“when I see the moon rise in the deep sky, all  
large and looming,   that is hope

and as the sun is red-setting, throwing its last rays
of God-love over the hills,   that is hope

when a ranger sees the homeless man parked in
his illegal overnight spot, and decides not to
disturb his sleep,   that is hope

when you hear a dream from a friend of a wall of
steel wrapping your home whilst fire tornadoes
around it, and wake to find yours one of two
homes still standing,   that is hope

when a son who has received absolutely every
reason to leave, Will Not Abandon his abusive
elderly mother,   that is hope

when the city dims down enough to see the darkness,
lit by a Universe of stars——”

walking those shorelines
and rocky borders
between the heart & mind

on a mend
in an effort to learn
the signature of each lung

with the hope
that this breathlessness
parallels the transience of life

don't forget to look up from the sand,
from the little voice
between the two sounds of a working heart

the ocean raises a salute
for those moments
that never leave us

A storm brews inside my chest,
its hurts when I feel my liver.
Or my heart beat is 120 seconds
Lady doctor brilliant to say the least,
Was going to show me into x-rays,
but this arrogant top dog idiot,
took over and said my chest was fine
but there's massive damage to your liver.
I asked for more information,
and these words he wanted to severe
Continue to lay of the drinking,
and hope your liver can heal.
Now it was time for the next patient......

Hidden beauty in her sleep-less eyes,
agony with shadows floating in her head,
torment flows like a fountain with tears,
energy zapped by her anxiety and fears
And after all of the whispers been said,
snail like trails trace down from her cries.
little rest to face another day of torment.

shaky hands needs wine or a case of beer,
ease the black reaper approaching from rear,
that buzzing sound like annoying blow fly,
over and over each day until she dies,
her soul feels like the coals have seared
reach for my hands my lovely sweet dear,

Head on my shoulder, for a peaceful night...

I don't wish to see through my eyes,
darkness envelopes every-where,
cities keep building high towers,
building over the parks and flowers,

I can't wish to see your gentle hands,
they bury me quicker than quick sand,
your face lit upon impressions of the land,
You were an Angel wearing gift of hand band

Sweeter than fairy floss and paint's gloss,
I speak to my mirror image since your loss,
If I had wings, I could fly to a gentle spring,
and wish for sparkling diamond for your ring.

people say im idealistic
and that might be true
but its better to think
that there is a window with a better view
than the dreary one your looking through
because where theres room
for growth and change
there is also room
to stay the same.