The river has pressed
Sleek backed
Beyond the bank
Forcing walkers back
Giving ducks new horizons
Opposite me here
Wet-footed on the bench
A bare tree is troubled
By some submerged thing
Making a frail and trembling hand
Of its upheld branches

Water moving through this place
Like a dark serpent
Water that fell on hills
Yielded from ice
A hundred miles from here
Passes me now
Passes the willow
Hanging in the last
Orange light of day
Trailing its fingers
In coils and eddies

It is all framed here
Indifferent and alive
Alive and forever passing

Poems flow in a stream
That winds through me
As I guide them,
Through meandering, uneven
Places in my life,
Or once in a while,
The smooth runs
Where fishing seems easy.
And I collect the pretty stones
That come to rest,
Water-washed, shining,
Along the river’s bank.
And often, there is a pool,
Green-blue, with clear water
And trout shadows, swift
And still, making a brief home,
Suspended above the sand.
Those are the ones I choose,
The surface touched only
By tree-filtered sunbeams
And beckoning on summer days.
It seems sometimes to me
That poets travel backward
Up to the source of beauty,
Where the water is still pure,
After struggling up through
Rapids and waterfalls,
Or wading through swamps
Down where the stream ends
And a wide river opens up.
Giant rivers can be majestic
But they often bury the gems
Brought down from the
From mountain caves and highlands
Swallowing them to swirl,
Mixed-up with the jewels
Of other poets’ streams.
And from remembrance
We gather our dreams.
Does sorrow fill the traveler
Who reaches the dark places
Where springs emerge
From some place we cannot see?

Near a river blue and clear
Birds chirping is all I hear
Sitting on a grassy hill
Chicken cooking on the grill
My family is there
We all sit in a square
We share the food equally
And have the food peacefully
Then we have a treat
Which is really sweet
At the end of the day
We all drove away
~29/3/21

I cloud my perception
From the judgement of
The sun

Confluence of love
Is the of sound of two rivers
Thundering on

Meandering across mesas
Veins of the upper crust
Flow through our entangled palms

I'm going to
Throw our whole book
Into the river
And drown it with my screams

I am going to
Hope
It floats away
With nothing more than ****** streams

I am going to
Jump into the water myself then,
I am going to plummet and pray
That the waves are struck by lightning,
Setting fire to my body, our book,
Both of our dreams.

It seems easy for you
to shut off
your affections for me.
Of this, I am envious.
My love is a strong current
Uncontained
in the wild river of my being
Slamming into rocks and timber
without mercy.

Attempts to build dams in this stream
fail miserably
when its roaring waters tear through them
like paper.

The noise of the river,
tells tales of love,
he says it's fake,
like all things of the heart,
but there is truth in his lies,
and lies reveal the truth,
he hurt those he loves,
love is a beautiful thing,
but is death's disciple,
he thanks her for the feelings,
and the memories,
but hates her,
for they are only memories.

The noise of the river,
tells stories of lust,
he says it is a welcome enemy,
for it tempts him,
lust is of love but love is whole without it,
the stories are accounts of dreams,
for lust does not love him,
not anymore,
he is chasing after her,
looking to atone for his war crimes,
in the battle of love,
his hidden wounds **** him slowly,
he dreams a happy nightmare.

The noise of the river,
preaches about salvation,
his says his old friend awaits him,
loves master,
he wishes to see me too,
he gives an account,
of our beautiful evil that awaits,
I stand up,
my distorted reflection,
portrays me clearly,
but not at all,
I smile,
                           pure
a low life does not deserve this,
**** it all
as I shake his hand
and plunge into the river.

The feel of the river,
reveals true sorrow,
I envy the river,
for he has a plan,
had a purpose,
I failed,
so they all left,
they are upstream,
smiling,
I wish to take their smiles away,
as I let the river take me,
I lost my way,
the river is all I know,
he will help me achieve my dream,
of unleashing beautiful carnage.

The noise of the river,
and myself,
we are one,
                                        we always were,
I understand you now,
my friend,
you taught me about hate,
this world is just to spite you,
I hate it too,
you hate me now,
because we share a conscience,
not for long,
now I am the welcome enemy,
the river still flows,
with all its trash.

It's my only friend,
when the others leave,
I never sleep,
for the water never ends,
My friend is crying,
So I try and clean his eternal sorrow,
I sit and listen,
There is no other way,
No other place,
but here,
by the river.

I run in the river, I'm lost, I run.
Watching While rocks roll past my feet, I'm done.