Rigid, impasto clouds
Stick out of the sky
Like Van Gogh
Put them there himself
Sky peaking between
Buildings and towers
Pushed and pulled
Twisted and ripped apart
Like fabric tearing slowly
Moved by the breeze
Invisible currents slicing
A silent cacophony of air
I reach up and feel
Solid, dried paint crackles
Under my finger tips
I pull my hand away
Digits stained white and blue and gray

Shifting streets and their buildings
Pulsing and moving and shaking
Jagged and prickly corners
Edges of windows glint
Like drops of blood
On the edge of a sword
Walls and sidewalks
Rough like a giant cat's tongue
The skyscrapers carve the landscape
Into a distorted forest
An amalgamation of today
And yesterday and the day before that
I reach forward and feel
I pull back in shock
Fingers pricked and knees scraped

Soft-spoken with the loudest presence in the room
A March wind that caresses through
Petals of daffodils in bloom
A salted sea
Stinging fresh faces under the moon

Eyes blue like the world under cloud-covered dusk
Eyes like the clouds and everything beneath them, his dusk
He returns to his place by the sea
The new moon brings new clarity

by now my cup would have been filled
with the grace you sing to my name
and how you string sentences together;
letter by letter, thought by thought.

tell me, what does your mind sing
whenever we read the same page of poetry
or listen to the same songs over and over
that they seem to be a dull buzz

a static, a background noise
a façade for something,

                   (dare i say a tryst?)

or would fate call that too early?

but by now, i'd listen to you
speaking my name like a prayer.
maybe for once
i will believe in religion

as long as you're the one

                             preaching.

Lover,
I need you to stand still
with your feet in the water

Let me drink your reflection
to quench my thirst as you
try to hide your tender smile

I beg of you,
don't leave me,
because then the sun will burn me,
and the sea will swallow my ashes

I can see how not many people couldn’t get it
I can see how I demand the attention but at what cost?
Uncertainty is a game for the conscious, those who are unconscious are innocent
It’s easy not knowing but then again, I crave
Of imagery, beauty, adoration
The shadow who smiles wickedly, cackles underneath
It was never that what I seek but it’s a must
Is that how we suppose to live? The shadow will do so in order to sustain
The imagery, beauty, and adoration
But at what cost you ask? Nothing
Just shame, pain, and the shadow cackles again wickedly

A river of milk and honey
and a fountain of coconut water
was open to any who were thirsty

Colored grapes gave into their feelings
then later gave birth to a drink
that tasted like truth
for mouths to speak

Cherry kissed whipped cream
while fudge, vanilla, and caramel
swirled in their *******

The pies were hot and ready
getting out of the oven
and got laid on the table
whiffing of apples, blueberries and pumpkin

Like a king on his throne
was a thick cheesecake
sitting on a layer of crust
with a crown
of strawberries and strudel

A jar
of peanut butter, oatmeal, and red velvet cookies
was out in the open
for any hand to dig into temptation

Awaiting on a front porch
was basket of
Cranberry, banana, and cornbread muffins
For the door to open
And be welcome into the house
where souls were craving
for something good