As I lose my way
in an endless ocean
made of flowing knowledge,
my head feels like an anchor,
towing down my heart
below the waves of facts,
to the depths of information
as I drown I do attract
insatiable predators,
all the while,
above the surface
all is doomed to fall
beneath the rising tide,
slowly crawling up
to eat the howling sky

Breathing is not an option here,
Pressed against windows to fill
The cracks:
Don't let the water in.

The streets are flooding.

Find higher ground,
Ink bleeds down pages scarred
With words:
Save yourselves.

The streets are flooding.

Home groans against the pressure,
Begging to break and snap with
Powerless moans:
Don't succumb.

The streets are flooding.

"Find higher ground!" I scream,
They glare at me for disrupting
Their silence:
They won't hear me.

The streets are flooding.

The sound pools in my ears,
I used to collect rain drops in
Clay pots:
I want to rush the waves.

The streets are flooding.

I am too scared of heights to climb,
The glass is fogging I am trying
To breathe:
Open the gates.

I am flooding.

Skyward gaze, flash floods
Rain comes hammering down
Third eye closes, defenses rise
Not from an enlightened truth
But from the mutilation of war
Waters rush, beneath silent footsteps
A thunderstruck race to the end.

Without the flap of tiny wings or heart shaped arrows.
I wish you a feeling of perpetual bliss.
A emotion without a single shed of clothing.
Revealing to you every scar, each flaw that exists outside the thought of you.
Trusting that you won't take for granted the tenderness of giving
something so rare. In exchange for a listening ear.
Each jitter that hides in anticipation, hoping that you'll come with understanding.
Leaving behind the need to run when you see that I am none of the superficial things that bring most fantasies together.
The lavish things that surround a fountain of thought. Two bodies that flow into each other creating something more powerful than thought alone could imagine.
A sudden feeling that flows out through the mouth and flourishes into something powerful.
This might that flows in current is what urges my heart to throb harder with your every thought. An ocean of everlasting depth.
Telling you how I feel in accordance to my hearts wishes.
Holding your hand in this urge, hoping you feel it's current.
Without fear of drowning, over-thinking what your reaction could possibly be.
The slightest splash of excitement covering the parts of us we didn't know were there.
Breaking a piece of myself off in each splash.
Eroding in thought.
The small pebbles and seashells that scatter about the coast.
Sinking in layer after layer of current.
Creating the cheek that swallows your dimple whole.
Leaving the whole experience as indescribable.
A frequent flood of ever rising bliss.
Melting away in this constant current of you.
Constantly flowing

Shadows dance through mystic memories,
days gone by in yesterday,
I close my ears to see your face love,
as not to hear sad music play,

Every note a flashed reminder,
of nights I am,
without your kiss,
a melody in melancholy,
of nights we spent in purest bliss,

If only I could see you once more,
and run my fingers,
down your shape,
if only angels could love a human,
I know you'd come help me escape,

Your sweet shadow is so elusive,
I chase it round a foolish girl,
round and round in total darkness,
I think okay another whirl,

No more tears to bait the levee,
I'm holding back a deadly flood,
I punctuate another moment,
dipping in to sacred blood,

I ask above and still no answers,
for when I might just touch your soul,
I only wish I was an angel,
you see my beauty,
is my goal,

You showed me love,
but I can't touch you
cause angels they,
are so much more,
you found a body to inhabit,
and showed me love like none before,

My veins are crying with you gone love,
as it seeps onto a page,
when I look so uninspired,
I crumple up in endless rage,

No one can love,
as I can love you,
I can only crave,
to see your face,
though I can't stand this way I feel love,

my wallowing is such disgrace.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Forces unbeknownst to me await behind the heaven's gate,
And my father... a figure in the clouds, whose image calls so loud...
The ward who kept me under lock and key,
Who gifted me a script I could not read:
A set of prison bars too high for me to reach.

This grand composer of the songs and strings,
As I grow closer, turns around and seems...

Terrified... of me? My father runs, my chorus has begun.

So much to see, but the shadow...
The shadow strung with greed.
My shadow... whom I cannot leave.
Striketh other worlds with swords and lashes on a quest to mold!

My father runs. No! What have I unleashed?
A chaos tree with spinning clockwork leaves.
All I wanted was to breathe, but my breath moves mountains,
Feel, my breath that floods the ocean floor.
I am drowning.
Drowning in this music box's open sea.

cancer is like a flood...
Unwanted and fast striking...
Before you know it it's taking down buildings and everything you were once familiar with.
Destroying everything...
sometimes without you knowing....
It starts small, you see?
A simple cell in the beginning....
Then it spreads fast...
Even if you build up walls and think it will never come back if can still come back....
Like the river...
You try to find ways to keep it from flooding,
But that doesn't stop it.
It comes back stronger and higher each time until it spills over and floods towns....
Cancer is like that except inside your body...
It starts small and if you catch it soon enough you can do stuff against it...
But sometimes it comes back stronger and destroys everything...

A season for dubious
let profane intrude indignity here
hasten propriety of learned stock *******
a recessive gene was inherited by told orient
where least were optimistic died
and transfer went cain  
those amassed would wane entirely till dawn
again ancestors sensors of hate not doubt of such interest.

To the shy hamlet vivid are the hardships of last year,

how the brazen river had surged in—ravishing, moulding,

branding beyond repair. And yet, when the summer air hums

in the hush before rain, once again, on the crumbling fields

rancid memories give way to emerald reveries.