Green night in the middle of the day…
Fire rising to ****** the moon,
Uncle Sam’s praying in my room
And the 8-ball will not say

Why a woman holds a gun
To her husband’s sleeping head;
Does she play or just wish him dead?
An armadillo’s included for fun.

Uncle Sam’s lost his hat in the fire
Maybe that’s why he’s praying.
Not for the country he should be saving
While we are conquered by liars.

I’ve tried to make sense of this before:
Masked fiddlers strum in the conflagration,
Dead books, butterflies and chimps run the nation,
…there is luggage on the floor.

Should I run from the scene,
Or stay and try to fight?
I can’t read my books in the deepening night
And there’s a skull waiting just to scream.

The man sleeps on with a gun at his head
And I see another skull by his side.
It must be a sign saying: “run and hide”.
But why can’t I do it?
There’s no way to get through it,
But I must wake up and fight or I’m dead.

June 1, 2006

i never saw the ocean
... until today.
it was striking,
yet calm,
but i knew at first glance
there would be no easy escape.
so, naturally,
i went swimming.
and dear god, was that a mistake.
at first sight,
it was a murky blue,
the kind that
hides secrets in swirls,
holds troubles and teases.
the kind that
you knew you could get lost in
but took the risk despite it.

as the sun set,
it became a cool, candid blue.
it breathed with honesty
and covered your every inch
with a sense of power,
whispering with wit.
just a small leap,
and you went spiraling down into its depths.
after all of this,
i didn't want a new beginning
to erase the remnants
of the beauty that had once been.
i was never more wrong.

as the sun danced higher into the sky,
the candid blue before me
had become a picture of genuineness.
the golden light had begun
reflecting
over the intermingling colors,
giving way to a light green,
filled with warmth
and dimpled smiles.
to look closer into this green
was like seeing
miles of untouched, rolling, green hills,
expressing a life of potential
and love.

no matter when i looked into his eyes,
the oceans of color and feeling
were always threatening to overwhelm me,
all beginning the first time
our eyes met.

the forest in June

i can feel the trees breathing, the wind whirring past their twirling leaves
the bark is course and clammy beneath my hands, notches and winding paths telling my palm a story of ages past
i can almost reach out and grasp the dancing smell of pine and wisps of a cloying floral tone
it's almost too heavy to breathe, and yet it fills my lungs with omnipotent liquid sun
flowers snake into my throat and down, deep into my chest
settling their roots like worms on my diaphragm
i exhale deeply and my breath leaks out like a creeping fog
it dissipates and past it my eyes bleed onto my cheeks,
dazzlingly delightful colours fill my vision, blossoming over my brain
and all I can think is how wonderful it must be
for my heart of green
to belong to the breeze

KG

The green field I used to frolic and play
Now shrouded in darken clouds greyed
With soil planted with nothing but graves
Vine and stone tablets with epitaphs engraved

I’m stuck between impatience and time moving too fast.
If only certain moments could hold off and last,
Yet let me be the first to set the record straight.
I know that, in the end, it will all be worth the wait.
I’m not here because I want to relive the past.
While times have been perfect, the idea is too vast:
To stay where you are, red, and not look for what’s ahead.
However, why is the future an idea i’m urged to dread?
While this time is exciting, and often inviting,
I see the circumstance filled with crying and spiting.
No, I’m not scared, or maybe I was.
I’ve learned that I can’t live that way, only because
I’ll suffer that way in this current time I’m in,
And living right now is already hard enough to begin.
I’m not here to sulk, i’m not here to brag.
I’m just impatiently enduring the drag
Of time, of now, wanting it to slow to yellow,
While I’m eager, insisting on life’s green light, “go.”
Time, a constant thing, still looks me in the face
To say, “you think you know it all, but I will set the pace”.
No matter the task, the toll, the race, I’m in it for the ride.
Meanwhile, I’ll tell my impatient indecisiveness that it’ll have to subside.
Maybe time is like traffic. “Do I gas it, or hit the breaks?”
Either way, I’m afraid of collisions, so that’s a risk I just won’t take.