Don't be fooled by these **** offs that you're their gold.

There once was a woman
Who had three daughters
The eldest, Rain, was often moody, but always caring
The middle child, Sun, was cynical and hot-headed
The youngest, Wind, was free spirited, but often clumsy and careless

There once was a woman
Whose three daughters ran away
They ran
Until they could run no more

Then they lay on the forest floor
And melted into the dirt
Never to be seen as little girls again

There once was a man
Who loved a woman
Who loved three girls
Who melted into the dirt

There once was a couple
Who cried when it Rained
Who screamed when it was Windy
and who sobbed when it was Sunny

There once was a couple
Who simply gave up
And melted into the dirt

Hello.

Welcome to my poem.
I would like to introduce you to
a few words of mine.
The words come from my mind.
       I can't remember where my mind found them
Like a friend, they comfort me,
grow me, make sense of me.

My mind is open. Step on in now.
Come in, have a seat,
   the words will be home shortly.
Be sure and take your shoes off
and close the door,
        we wouldn’t want to let any dirt in.

You and I talk for a while. We share a few
   words of our own.

There is a quick, heavy knock at the door,
the first word barges in.
Slightly rough, tired and stressed, comes up,
shakes the hand.
“Hello, I am Fear”
So Fear comes in and sits.
We talk for a while. Share a few more
words of our own.
Then another knock at the door. A hesitant tap, like
someone was left behind.
Fear says “oh, thats my Of”
Fear yells at the door to “come in
and close the door and take your shoes off,
keep the dirt out.”

So we all sit and pass around
some words now.
It’s taking a while though.
It’s almost nightfall, and there
is one more word.

The sun is going down. Moon in the clouds.
A Word loud, roaring closer and closer.
A growing Light ending in my eyes.
A Light entering through the windows of my mind.
"Come in Come in!"
Such glorious Light. My door is open.
The knock is loud. From every direction.

Of is curled up in the couch.
"Fear" just ****** on the white carpet.
This knock will never end.

The door opens.

"Of" pulls it together, brings "Fear" to its feet.
Both "Fear" and "Of" stand to welcome this Word at the door, and together,
like a friend,
they comfort me,
they grow me,
make sense of me.
The last Word comes and sits with me.
All sharing words with the
"Fear Of God."

Don't bury me in the dirt
A place for grass , spring flowers and trees
Nor slip my body overboard
There's too much trash at sea
Don't burn my remains
I'm against air pollution you see
Just send me down the road
Make fertilizer out of me

Broken walls and cracked beams,
remind me of the cracks in the trees.
Everyday is just another game,
but nothing is the same.

Silhouettes dance in the clouds,
crashing into each other, so loud.
They shine down on me with shame,
but nothing is the same.

Blisters and tears in my skin,
invite the Devil to come in,
blood and dirt both look the same.

Every word is another temptation,
I'm just trying to find salvation,
some things never change.

No no no no
Where did you go
No no no no
I don't remember how I lost you
Now watch it workout
As I block the world out
I know these words aren't contained quite often
It seems the reply time is killing you
Coffin
I can wait while my shell cracks
Soften
I've gone past mad sad and distraught
I have to push it to the side like I just forgot
So walk toward the valley
 the way left
Was like premeditated ******
Less than unheard of
And I don't mind
The border of struggle
Electrical barbed wire
Low tier
A king in the slums
What's a king among bums
A common misconception
Within a skeptical selection
Women are
Seminar
Relax and take a seat
Men are
Rent a car
Come follow fleet
demonize
No no no
No no no no no


Behold
I am the low tier king of the mud

A crystal sun shines brighter
To crystal eyes
Than any golden sun ever could.

There is nothing to do here
But dress in black
Black and leather
And walk around in the dark
Bumming cigarettes and love
Off of people
You pretend not to know

I’ve lived in the thrush
and hot candle wax
a palm of welting skin pressed against a foggy window
damp with the grit and sweat of dawn
I stepped into the copse
bundled in its swarthy tightness
there is rot here
and flesh
the pulsing of a heart
giving life to each sapling and elder branch
if one wants to find the heart of the forest
look no further than up
the moon
a woman in her own right
no celestial body can deny this truth
there is a certain relativity to one’s heart
and to the extent of which blood and flesh and bone define us
I wanted to believe in something not purely physical
that could tell me what I was or could be
but my blood and flesh and bone
bind me
to the dirt and to the heart of the forest
which I hope
I believe
is not purely physical
in its own right