.
Under fish scale skies—breaks the sun,
In myriad eyes, beamed longing across
Stupendous arcs in highest procession,
As we make our way in glittering dream.

Under quilted clouds, in rains we swim,
Wrapped in fibers and whim, a webbing
Embrace and steeples of mind to shim,
As we enter the waters from a shooting.

As child we ask, 'do we return to whence
We came, or do we end, after days, time,
Thru sorrows and bliss and sleep but lent,
Balm for us to bear loss of spent dream'?

Under winking stars and full faced moon,
We sing our songs writing a story loosed
And pray our hands, to a feather will turn,
As we make our way thru glittering dream.
.

Sometimes I feel like the moon
Some days I'm bright and cheerful
Eager to give love to all
Other days I'm cautious
Still bright, but not as honest
A few days you only get
The slightest glimpse
Of my heart and my smile
And then there comes a day
Where I shut everyone out
The sun is dark in my eyes
Because even I can't stand myself
But it always gets better
And I always shine bright once more

On distant mountain
Cold alone  but not lonely
Howling with the moon

I’m in love with the moon
For it never leaves me when the night comes full
It gives light in the dark sky
Which makes me love even more the night

I’m in love with moon
For it shows up every night
When I’m all alone and wanted to plight
When I’m sad and there is no one beside

And I am wishing that you are the moon
So that you’ll never leave me when the night comes full
And you will give me light
Under the sky of the night

But you will never be the moon
For the moon is consistent every night
While you are away and not by my side

the hungry moon possesses a mysterious silver blowtorch
we burn in the neon deliverance of
reflected light

a baffling massacre of comprehension
this universe
that moon

a barbaric balloon billowing, bobbling
suspended, aching above city skylights
an orb filled with the cinders of everyone's
feverish dreams

this night has eaten our sun
in a sauce of stars and churning  
cosmic milk

narcotic planetary stallions
galloping across the black vast
marbled table
of space

my bed a casket, my head an airpot
of dangerous fradulent circuitry and
rusted ginger

.
Under fish scale skies—breaks the sun,
In myriad eyes, beamed longing across
Stupendous arcs in highest procession,
As we make our way in glittering dream.

Under quilted clouds, in rains we swim,
Wrapped in fibers and whim, a webbing
Embrace and steeples of mind to shim,
As we enter the waters from a shooting.

As child we ask, 'do we return to whence
We came, or do we end, after days, time,
Thru sorrows and bliss and sleep but lent,
Balm for us to bear loss of spent dream'?

Under winking stars and full faced moon,
We sing our songs writing a story loosed
And pray our hands, to a feather will turn,
As we make our way thru glittering dream.