DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, in the middle the summer:]


one day
the twentieth of June knows no shame
comes back every year to call your name
breathes winds repressed in lungs forever
spits storms and yes in the middle the summer

seasons gloom
ashes are doomed
tears are pooled
in silence to float me the fool
dreams to a mercury's foot crumble
to awaken dark on a frowning stumble

a symphonious long
when hands twirl a touch
not you and me
in the song
ever alone crimed
that thing I called a one time
a sixth when parted lines


                                                         ­                                 -------ravenfeels

Walk with me beyond the sunset
and let's sip the sweet ferment of the day,
the pungent lung nectar of Summer's first night.
In her beautiful darkness the world contracts
and expands like June fireworks, heard unseen
behind the measureless shadow trees.
Walk with me here while time rests his tread
leaving the sky to stars and dreams.

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, June *****-again-nice day!! :)


smeared upon a timeline
ran invisible funny suitable to my vision fine
as if ignored
guard unsolved

swear for that once and all
swear tears dried trickled no more
swear pounding fired hope is just words
swear that armor I wore must be permeable to swords
swear those lyrics are lost on right meanings
somethings are already ought to the bleeding

don't know how to shield
a break of relief of a happy scene from this contaminated field
crashed sad sirens
for which hell they belong silenced

wrenching
hearts a singular crushed things a dilemma of clenching
flames swallow another
don't feed me a burn to forest ashed lovers


                                                        ­                                   ------ravenfeels

She's risen coarse on rusted tracks,
through sandy loam, a summer sheen.
Rainbows are but colour barracks,
fair violet, through verdant green.

Through sandy loam, a summer sheen
sparked exile of Fall's fleeting mist.
Fair violet, through verdant green,
adds tint to sun in pigment grist.

Exile sparked in Fall's fleeting mist,
cleared light, silky ivory.
Adds tint to sun in pigment grist,
silhouette of this noble tree.

Cleared light, silky ivory
are petals cast in modest mould.
Silhouette of this noble tree,
tattered leaves, raging wind unfold.

Petals cast in a modest mould
are magi of summer solstice.
Tattered leaves, raging wind unfold
simply envy of breezy fleece.

Magi of the summer solstice,
Purple blush on sun dipped petals.
Raging envy of breezy fleece,
Scalding wind that scarcely settles.

Purple blush on sun dipped petals
Rainbows are but colour barracks.
Scalding wind that scarcely settles,
she rises coarse on rusted tracks.

She steps
in tune
with night,
with moon,
to trace
the runes
of power.

July,
too soon,
will come—
she’ll swoon,
her lands
festooned
with flowers.

sky sprinkled
with cottonwood tufts
I watch them

float and fly
jump and dance

and the world
slows around me

the city sounds
seem to quiet

as if for
this moment

we are all
just as entranced

by the magical
miniature clouds

suspended in
time and space

holding our breath
so as not to disturb

these tiny,
gliding miracles

gracing us with
all the beauty

of a snowy winter day
in the middle of june