Like your orange bowl
of sweets and sweet love
    It’s part of me now

              No way Jose, No way.

Like the place we first met
that begins with B
    Let’s go back tonight

              No way Jose, No way.

Because all the dogs down in here
smell your disdain
    And say

              No way Jose, No way.

This boat’s going to sink
so let’s get drunk
    and love

              On this day Jose, On this day.

I lay awake all night, scraping the skin of my temples like a copper coin on a lottery card.
I'm lost, but so afraid of being lost that I distance myself even further.

It's like being afraid of the ocean and trying to escape it by rowing further from the shore.
The sand is my home, and I long for it so much that I cower infront of it.

A love so powerful that my flesh and bone can't possibly contain it.
I show no signs of life like I once did, but honestly did I ever display such signs?
My past seems like a bright and beautiful memory, but really it's a mirage of what I'd hoped for.

I shouldn't have ever tried to escape.
I'm hiding from the sky's amber glow by scampering below deck; into the darkness - the wooden floors, drenched ceilings and empty cabins.

This is not what I know, I don't understand, it came down from the clouds to fetch it's old plaything.

Your insanity is my own.
I can't escape you.

my dire
hard part
will sing
this tract
with her
heart there
with me
only time
will enhance
her taint
that my
incandescent voice
then reignites
miracles whence
my holistic
nobility reigns
alight sighing

The winds, the winds
How busy they were
Rushing through the port
Dancing with yachts everywhere

Excited for the journey
Did my sail stretch its way
“Ahoy, good people”
I’ll be gone today

Dear maps, dear compass
Which direction shall I sail?
Too many places I’ve lived
I wish I could find a destined trail

The place I belong
Where might it be?
Unsure to decide
The nation staying with me

Sailing the oceans
Helped me carry on
Living my life
On no-man’s-land I was drawn

Searching and searching
Bound to find
The frustration and anger
Forcing life behind

A voice within
Oh sailor let it be
Wherever you go
You’ll be merry

For only you
Will master your speech
Alone your beliefs
Being the anthem you’ll preach

The pulsing city
Your mind will be
The body will define
Your vast country

The charm of a sailor
Your culture will respect
Along the hoisted flag
With the nature you project

The high ruling judge
You are in your court
Living history reads
The knowledge you support

For the way you are
So is your realm
A world where you rule
And you’ll feel at home

So carry me waters
Where it pleases the winds
For at home I am
And a new journey begins

On a shore line of forgotten promises,
tied to a embankment  of memories.
                                     it leans wearily,
obligated to wait for a tide that has
evaporated like its hope evermore.

But as blue tears erode from its façade,
                                falling into the breeze.
Tied to a stump of wood cleaved from life,
as this majestic moment both dead in the
water of past retrospective moments.

Making little paper boats
With colourful bright page
Very light as it will float
The waterpool, its stage

Red, green, blue and white
So much fun, floating alike
Glossy paper, glows so bright
Some classy, some with spikes

I named my boat, "Thunder"
As the background was stormy
Some boats flipped under
Pictures taken by my mommy

Reading this, you might think
I am some preschool kid--really!
Don't let your hearts sink
I am an adult, you silly ;-)


©sim

You hold me down
so I won't drown
or drift so far away.

I'm tied to you
like the stars to the moon;
like curious to everyday.

A survivor's raft:
will not capsize
but will stay dry
because I'm safe with you on sea.

An anchor:
does not sink a boat;
it keeps it afloat
—that's what you are to me.

Gliding through glistening ripples,
mirroring the milky blue from above.
Viewing the world side-on,
yet gracefully moving forwards.

Golden corn wave their hello.
The passing landscape rolls like revolving stage scenery,
painted by the finest.

She rests at her pilot’s will,
then moves forward once again;
gliding through glistening ripples.