If we can see
what we're doing
is killing and maiming
our very and only home,
why can't we simply stop
and commit to preserving
and nurturing instead?

Are we so in love
with the concept
of the painful and
untimely demise
of our beautiful abode?

Why is it
that the planet
on which we were born
is now, somehow,
not good enough
to deserve preserving?

You say we have the same eyes,
and I could spend eternity trying to wax poetic,
emphasizing ambers, honeys, and suns,
that can only mimic their radiance from our forms.
But they fall short of where my agony lives,
and I say agony because
lyricists say this is roller coasters,
ferris wheels, sunny days, and stormy nights,
where joy is the absence of suffering.
But somewhere in history,
four small hands grasped dirt and dust
only to find life inside,
abandoning philosophy for something more precious.
To think our fingertips have touched the same earth
is what the pious must feel before death.
How can you say we have the same eyes
when mine are wildfire tragedy,
and yours are January’s starlight?
When we were once rooted there was something shared,
only for it to be ripped from my body
to feel like a winter without snow.
I am undeserving, and yet
it will only be moments until I remove your ribs,
stealing ichor from the gods,
because it is my own vindication,
or perhaps,
the only thing I know.

And still, you only graze me like porcelain.

Start by writing your names in the stars
Scratch it deep into the cosmos. Deep into the black,
Build your dreams of connection upon what was almost.

One more swipe.
One more like.
One more swipe,
Running across falling cards,
Counting cards like calling cards.
I can’t feel my feet.
Tell me I’m beautiful
Dance with me through poems
And down the streetlights.
Talk to me with words whispered only in my language.
This anguish is killing me, but the shows only just begun.
We must vanquish the sin, and never run into the sun
Again.

the palette of the sky wanders
from crimson to dandelion
the waters dance by the shore
the wind sways the verdant
and hums with the breathing

it is a wondrous kiss of view
that comforts and cradles
something that we
always miss

that we are always desperate
to see, to feel
to breathe in, to keep
we click to capture it still
to yield a frame that moves
and holds life of infinite

i am filled with awe
every time i look at it,
it is heavenly—

yet we rather ruin her innate
comfort and cradling mount
to get pieces that are dull
and mundane

yet we prefer destroying
the green that shades
and shelters
to earn the green paper
so to use it later to savor
the serendipity only she can bear

The night reveals
all that daylight can’t diminish.
We are walking onward
to a truth without prediction.
Sacred and hallowed and
naturally untouched ground are we,
the chosen ones, to tread.
We do so not alone. Yet,
we are here
with the souls of ancients
and the infinity of Grace.
We see time as One.
We see us as One.

If one is inert
And ten is a breakthrough
You and I, in concert,
Add to a beautiful two.

If red is progress
And yellow is obscene
Us two, coalesced,
Somehow craft a verdant green.

With the earth above
And the sky below
I’d make a pretty dove
And you a peaceful doe.

Washed moss stone
Guarding turtle shell shores
Down the dirt road
You'll find the giant snores

A small stone house
With thin plumes of smoke
Beasts of burden sleep
Laid beside their yoke

The skies hang low
A dull and overcast Grey
A moment ago I left
Now wishing I had stayed

But I know within myself
That the way I chose is right
That in time the sun will rise
And bring it's brilliant light

For now the rain comes
If only but a shower
Through it I'll go on
Though I lack the power

To make it to that place
Solely on my own
The ideal in my own mind
That fateful seed I've sown

Yet the world about remains
And rests from it's great work
So I in turn will rest
In the belly of the earth

The clouds are the blood

of planet Earth, my mother --


the blood of my blood.