Sighing dreamily in the depth of a friday night,
Over all the clouds, over all our little problems the stars shine down,
Shine down onto the blue, little almost meaningless dot we call our very home, the sphere filled with the gift of life and its surprises,
It is the truce of a mind put into unrest and all those worries,
One might call it a wonderful heaven, another might call it the outer abyss approaching, as our sweet mother earth turns away from light,
But there is one thing we should all agree on, just this once,
The tranquility of the night, the allure stars all shining bright,
As each creature peacefully has laid down to rest and slumbers,
Suddenly all our differences, believes and arguments,
Have together with the light vanished into the consuming darkness,
In the orchestra of life, we all have taken our role,
One might be arguably more important than another,
However, all instruments are needed for this concert.
Even if tomorrow were not to come, I wouldn't care.
After all, life is too allure to rest my eyes under this river of stars!
And its transience makes it a tale conveyed in song,
With a heart open to what the next dream will bring.

~Umi

Have you ever been so tired, You're too tired to sleep?
Both mentally and physically?

Speaking of recurring themes,
these days all of my dreams
display in pallor,
static
salt and pepper gray,
where once they held a spectrum
vivid in decadence.

I won't die screaming, though,
I
will laugh until I
drive someone to violence
and come to grasp the consequences, full,
defined in foreign definitions
I will surely come to understand.
Then, in all likelihood,
wind up screaming, anyway.

You can choose what you are doing with now,
forever.

morning dew drops on your collar
impressing me with the zealous way the seasons drastically measure the moment it takes me
to reach forwards and brush it off
liquid winter falling onto a ***** cement
the initials 'F T' written jaggedly into the cold stone of asphalt
i wait for it to disappear, for the flicker of everything gone to fade from my vision
but it passes too quickly
i look back up and there's no one around
the street is empty and the capricious wind has ceased
a sucker for patterns i walk into a fabric store and feel my hand linger on the erratic linens
fingers paused on the peach organza sprawled like a pink bubblegum sea
and i am swept into the manic fantasies of wearing the sheer tissue-like textile into
the abdomen of your sweaty palm and sinking like a sticky sweet stripe
until you put your hand in your pocket and i spend a year inside melting
into the every thread and curve of your jean until it is nothing but disgusting sugar
everything i could be when i am hidden from sight in the dark caverns of denim pants
who knew the tongue in cheek joke would be nothing but my tongue in your mouth
touching all the way up your gums  
find me sweltering beneath the uvula wondering if i could go back
to the time i found that girl with the mountain logo sweatshirt who whistled between her teeth and hummed all the reasons i should skin my knee and kiss the salty wound because there's no greater pleasure than knowing you don't have to wait for that morning dew drop to fall from their ******* collar

Boy run ,run

She has come

She is beauty

She is honey

She attracts observers

She imprisoned them

She stole their hearts

She took their minds

She affected  them

They became her slaves

Who can face her?

Her eyes are wide

She  drown her viewers

They battled for safe

They battled to reach

The shore of safe

But they gave ,they gave up

Who can face her?

Her face is white

Shine at the light with bright

When it was seen

The hearts dropped at the legs

The minds got  paralyzed

She did what she wanted

Her cheeks were burning

With the red color made you shame

You didn't look very save

You couldn't look her

Her hair were free

Moved with the air

They were flew high    

Then they flew down
And your eyes followed hers