These are our millennial kids,
On them we should not keep lids,
As the future is for children,
Teach them to grow oxygen,
Else there'll be no air to breathe,
A dullton world one day, it seems,
Children grow up too fast,
Which generations shall breathe their last.........

Marry me into the spaces in your life,
Because the mountains shift ever so slightly to fill empty skies.
I was once the sky,
Searching barren deserts for mountains.
Until I realized, I am mountainous.

The day we roared with infinite jest the
larder packed tight with provisions burst.
So much canned meats, tinned, pemmican
hardtack we had stored knowing our
journey north would be sufficiently trying
that sustenance would prove difficult.

The slog.  The slacking day when you rolled
off the sled, creviced.  Your voice booming blue
crystalline as we see, no escape.  Trapped and
the cans I hurl into the hole.

Hours I read to you lipped, curled into a
snail, a shell, a crocus of yellow
a dread of
finishing the story and saying to you there is
no
more.  So you cannot tell, when the pages have ended
I make up confabulate truth and fiction
embellish.  
Pretend the story line marches
forward decades and we are in the Amazon;
You’ve discovered
that the water
that seemed
guileless is crocodile filled.
They bite hard and
you can imagine.

All primary colors on the
floes, all glacial movement, slow to melt, fast to burn through
the colors of our arctic rainbow.
I had primed the lamp the last night, before that dawn, before
the ride in which you fell.  
The wick trimmed and each
consequential action of the day I placed
hanks of hair
neatly side by side into banks of snow.  
Under my cracked tongue is
a bump that rolls
mole like cyst.  

Partner of my travels to this cold realm, your self shelved.
Below:  Did you hear me whisper?  Asking why today
have I become.  
The whispered promise of holding
upright against the dark.  I thought.
It would be magnificent.  

Not even fanfare.  Or aurora borealis.  Or flight.
Yes dreams of flying.  
Yes dreams of ahah so it is after all.
I thought I would recognize the moment of unleashing.  
What makes the special now?
If I whisper Abandon I might hear you echo in the ice.  I might see your
boot, attached to.  A glove alone, unpaired.

The story they lived, the story they tell is one of each husky,
one by one, no longer.  Starvation and then there are none.
But we are in the Amazon, and it is a scorching hot day and there is
much to be explored until you fall into the river and get bit.

I take it all back.  
You laugh because I add flying monkeys which is
us pretending that we’ve explored
this terrain which looks like a bed
in a room and a chart.  
They cannot
stop your bleed, and so we begin again.

Loving is a scary
Feeling
Today is happiness
And tomorrow is saddness.
Saddess of knowing,
That everthing ends
Regardless of time.

Let's unite in our origin story,
From way back when in history,
It's all for humans, but not obligatory,
The spirit behind all faiths, you see,
It's up to you what you believe,
Our psyches touched by grace, prithee,
None of us are one trick ponies,
All to do with our origin story......

It was the Earth's dawning,
The beauty of nature forming,
No mankind has even yet been born,
And the wondrous nature formed,
All pristine, no footprints seen,
Time elapsed, no one to measure it,
Only natural wonders the globe to fit,
Then, there came the humans, that's that,
How to wreck our own habitats!
Sad, but true, now to rue,
What was our natural world to you?

I scribble here, musing,
In my writer's mind, looming,
Is my muse a ghost writer?
A writer's mind has an insider,
How do your imagine your muse?
Like an ancient soul, thoughts to amuse,
Or is talent our muse?
Thoughts write themselves,
Creating lit. for bookshelves,
All a bit of a  puzzle, you see,
Musing on our muses, a mystery.......

I take your hand
And look at you
Feel your hands
Hold you against
My beating heart
As I rub my head against
Your head out hearts
Beating together in
Perfect harmony
Our hearts slowly beating
In happiness as your heart
Melts into my heart
Our lives shine like the bright sun
Our happiness in born and together
Inside our beating hearts
We set off in pure love into
The magical warm sun.

"That's the thing about pain... It demands to be felt."
-John Greene

Pain is inevitable.
Just like death you can't avoid it.
There is pain in sorrow.
There is pain in beauty.
There is pain in everything.
Even if it is the happiest moment it could still hurt.
You search and search for a painless event but you'll never find it.
The definition of inevitable is unavoidable.
There is no getting around it.
It will come into your life.
No matter how hard you try to block it out.
Pain is always there.
No matter what.

Unschooling chicks and dudes,
Attitudes acquired in school,
No one is a perfect human, great,
Anyone can make dumb mistakes,
There's Darwin and evolution,
But ants and beavers---theory pollution,
And there's diverse ways of doing Maths,
Some teachers are pussycats,
So, from antediluvian schools,
We must unlearn some of those tools,
The attitudes acquired in schools,
Unschooling chicks and dudes.......