I can own
seven wonderful tiny old rectangular turquoise Sri Lankan Jaguars.

But I cannot own
seven Sri Lankan wonderful rectangular old tiny turquoise Jaguars.

No.
That makes me sound crazy.

The clouds move slowly in their cruise along the sky,
gentle hues of yellow seeping through the cracks and crevices.
I open the jar, in which lies an ant—
suspended through time, encased in the beckoning dunes of sweetness which caused its own demise.
is it really possible to die of sweetness?

I look up the sky, the very same vast expanse of sugary white and blue and yellow
trusted by countless men to their own demise.

perhaps too much sweetness is
poisonous.
consume responsibly.

The night winds down to embers, left to die
All smoldering and seething, coiled apart
Like rattlesnakes engaging eye to eye
Instead of lovers sharing heart to heart.
This could have been avoided, some would say,
If they were different, were these different times.
Some better, more auspicious holiday,
Perhaps, but winter offers bitter climes.
Now elsewhere, things are better. Elsewhen, too.
The curtain falls across an empty stage,
Our actors long departed, longing too -
What's longing, as you're flying from the cage?
Together and together, free as birds,
Beyond the humdrum cares of poets' words.

Light of the lamp
In my eyes
As I hold tight
And stamp my approval

These are nor lies
But a truth that is brutal
Only to me
As no one can see
Blindness of not being me

Preconceived belief
As the proper pupils
Pave a path
They think their own
But they are not alone

They read another passage
On a piece of paper
Lose their independence
And lose their nature

And so we follow the proper path
The papers we read
Written by one who laughs

So shine that lamp
In my eyes again
I cannot read the proper paper
So the pupils I won’t befriend

Nails that scratch
Inside my brain
It makes no sound
This uncomfortable pain
All relief is in vain

It shall pass
As it all does
This screeching glass
This breath of saw dust

So I stop
Don’t make a move
I once fought
But all I can do is lose

I am afraid
Not of the feeling inside
But of the decisions I made
To make it subside

Nothing works
The screeching continues

I stand waiting because
It will end
As it all does