Segmented letters.
Sounds, pauses, communicate.
Leaning on the Word.

Collections litter boxes
                              unkempt
in the corners of my room.
filtering through snowstorms
of white laced with scribbled verse.

Memoires sewn in tapestry of
what was wondering within
the cotton of thought and the
needle of motion of my pencil.

There are momentary pauses
laced with eyes gauging words.
Then there are crumbled echoes
of what now litter a tiny  bin.

I walk from the room of my conscious
verses some unkempt in the corner,
others slung into a void of rejection.
I may visit momentary , but now I write.

Jump on the boat and take is real slow
Throw the canvas and splash that oil
Squash the duck feathers and fill the mill
As the harmonica cruises craft the talk real slow

A touch of the knee and the spark shatters
A charter of recklessness heckled in two-tone composition  
Not a monochrome but a  jest of kaleidoscope cores
A fearless horizon of sirens and chaotic applause

A sate of pureness, meekness;widely see this woman words
The worth of how she works, the sweat in her sincerity
Spot the little life that she holds, clutch her lifetime ascensions
The silhouette that shows and fades away,chase her palm

Stroke her freedom, take her high to the clouds and show her
Ask her to sing her sweetest prescribed proscriptions
Be the operator that jerks her stringed rhythmic blues
Shine ohh diamond, Strike ohh as you expand…… touch the sentiment