Well I sometimes miss
When I was a kid
It's awfully hard
To get used to this

All this grown up stuff
Being out to lunch
As they keep passing the plate
No thank you very much

Growing bounds and leaps
Pretty as you please
What's in front, behind
and beside of me

With a wrinkle here
And a wrinkle there
Along with balding spots
In my graying hair

And a belly Buddha
Would be proud of
Since I haven't missed
Many times at lunch

With a memory
That's hard to find
As this wandering mind
Gets lost at times

So if I had the chance
Just tell me when
Show me where
And I'd do it all again

It is not true that everyone
wants to reach for the stars.

Some of us just want to get high.

Do you compare yourself to others
In the measure of your worth
Can you not stand on what you have
Yourself over time incurred
Is that so unheard

Do you look and see that at least
I'm doing better than them
Is that how you measure
The standard of a man
What little worth you have

Why is the putting down of others
Your favorite way of pick me up
Measuring with the negative
Will never add up to the sum
In the measure of a man

I loved you before the alcohol,
Hourglass to the soul,
hour pass,
days maybe...
in between the formulation of golden nuggets in the mountains silver sands.
You held my hand and through velvet touch,
Electricity meander through my arms,
before the storm calm,
the start of a heart attack -
then the pack of house of cards collapsed.
In a deserts smile,
you flatlined through our favourite past times.
The pastures rich with buttercups
and dandelions like the last time.
When we walked over the train tracks harvest.
Last summer and last spring.
Somethings are everlasting,
and some pass like storm clouds without one droplet of rain,
in casting,
our love grew like tulips,
Yellow, red and blue,
bruises,
but soon come the rain,
our muses loses,
&
rendered useles;
I went away and
It's too soon to explain myself,
For that.
Back,
with cap in hand.
Lost in hearts melted by false starts,
and feathered cap,
Falsetto moods
sharp stilettos,
slap back.
I couldn't let go when the sun came through,
and a calming parting of the clouds where the rain came blue.
I thought I could live without you,
but I bottled it,
again.
Now I've nothing left to give,
but my gift to you.
sinking, sleeping in the land dunes
trying to understand you.

when it hit you home.

you’re eyes closed at shutter speeds,
when the heart sinks,
or sank.
and each blink individually,
starts to take a second of your life from me,
frivolously.
and your mind focuses,
but like a broken lens,
you nictate, nictate,
like you’re stuck on repeat.
and you dictate the aftermath,
like you have admitted defeat.
as cynosure slips from your fingertips.
the closure in the locus.
you spoke to me in hindsight,
and you spared me in the moment.
still glowing, albeit, caliginously.
you described the bright lights in defiance,
lying sweetly,
in a conversation, in constellations,
i’ll remember you in full bloom;
in keepsakes;
we wished to the the stars aligned,
shining flowers for you in the nights sky.
whilst you fought for your life, in kind.
high as a kite, twinkle in your eye,
as you guide your life
away.
still in spite,
of your perdition,
the latest addition of you.
when i see you in ruin.
through the body as it mortifies,
and your fortified smile,
tortured denial,
a defiant forcefield,
shatters and eviscerate,
and as you evaporate;
i see your lips crack through dryness,
my queen and highness;
i’ve not seen you laugh for a while.
and as I see time pass,
from you astute,
a calmness in your eyes grew,
and now when you belly laugh,
you gasp for air,
it’s as if,
not much is inside there.
as you stutter and stammer,
judgement impaired,
scared.
and yellow coloured,
tinged skin,
bed ridden
in affliction,
to me,
to you.
as it dawned on me
and then it dawned on you.
when it finally hit you home,
nothing left but skin and bones,
the final petal of a rose,
fell.


**I still miss you.
I miss you still.
I always have,
always will.

Angel wings blotched with ink
Pluck the feathers, let them sink
Down the depths of fleeting pleasure
What is good? Subjective measure.
Whitest linen hemmed with gold
Lined with rubies, red and bold
Dropped in mud, in realm of swine,
Even Lamb with sinners dined.
You who claim to be righteous
Free from blame, always cautious
To never break a moral code
But fail to love and the self erode.
Take the time to introspect
To empathize and project
A light for those who’ve lost their way,
For in their shoes you walked for days.
Soles wore thin, where to begin?
Strive to make sorrow grin.

Some take cover from the rain,
But I know better.
I let it cleanse my
Grime-encrusted skin,
Layers upon layers of sin.  
I’ve tried to occult my faults,
But the rain knows better,
For it penetrates my guise with
Surprising ease, disarming me.
Bare skin exposed and I quiver
As eyes examine every sliver
Of who I am.
Soaked body with nature’s balm
Glistens when a ray of sunlight
Splits the gray clouds, as if
Assuring me redemption.
Some retreat when gray clouds approach,
But I know better.
My character, tempest-tossed,
Scintillates when the sun comes out.

My silence is not, and does not
Represent, the inadequacies of
my adeptness and my knowledge,
Nor does it undermine my capabilities
Of paraphrasing primary thoughts
In verbose, scholarly manner, no,
It does not, can never, didn't ever
Mean that I am not opinionated,
For it is upon my discretion
Whether you are worth debating with.