My mind frozen
time frozen
efforts cold
I still hold
My cellphone
in one hand
mouths chatter
eyes close .

///

Cold lifeless hands
inching closer
to hot smooth flesh
raging with *******
potential.
Throbbing heat and
angry breath
fills the room

an enduring cypress
immortal knotted rings
until death
two as one
held breath

a contorted filbert
purple catkins bring to flower
deeply rooted visions
creativity, awareness, knowledge
enlightened fruition

a variegated willow
to drink up sorrow's rain
in tolerance we bend
but not to point
of breaking

three trees
foretell a future
laced with little deaths
cypress, filbert, willow
lest we should forget

Recurring thoughts, dark visions of a reality that can never be. A false time with false hope. Harsh lives, perishing in smoke.

"The people around me,
They don't know yet.
they don't know..."
That you're the only one...
"Only one---- only one--"
-Look AT US!!!
"I DO!!!"
WE ARE REAL
      I cover my face,
I've started rocking again.
... Something to sooth an infant,
so why not me?
Because 'we' are here
No...
Say it, where WE can hear you
"no... No... NO! NOOO, No---- no, no, no."

I feel my fathers hands on my shoulders
shaking me, awake.
Another nightmare, I hear.
He holds me in his arms,
drenched in fear and sweat.
They've gone...

It gropes, rapes,
torments with film
footage, triggers shots
framed through a magnoscope

in dark recesses, strangles
with bare words wrapped
around each breath, laughs
as it seizes control. Cold

steel flashes, bores
holes until it bursts
and splatters all over,
taints restlessness

with glimpses, fleeting
walks through dreams,
eluding slumber
in circadian pursuit.

Metros of the dark are fearless
But closed are their eyes
To the human miseries.
Visions limited to human
Shrinks one's body to a grass.
No say in the global destiny
Firmly rooted on the land.
No hurricane plucks it
But direct every other grass in the neighbor
A global envelope, sealed at sunlight
May we all rest and live in peace
Where ever our feet touch the earth.

unknown voices
trapped in visions
find their reflection unappealing
shattered, they're left constantly longing for wingless angels

Miles upon miles
slither along old,
forgotten bends and
dance with evening
tides.

You exist across
the vast exploits
of their secret
vices.

I exist among
the roots of
their *****, deplorable
deeds.

One day, we
will encounter each
other's beings and
visions.

And what a day that will be.
-s.r.b.

When the trees grow old
And the wind begins to blow
The branches sway back and forth
And the leaves begin to fall.
The bark starts to peel,
And the roots grow weaker and weaker.

But if we climb that tree,
If we reach the very top,
We notice the clouds in a clear sky
And how they sway to the left,
Sway to the right,
Listening to what the wind tells them to do.

So if we jump to the clouds
We can look down and see
Everything going on
From a different perspective.
Our point of view sways one way
Or another because of what we want to see.

We can see it all for miles,
We can see the world from here.
We can see young ladies swaying their hips,
We can see the ocean’s waves crash.
We can see each spec of waste
We can see whatever we please to find.

But this is unnerving
And this is not how we want to discover
So we hop back to the swaying branches.
We sit and ponder our visions,
We can imagine all of the possibilities
That we have just encountered.

We can see that our tree
Is just as strong,
Is just as gorgeous
As that young woman swaying her hips,
As the ocean’s waves.
The peeling bark uncovers fresh sap
And the tree’s roots regenerate strong.

When the trees grow old and the wind begins to blow,
We sit on the branches, and sway our feet
Hundreds of feet above, and write poetry to our imagination.