delicate moths wish
to kiss
  your oxygen-eating fingers,
   as you gently consume
    sun-dried limbs
     of monster-trees.

     your dear children,
    born of the plant flesh
  you disintegrate,
dance on the whistling breeze.

should one of your young
  dare to tiptoe
   on brittle blades
    of winter-deceased grass,
     she will grow
      more impressively
       than you,
        her mother.

    she will indulge
   in tender gluttony,
  softly swallowing whole
the homes
of woodland denizens.

conceived of woodpecker houses,
  her own daughters
   enter the world,
    spread their mother's warmth,
     just as your sweet baby
      did with yours.

and forever you burn.

Hopscotch
Sasquatch
Let me see
Let me smell

Walk,
Run,
Fly through my pain
Who cared once

I am but none
Dizzy, as the world
Shaking, as our edifice
Let me hold, Caris, on fiery arms

By nothing I’d swear
If by the love I feel
Like electricity
A shock to life, and my engines are quiet

I’ve burnt my fuel
Rather, it’s been burned by others
I gather wood before
Only a few musty branches

But you, I find
Deep in the dark night of the woods
By a huge, dry oak
“Would you like some?”

I can’t tell
If you can’t chop it on your own
Or you want to share it with me
But I could use an oaken heart

To burn together
To make a fire of wonders
To warm up the night
To cuddle, rest our lips together

Where does the road
In the forest go
How many fires will we light
How many nights will we lay together

Maybe the forest will be
A kind home with you
Or maybe we’ll exit
And find a riviera of gold

Wherever we are
Wherever we go
I’m glad to share the fire
I’m glad to share our selves

There is music, coming from afar
Can you hear it?

The frogs of the forest
Are seldom silent.

Their croaking resonates,
Moving the air like liquid.

Other animals are forced
To listen to the tiny tyrants.

One of the frogs hesitates
Before saying,

The frogs of the forest
Are seldom silent.

i step out of the warzone.
leaving the worries and anticipation behind,
melancholia washed off by the waves of excitement.
to the forest i go, to the shadows of bulbous trees i hide.
away from reality, away from society,
away from the rockets and away from the bullets.

the lead in my heart dissipates.
in the branches of evergreen spruce –
my horrors and sins, caught, tangled, and trapped in wooden reach.
as i venture into the deepest secrets of these lowly woods,
carrying with me a camera, so heavy and so light –
capturing the whispers and movements of life.

this has been my tradition in years past.
when i am hanging by the thread and hope seems lost,
i go to my haven where life flows freely.
there i find the importance, the mysteries,
the magnitudes of this world – all things i have been ignorant of.
looking above to the heavens,

sheltered by the canopies of multitudes of green.
the damp, filthy earth lingers.
i am wrapped, masked, and bandaged in maternal care.
the mourns of yesterday silenced.
the wounds of yesterday deteriorates,
decays with the fallen foliage,

that gives life to something new –
these years have been a collection of videos, photos, and poems.
a trek to the woods away from the war of the extremes –
full of short-lived happiness followed by long days of sadness,
like a short summer thrill, interrupted quickly by winter’s chill –
so abrupt and so rude.

the song of the birds and the ancient branches stir joy in my heart.
the mosquitos cherishing every bit of fresh blood –
reminding me that i am alive – and very well appreciated –
a living sacrifice to aid in long winter days ahead.
now, that i am reminded of the impending cold – all this colour and life
will soon fade away and under the roof of war i take shelter yet again.

That first, frosty, autumn morn
I ventured out into the woods.

It was crisp and cold,
My breath hung momentarily in the air.

The trees had shed their leaves In the windy days
And were now carpeting the forest floor.

My first step onto the russet and gold carpet
Crunched so satisfyingly and each step the same.

I set off at a brisk pace,
Leaves crackling and rustling underfoot; so pleasing to the ear.

I continued my walk across this golden carpet
Accompanied by the leaves’ susurration

And remembrances of childhood,
Playing amongst the fallen leaves.

In a forest
Of twists and turns and nothing honest
Everything is deceiving
The deep trees
Hide chaos unravelling
the leaves are dry as they rustle in the breezes
The footsteps are unnoticed
Nor a care is given to those wheezes
The lakes overflow
As it rains with such a might
Still no flood in fear that its not a strong sight
In plain view it's a secluded space
A good distant scenery that hides ugly grace
Plenty a tree and many a river
So much everywhere
Yet it feels hollow
There is always a hue of unknown sorrow
A dark ground that's sees seldom light
You will hear faint voices
In the vicinity when night
You can't escape this
You never will
And can't change it
But can pretend you did
Yet you'll not be freed
From this forest
One of a kind
The mind
Whose demons won't be tamed
As eventually even your soul is claimed