there’s a boy that spend i time with
but only twice a year
he’s a little broken inside
but i never see his tears
air pods always in
hear zach bryan playing
it travels through the mountain wind

rarely used to see him smile
but last time he started to grin
he brought the girl he loved
i got to know her well
we shared a cabin room and bed
like sisters in a fairytale

he’d come sit on the bed
and talk to her
sometimes me too
but i saw glow in him
his healing showing through

sadly things went wrong
so he had to walk away
and after that something changed
it was as if all his pain went away

so now we sit on the ocean line
sand in our hair
and questions on our minds
getting to know eachother better
as if we haven’t come to the sand for 6 years
i’m just happy
because he’s happy
and it’s the first time i’ve seen his tears

angels dance in the inferno
of creativity
untouched by it's heat
just illuminated in flame
while I stumble through
a forest
with trees I couldn't bring
to life on a page
but Blake in his divine
madness
saw angels in the branches

In the middle of the journey of your life
you had wandered from the straight path.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and you took both of them.
You broke on through to the other side
but came back stateside pretty often.
Being lied about, you stopped lying.
From men and women you could sometimes require
the lineaments of gratified desire.
Clouds may wander, lonely,
but you’re pretty good at finding company.

she was my jane doe, my everything.

we flew to arizona.
she was my partner, my lover, wondering what i could be thinking about.
her. a different kind of her
"not now," she thinks,
"what about jane doe?"
i understand, and oblige.

the light stirs
we crash down and fall and almost burn
but live
others were not so lucky.

when we fell, i thought about her.
my jane doe.

this place wasn't a place of god, no matter what it said
the things they did to women
children
babies
sickening.

it reminded me of what they did to her,
my jane doe.

her, my partner, my lover
was gone, but i still found her.
we walked and knew we would lose each other again,
no matter how much it hurt us

the light continued to stir
and when it did
i saw her,
my jane doe,
my everything.

it happened so many years ago
we were children
young souls destined to go to heaven

if we were good.

if we weren't, they would lecture us, punish us.
yours was undeserved,
my jane doe.

i tried to be good. i tried to not say a word.
i knew what sin meant,
but i knew even more of your love for me

love.

the prophet said it was love when he slaughtered the women and children.
the heretic said it was love when she played with me like she did all those years ago
they didn't know. they'll never know

but i knew
when i knew you were there,
my jane doe,
my one and only,
my everything.

the child was you, the one who came back for me,
my jane doe.

it was nobody's fault; not yours, not mine, but his?
there is no doubt.
there is nothing.
but you,
my jane doe.

one last stir of light
helpless,
we would be one again.

now i lie here alone
where artificial light stirs
where voices mumble
and when two people say

they have plans for me.

Part of life is flowing,
part of life is falling,
part of life is growing,
part of life is knowing

this goes on and on. Art as Intuition,
shared by the art itself, AI says.

Orpheus
by Michael R. Burch

after William Blake

I.

Many a sun
and many a moon
I walked the earth
and whistled a tune.

I did not whistle
as I worked:
the whistle was my work.
I shirked

nothing I saw
and made a rhyme
to children at play
and hard time.

II.

Among the prisoners
I saw
the leaden manacles
of Law,

the heavy ball and chain,
the quirt.
And yet I whistled
at my work.

III.

Among the children’s
daisy faces
and in the women’s
frowsy laces,

I saw redemption,
and I smiled.
Satanic millers,
unbeguiled,

were swayed by neither girl,
nor child,
nor any God of Love.
Yet mild

I whistled at my work,
and Song
broke out,
ere long.

Keywords/Tags: Orpheus, singer, poet, William Blake, whistle, Satanic, mills, manacles, law, leaden, ball, chain, prison, song, freedom

Last night into the room she crept,
awhilst I lay in bed and slept.
My dreams there caught on sleep’s broad reef
she breached sleep’s net, the blanket thief.

Copyright © 2004 Gary Brocks

i know it’s hard to believe, love
you are so precious to me
i would give up everything for you
i’d give up my eyes
even if it meant
i’d never be able to see you
i’d give up my lips
even if it meant
they’d never touch yours
i’d give up summer days
and chocolate spread
and soft kisses
and warm baths
and sunrises
and milk and cookies
i’d give you everything
if only to make you smile