A child's smile
A cup of tea
A walk in the woods
A fleeting sense of serenity
An eruption of joy
A magic moment
in the labyrinth
of our existence
sunflowers seeping into her skin like rot
an uncontrollable summer cancer
bones breaking ahead of time
a tombstone blissfully cool
come back to me sweater weather.
Devil down under ground
To Gods just deep ocean sound
Burn the devil
Bless the rest
Put those monkeys to the test
Monkey me Monkey you
Look to heaven, see and do...
daily prayer in life, hope that people put to actions Gods love in Jesus.
On a sweet apple crisp cold day we walk
When the air is acrid with distant wood smoke
And bright Leaves fall with determination
Creating the season’s rich tapestry.
I run to keep up
Your science makes me grateful
For the rest
I notice still
My loose-mitted hand tentatively held out
To all manner of wonders that
My own hasty glances would have missed.
The stream, now
A sweet musty rug of russet rot,
Rambling with red and black fodder
For urgent little colonies of foragers
Who wait for wonders of the earth to be passed
There are days like this
To sip sweet tea from your flask
The ecstasy of the smallest thing
I am told you are my sunset child
The one who waits on the other side
with my Nan.
Sometimes I barely feel like a man
let alone a father
But for you I would chase down every shadow
I would light a candle
I struggled as a child
life wasn’t always good
I know you are in better place
watching my face cry
as I write this
but I will try to replace the kisses
when we meet again
we will be father and son
and I will be your friend.
What the hell does that mean?
When does someone become an adult?
When they turn 18? 21?
Or does age even matter?
Maybe it’s more about what someone does.
How much someone accomplishes.
What makes someone an adult?
Moving out of your parents house?
Getting an education?
Losing their virginity?
Having a full time job?
What if I haven’t accomplished any of these?
What does that make me?
All I know is that I’m 25
and still feel like a ******* child.
I wanna smell that fall air I smelt as a kid
Just got done raking watching the leaves burn as we sit
hoping they don’t catch wind
Fresh cut grass right after on the mower with the messed up seat
Go inside with the doors open watching the birds feed as we sit and eat
Watermelon and salt with a sandwich, no worries just fun innocence
simple days I didn’t take for granted, wouldn’t have ever wanted something different
Couldn’t ask for better days as a kid
If only i were a paper plane,
I'd fly away;
Into the unknown, where life awaits
But sadly I'm no close
To a paper plane I suppose,
But I can still fly away
On a rocket ship one day
Or I can simply fold my page,
Then aim it through the window
And there goes my paper plane;
Into the unknown.
That I could have done more for you
That you had not been torn from me
Your dying mother
Haven't posted for a long time. Stay safe!
here, time is a truck
with waxed wheels. but it
keeps pacing, keeps paving the path
to destruction; in dreams, I pluck
myself from its sheath, let it sweep
over me like a tide; on the
ground, I gather my garments,
as stones and seashells, slip
into their ethers, where eternity
waits. here, pyramids don’t converge
as they taper; they tunnel
like a lair that has lost its lucidity
& I’m wandering within their walls,
clueless, clouded—a captive child
eager to escape into enlightenment,
or another dream, where bliss befalls.
this is a paper-dream gobbling
reality—down to its
bone, bruised bare & bleeding.