Take it with a grain of salt they say
little do they know
that one grain
does
make
things
salty

I'd silt there beside a barb wired fence
and once praised these vagaries again
then yesterday at daybreak  
as aft-dew came this flow-r  
and hit hers in between rows of attire
where her beauty was herd in raindrops today
and altogether was something very big
with milk and honey in a market of wares.

We are but a lingering breath in the
                                  void of existence.

When we exhale a final vocalization
                of our moments that shed a tear.

We are but a grain of earth that grows
                          petals. that will always fall.

Our place is in memory, we are but a breath
                                               
                                              in a grain of sand falling.

I am the last grain of sand in the hour glass. I await the fall.

Sometime early in the year,
Calving drawing on,
Seeders and tractors
Lose their dormant chill,
Began demanding preparation,
Murmuring anticipation:
"Clean the seed for planting!"
"Till the soil and ready it for seed!"

The farmer, wanting rest,
Anxiously awaits first sprouts,
Anticipates the time to till the noxious weeds,
Watches capricious sky for signs of rain or hail;
Tends fences; guards his fields,
Where ripening grain cannot predict the yields.

June scrambling begins:
The readying for harvest,
The hopeful storage plans,
The preparation of harvesters
Expensive beyond budgets,
Soon to lumber out and gather
Dying summer in....

Autumn's chilling breath
Calls quickening to the work:
The gathering of straw,
The hauling-in of hay,
The opened stubble fields for cows;
The planting of winter wheat,
That first must sprout before frost....
(If not the seeding may be  lost).

In the very dark of night
Where everything is out of sight
With a knife on pale white flesh
I made a creation, new and fresh
Bright and red I drew some reins
Trying to redirect the pain
Away from my swelling brain
So some sanity I might retain
But once I started I couldn't refrain
Knife sliced, blood flew
Laughter ensued
Now my body looks like tracks of a train
Everything still remains the same
Pain and agony stubbornly still remains
Nothing lost well ever be regained
Like the sand on the beach, I'm but a grain

When you're doing something against the grain of society's flow you're either magnificently aware or pathetically wrong. Good luck finding out which.

six string serenade
she smiled
she played
as her fingers bled

cool blue in shadow
a memory flees
caught sipping China tea
all the way from Spain

if I call
on a phone
hung on a wall
can I call
in all my memories
of tomorrow
. . . collect

(follow anybody , every grain of sand has destiny . . . and a duty . . . every single separate , meaningless , grain . . . of futility)

I hide myself                                                                                                             Beyond those crossing clouds                                                                                  Simply because it's my temporary domicile                                                          Over there ...                                                                                                             I hide myself                                                                                                             In a spider's web                                                                                                       Simply because I feel it good for some time ...                                                       I hide myself                                                                                                             Inside a shell                                                                                                              Simply because I love to be there ...                                                                    I hide myself                                                                                                         Inside a grain of sand                                                                                           Simply because I feel better ...                                                                             My house is merely now                                                                                   An ugly tent that smells nasty and                                                                     I feel cold over there ...                                                                                         It's me located anywhere and everywhere                                                         like any piece of rock or a piece of stone ...                                                        It's me missing in this world's sufferings and pains ...                                       Loss accompanies me and its shadow                                                                Prey on me ...