Does the world know when to cry?
Avidly, the decision of cold...
Could, is a word to the wise
Marveling at a tear one day, could love share a final goal?

Many ways, with a single idea
Mere to fore, the day of vanity...
Sat in high regard, but with sharing as a trophy
Little faces; renown is a pace of charity...

Devoted to peace, a savior will say:
In my heart, with obscurity as a gift...
Measure upon now, new is to be may?
A swallow of pride, with an eye to lift?

From due, we are a family...
For youth, we intend to be free...
More who, than we know; is a key...
Or soon, patience will keep time for me...

With the eyes of truth
Means to an end, is a waking deem
Silent as sent, but met with seeming couth
Simple might, we took; from the world's dreams...

He asked her if she would like him
to get her a cup of coffee.

“That would be amazing”, she replied.

“No”, he said. “Amazing would be, me giving you the world”.

“corny”, she said.

Nonetheless, he wished he could.

I have a recurring dream
Settle down
I'll set the scene

An old house I'm renovating
Quite large with many rooms

Outside the garden needs tending
A fishpond with murky water
Broken statue
Needs mending

There's a feeling of foreboding
I try to ignore this
Concentrate on the work
One day it will be
A fine holding

There's a cupboard that's hard to find
You can climb right inside
To a shaft leading down
A
Long
Way
Down
Once you reach the bottom
There's a tunnel
That goes straight ahead
Taking a walk down
I start to forget
It's small things to start
But the further I go
More is forgotten
I'm compelled to carry on
But where do I stop?
Until I've forgotten who I am?
Until I've forgotten how to turn back!
How far can I push forward?
Each time
I try to go
Another step
Forward
Then
One
Last
Thought
Is
Left
TURNAROUND

Each step back
Brings a memory back
It's at this point
I awake

Every time I return
The renovation
Has progressed
Fish now swim
In clear water of the pond

The feeling of foreboding
Is lessening
Birds outside
Now singing

But
That cupboard is still
Hard to find
I know
If of the mind
Could find
And one more time......

I once met a man made out of steel;- but he was too afraid
To disclose all the hearts he stole, instead pointing out
All the love he had bought, as one constantly waiting for
What’s in store. The wise con artist selling out dreams
Only to lonely fools, who buy into flightless ideas-
Such tall ideas, with the promise of giving them wings

And to those he came to meet;- his very eyes carved up
Their bodies, to offer as fresh sushi; a bloodlust fishman,
Holding a charm with such impeccable practice
He spoke love’s language, with words sharp as knives
Cutting all costs, to make any love feel exorbitantly priced;

Alas I present myself to you- the author of such dreams
I am a halibut; playacting to have tough flesh underneath,
Drowning in the endless submerging feeling, of love
Swimming an entire life; sinking deeper by a heart of steel,
Still, anything that must breathe, must certainly bleed.

As when I bought a taste of love, it indeed
Tasted like my very own blood!

there's a sea
on the other side of this dream,
you will meet yourself
there, on the shore.
she might say
"you're so much braver than me,
'cause, you see,
you've made it here on your own."
she could hold your hand
or hold back a laugh
when the waves catch you off guard
as they break.
there's a life
on the other side of this dream
to welcome you back
once you're awake.

Whirling vortex; -
I stalked a dream so smooth-tongued,
every whisper of it, had an attention to its
words- intentions to look so divine.

And for a fleeting choice of the moment,
I faintly enjoyed the lie.