Only here till’ morning, so the night’s an open road and,
the beaten path only leads to mourning. An off-road traveler,
who escapes the chase of a pursuant sun.

Slow walking through river reeds.
A cupped handful of running water reinforces his state of being;
all but free.

Marathon of miles between, the first date on his gravestone and
the last number his mother reads at the bottom of his eulogy.
The hyphen shorthand for life and,

Missing the meaning through the seams, that connect his first day
to the day he leaves. An often-bereaved purveyor of shattered dreams,

Who stops to smile at every waving tree because,
even in despair he found belief beneath
the bared teeth of the machine trying to syphon from his peace.

A flower born from concrete.
Escaping through the cracked city streets;
out past the horizon line.

You may doubt it, but I've see it
What lays beyond all oceans
Never would one imagine
How easily all can be deceived
By a few books and a map
It is true that ice lays beyond our borders
In every direction it is inescapable
Some have pondered, guessed or seen this
Yet none but I know
What lies beyond even that
For you see this earth we are on
This place we call the world
Is but a mere portion
A section of the plate
Those things beyond it
Can scare be imagined
Unless seen with the naked eye
And even then they may induce madness
To eyes like yours
So readily accustomed to deception

I hope the supple touch
          Of all the women I have ever loved
Cascades like rain
          Over every inch of this Earth’s terrain
Let the sunrise kiss from her crescent lips
          Chase away the nights gangly grip
Turning barren fields
          To blooming bastions
Of roots and seeds, nurtured into
          The smile underneath a weeping willow tree
Raise the bones of change
          From their dusty graves of grief
Discard your flesh and,
          Bare to me only what lies beneath

The wick is fading, and I have no matches left
In this dark abyss where I sit depressed
My valiant heart has become a perch for crows
Smile shaped in stone
Each embrace stiff and cold from my marbled soul
My arms depict a grasping hand
Reaching for a world these etched eyes will never know
Trapped in the heart of a withered artist
His mad dealings mold and make me
A victim of his musings
Crafted in a candlelit madness
Delicate delusions and vague allusions
To courage in the many veiled faces of death
Carved and set at the base of the steps
Statuesque

who the **** knows how an alien would view us

terrified, at the awe inducing power
we've wrestled from the world
and the lack of respect we have for it

mortified, at the sheer opulence
we've dug out from the earth
and that the many shall never see

inside, we all know
that anything makes more sense
than a perspective that rung
even neutral

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, very old draft:?


maybe God just God maybe
the sea
the underworld not water meant to be
the air
the too much hollowness for a free soul fair
the fire
the heated blare that makes cold a liar
the earth
the destined
the chosen
ground
blessened
or is it not
because from where I stand people are standing alot
and a sane man can see the cuts
in eyes or in harmed hands and hearted plots
maybe God just God maybe
I am blind shot

                                                                   ------ravenfeels

Hustling winds,
through the silent streets.
A dying flower,
with a hope to live.
Thunderclouds,
in search of solace.
A blank paper,
awaits to be written on.
Somewhere amidst this chaos,
we met.
We met,
for the wind,
to break the silence,
for the flower,
preserved forever,
between the pages of our story,
for clouds,
to let it rain,
for paper,
decorated in smell of love.
We met,
like the limitless sky meets the land,
with memories sealed in clouds,
sailing across the silent blue ocean.
We met,
like the drifting river meets the sea,
mixing into each other,
making it one water altogether.
We met,
like the first drop of blissful rain meets the thirsty earth,
losing his existence,
to nurture her.
We met.

I am a blue planet,
My home is the universe.
I am a part of the solar system,
Revolving around the fiery sun.

I rotate on my own axis,
Only to give you day and night.
I walk on an oval path,
Just to give you season and climate.

I have my own luxury,
In the form of water, land, air and life.
I have my own children,
Named as plant, human, animal and microbe.

I provide them everything,
Whether it's food, water or home to live.
I provide them all resources,
Clean and pure air to breathe.

I give my everything to them,
Yet, they are expecting more.
They are so hungry of  their desires,
That they are not hesitating even to hurt me.

How long can I bear the troubles?
Now, I just want to cry on myself.
I am now suffocating in my own family,
Just need to relax in my mother's lap.

I am your mother EARTH,
What're you doing to me?
I have enough for your every need,
But yet, you're killing me slowly in your useless greed. . .