“Mumble-mumble,
bumbling stumble…”
You utter and stutter.

“What?”

I sputter,
   and out you flutter.

I have seen, I have seen, I have seen all I need to –

The illuminating ideas rolling gently from your lips, caressing my mind,
vivifying my thoughts, reviving lost electrons, electrifying burnt out neurons –
charging my mind, challenging my intellect, changing my perspective – there is no Starry Night, no Mona Lisa, no Shakespeare sonnet, no Ginsburg “Howl,” no Ezra Pound on a black bough, that likens to the magnificence of your words, the radiance of your smile, the wonderment of your eyes, or the fun of your laugh. There was nothing special about the moments before, not the jester, nor a stunning sunset, but something charmed happened after the jester exited stage right, a simple phrase, uttered from your lips, the what matters not, just the swift insight that I was in awe. Never have I been in awe before, a new experience, that never faded, that stuck with me for the days to come as I wander aimlessly dreaming of the greener experiences you will open me to. I leave myself unguarded, there are no masks, no sad howling mask of despair, no happy grinning mask of cheer, just me, open to you, your ideas, your enlightenment. Paint, draw, sketch, mold me into who I should be for you, I am your canvas, you are my artist, this will be a masterpiece that will hang on the walls of museums, in the halls of temples to come, to put people in bewilderment as they rub their eyes for they have seen all there is to see now.  

– nothing can compare to what I have now seen, life has meaning, and it’s before me, in your eyes, your smile, your mind, your you.

do we you or i live life? I think so

we live life and experience things like the cosmos – nebula's, constellations and galaxies the speckled white backdrop of purple green on a black satin sky at night – so magnificent

we live life and experience things like that hobo – cold and homeless an image of pure sadness we look at the wretch and feel despair – he smiles, his shallow and sickly eyes say the opposite. So we wonder what is his story, his history – a mask

we live life and experience things like a rainbow – an optical illusion that has no end and no beginning, it is infinite and we reach and reach and grasp and grasp and and we never get a grip – a mirage

we live life and experience things like children – inebriated adults proclaiming a grin of innocence and a smile of sweetness in small form – we cling to our youth, much like the rainbow or the lion seeking his prey we hunt for it – its momentary *

we live life and experience things like exhilaration – riding a roller coaster, a high speed car chase – watching a man land on the moon, falling in love, and the times when childlike excitement fill our bodies – *the escape

life is so magnificent, who we are behind the mask, how we see a mirage, and its momentary fleeting passing, and our escape –**living for the escape.

With ever-bounding enthusiasm, an enthralled, elated group of people embarked,
Not to visit a vast, vibrant land, but to colonize a capacious continent,
Imperial insatiability was inferred upon imagining an inventive future,
Latent with lustful leering upon the land, we, yes we, left for liberty.

With eyes of fire, souls of greed, arms of thunder,
We filched their land, stole their food, killed their eagle,
We shattered their culture, scorned their ways, and dared to call them savages,
We drenched our freedom-land, with the blood of natives.

We are the land of the brave in a prose penned by a poet,
Being brave we brutally butchered, under the guise of our liberty,
Barbarous is our embellished bravery; reckless is the loss of life,
A lost liberty echoes with the laughter of the ghosts of irony.

In a ****** battlefield lies dead our liberty, once free, once brave,
Imprisoned in a stunning story of sorrow, liberty shall we never know?
Freedom foregone is never forgotten, simply a freed freedom,
The bravery lost was passed to the savage souls we seized in the name of liberty.

i hear them again - persistent and near, the echo fills my ear (again and again and again) it's sharp, piercing, and booming within a single second - now begins the blaring whir of the banshee (she screams, wails on a mission of violent peace)

the ghosts fervently float away - the banshee gets nearer and nearer and nearer, her screams snatched by the buildings around her, kicked like a soccer ball, building to building (vertical hopscotch, the whirring wail of the banshee)

the banshee silenced, her wailing replaced with deafening flashes - the ghosts have gone, graciously escaping the fervent frequency of the banshees hi-fi to a sanctuary beneath the clamoring scape of black jacks and yellow hacks

emanating exhaustion and trepidation, the ghastly ghosts gather to regain their ecto - the banshees betrayed by their blasted blaring wail - the ghosts are gone.

outside, the glow of flame fills my hands – wind chimes (it gently tugs at my shirt)
the night sky chirps, clouds roll along the moon’s illumination – the hefty oak tree (casts a small shadow) it wrestles with whirling winds
the smoke saturates my skin - a familiar sin
experiencing life, while puffing death - the enigma of being human.

the comet shoots through the vastness, the starkness, the blackness- splashed with shades unimaginable (radiant), your apex- no longer in an aphelion, feel the warmth of the sun, see the smiling ring, unstoppable pull, dissipating the cold, the tail ignites the night sky (colorful smudges drifting) strikes the corona and dissolves into your heat.
i'm a comet stuck in your orbit – and when you melt me, it’s the prettiest thing imaginable.