All of  the rowboats in the paintings
They keep trying to row away,
And the captains' worried faces
Stay contorted and staring at the waves.

They’ll keep hanging in their gold frames
For forever, forever and a day.
All of the rowboats in the oil paintings,
They keep trying to row away.

I Hear them whispering, French and German.
Dutch, Italian, and Latin.

When no one’s looking I touch a sculpture
Marble, cold and soft as satin.

But the most special are the most lonely
God, I pity the violins.

In glass coffins they keep coughing
They’ve forgotten how to sing.


First there’s lights out, then there’s lock up,
Masterpieces serving maximum sentences.

It’s their own fault for being timeless,
There’s a price to pay and a consequence.

All the galleries, the museums
Here’s your ticket, welcome to the tombs.

They are just public mausoleums,
The living dead fill every room

16 | 31 Poems for August

This poetry is a reflection of love, I’m just here to explain it.
The world is my canvas, you should see all the pictures that I’ve painted.
Violins violently playing symphonies of pain and misery.
It’s not a mystery how I have God sitting right here next to me.
I’m heading home from church, but this time I’m walking alone.
Sometimes reflections bring a sense of regress.
I smile even though the world keeps elevating my stress.
These hands have held together fragments of a fragile conversation.
We are able to talk for hours because these words flow with no hesitation.
You are lost in the world and you’re always left feeling alone.
Friends should never lose hope in trying to find their way back to one another.
Wherever you are I hope all these words find you.
Love is a beautiful thing and I’m here to remind you.
I’ll hold you together, I’ll help you rediscover the splendour in your smile.
Everything will be alright even though we haven’t seen each other in a while.
I’m in the dark about all the problems that you’re currently facing.
So lead me into the light and refrain me from being complacent.
Even the congregation knows you cannot always save everybody.
But hey, it wouldn’t hurt to at least try to save somebody.
We are all fighting different battles, losing limbs in the midst of war.
Maybe someone needs your love and light now more ever than before.
Maybe you could try saving somebody tonight.
God got us, I know we will all eventually be alright.

I listen

and let you take me along

always yearning, wishing

hoping that I might land, wondering why

I even need to find my footing.

I am a complex soul,

I keep telling myself that,

while around me,

in the active bustle of a sidewalk cafe,

I see faces,

so many lovely minds,

untapped but directed,

finding their own place,

their own quiet destiny.

~

I hear the winds of 'winter's

discontent.'

Remains in my mind,

always knocking in silence,

my pulse awaits a shift,

some opportunity to tick lasting effects,

define my confusion,

while you journey me on,

music, my violins,

I listen and feel pain,

then resonant delight.

I am alone,

inside a quiet dream of human interaction.

yet, where am I supposed to land.

I can at least, count on you,

the rhythms of my soul,

to take me along on a quiet journey.

Please remain discreet,

lest those around recognize

I may be incomplete.

As I lie on pastures 
Along the grimes of these woods
Breathing in the morning dew
I feel awakened and anew
Past sins washed away like the streaming river
Wondering if I've live till forever.

But then I look up to you. 
Your face looks shiny and 
new. The angels are gathered 
around you with their harps 
and violins. Singing that I’m free 
of my past sins. I think this is 
the beginning of something 
beautiful and not the end. Hand 
me my pallet and set the canvas 
up for I will paint a portrait of us. 
While the winds ruffle through the 
curls of your hair and the leaves of
the big old oak tree. I try to speak 
up words of love but it almost seems 
that the morning dew has set a flood 
from within. Come over dear and rest 
your bones with me while I draw this
portrait using my blood and tears. Oh 
darling won’t you rest your bones over 
here next to me under this big old oak tree.

Your beauty akin to the moon
Forever gleaming in her prowess
Shadows mortify at the thought of you
Your light begets hope thrusting miracles
I've been praying all my life
Stay with me my dear
As these woods as our witnesses 
We vow to be forever rooted from the veins to our beating hearts.
Now come closer dear and dance 
with the ventricles of my heart* ~