ribbons,
dolphin leaps of the spaces inbetween beats,
lines of colours overlapping,
colliding, mixing, merging, blending
in with the forest.

washing over souls the life fire sparkles
like a clear water cleansing harmonies,
sound waves crashing against inertia.
phosphorescent glow of re-charged love
for the world, for being, animation

flowing through burnt smoky ashes
of sapphire charcoal skies;
dimmed radiation of chlorophyll emerald days.
the smell of salt, dry bark, fluffy carbon mists,
trembling lights softening the eyes'
grip on outlines, loosening lies.

watching the cycles of patterns
tumbling colours through a mill rotating,
and the silence of listening
when the music comes to an end.

The road was all mud
she slipped with the drizzle
and you couldn't tell
the color she wore
but her big awed eyes
colored the land in all colors
making her lose breath
gazing at every little thing
till over the noise of lightning
boomed her father's voice
be fast girl before the rain is harder
when she would run for his hand
and slip again and again
counting fun at every fall
her eyes a glowing island
from the mud scarred face.

Once in the market
the man gave her a good wash
little knowing she was drenched
with all the dreams
eyes could ever see.

I have loved you
Longer than I expected

Harder
Than I wanted

And more beautifully
Than I could imagine

Heaven filled not only our eyes,
But also our hearts
With skies full of pink.
But what can I say?
She is pink skies herself;
Damp city with streets
Nothing but dashing cars,
Flashing street lights,
And occupied people.
Yet she is all I can see.

I’ve never received a flower
Or even a rose
But I’m a guy
So it’s acceptable I suppose
No kisses
Or sweets
No treats
That signifies ones feelings for me
No token of ones love
But I have gotten
Disappointment
Watered with hate
Planted in betrayal
Fertilized with lies
And maintained by fakes
Roses are Red
But my roses are dead
And crumble beneath my feet

A floating island of multicolored boats,
clustered outside the golf course greens,
bobbing in blue waters, white waves slosh,
bathing-suited and bikinied people waiting.

A speck and a sound approach in the sky,
the first of many roaring and tumbling planes,
in different sizes, colors, and abilities,
all performing to a synchronized radio station.

As the sun sets, and the planes fly away,
sparks of blue, and green and gold start,
the fourth of July fireworks begin as
Lee Greenwood sings, "I'm Proud to be an American".

It gets better
he said soothingly
And he wasn't the first to say it
nor-I think-will he be the last
but it was the first time
I believed it if only for a moment
Take your time, he assured me
And in a world of
rush rush rush
Those words alone made sense to me
and as we stood and smiled I felt hope flicker to life
at least for a moment