careful I was, not to step on the ants
on the trail--a red commando column, carrying crumbs
to their busy mound, on auto pilot  

feet from their hidden queen, a felled oak,
infested with termites, gorging themselves
on its dying flesh, a cellulose feast  

one day soon, when rain carries workers
off their course, these two industrious species shall meet
and their cryptic ******* will fail  

leaving them with the choice of fight or flight;
the former will prevail, for they can run but never hide,
from treachery that comes from so deep inside

When something terrible faces
me, I choose option
three
(the one cavemen never
thought existed):
freeze

yep, I am an inventor of the invisible
indecisive
slow-thinking
coward

Life is always beautiful and colorful.
But I'm not so sure I'm ready to be joyful.
Dear friends, and soulmates-clear your duties for today.
For, now is the day for getting free of things in our way.
Dear friends- we don't need a long time.
Just some free room and some free air to roam around, and feel  free.
Don't judge us by the burdens we have.
But, by the activities we choose or refuse.
Call it an instinct, or an intuitive feeling;
I've got my life in order for the dealing.
You've got troubles, I've got mine!

As an instinct flies
in a place of beauty
an untamed nature
footprints in ground.
Where frosty stares in the still air
will frighten the devil.
We hear the haunting howls
within the wilderness as we
search for all that is
wild inside us.
In each stride a dark beast
inside us roars
sharp claws scratch prison
walls and paws rattle
the jail house bars.

I am the mad man in the
lunatic asylum who howls
at the full moon.
Barks at the visitor
I am the crazy one.
I am the werewolf
Look into me and I will scare
every bone in your body.
As a band of brother we all give
birth to a fresh madness .
Bound together we feel the freedom
of just being in our nature.

And I am so so sorry that you
always feel like a prisoner.
As he is wild and on the outside
you hold yourself captive.
As he is the wilderness
you are the farmer.
And all of his territory surrounds you.
Be careful in the land of the untamed
beast listen for his frosty breath
a cold bloodied steam.

Frozen in the wolfs glare you feel the
force of nature.
A thousand armies may try to penetrate
and conquer.
But stone walled by an eye
they are kept on the outside.
As they hear a voice
from a bearded old man
Some call nature
others call GOD
Saying,
"GET OFF"
"I SAID"
"GET OFF"
"HE IS MINE"
With thunder in his spirit and chain saws
in his growl you know he belongs to God
not man.

They place you in a prison
calling it
Freedom of choice
I will crack you open
break you free
and give you instinct
with no choice.
Burdened by the baggage
of decision i will set you
a path which has
rhyme
but no reason.
Strangled by the mind I will
I will give a ferocious growl
that carries you right through.

Gliding through the wilderness you
race free following your instinct
breaking fresh snow each day.
Gain the thrill of your own wildness
and learn the power of running with wolves
in the wilderness.  
.

Your love ascended on me fearlessly.
I had no choice but to fall in love with your voice.
And all the loudness in my thoughts
your voice was the only one I sought.

Your love descended from me after a while.
rare connections separated.
all the times I meditated, hoping you come back down
my biggest fear awaits...your nowhere to be found.

Now your love is teaching me how to heal and be free.
There's no need to fear I'm always right here.
so I went with my instinct and let you be.
Trusting with all my soul that you'd make it back home
but you got lost and I must let you go. Go back to where you
came... I learned my lesson anyways.
ALWAYS TRUST YOUR INSTINCT

The feeling sings pleasent discourse between the lengths of my young ribs
Swelling and rising like the tides of the fear I had long forgotten since the blunders my youth
The need
The want
The longing to not be left lonely again.
And I'm spiraling in the wave of the aftermath of your touch
Running scared in the ivory forest hidden under layers of skin in the base of my chest
Screaming with the choirs of my blood that this will not do
This is never enough
This is all that rings out in the cathedral in me
As all I am lifts my hands to the light
And falls to the floor in fear and wonder at the weight of it all
The breath in your being
The swing in your step
All illuminates the war in me
The fight in my own body
Between instinct and reason
Between love and lust
Within this bag of blood there is no trust
And though my wings are clipped I will still fight to fly from this
From this inner turmoil over your teeth
I wanted them and I needed them but now I can barely see
Externally stable but internally battling a boiling sea:
This fear of you and this fear of me.
The feeling wages on.