I heard you singing
oh what a melody
awakening me
to cool clearness
to a fresh nearness
and peaceful resonance
with the preciousness
of Earth.

Contrast the days of anger
creeping and seeping into me
in such stupid little things
as an unscrewable top
a ***** fork dropped
a page that wouldn't turn
a candle I couldn't burn
talking barking heads
fomenting darkness
and dread.

Last night I saw your sympathy and sadness
as I poured out my madness
into the bowl of your heart
threads in me torn apart
dangling jangling my nerves
and knotting my stomach
but there you sat calmly listening
your eyes glistening
full of understanding and love

oh what grace
what a delicate lace
woven of affection  
through you
from above
to cure my affliction
to settle me
into my soul
into that sacred soil
where heaven is sprouting
right there below my doubting.

And so this morning
from the tendrils of my sleeping
I heard singing
the larks and love
God and Earth are bringing
and dancing behind my eyes

until they opened
and beheld
an ever burgeoning
ever startling
spring.

fight war with beauty. fight
evil bloodshed, the sounds of
children whimpering in the ruins of their homes and
the elderly leaving the only land they've ever loved and
the continual struggle to perpetuate war with
beauty. we can rebuild shattered buildings,
torn land, and broken flags,
but i mean the beauty found not in
material things but in our hearts.
fight not with angry slurs and
faces crumpling in careless ignorance;
fight with a full heart that hears the
stories unsaid but written in the scars of children.
fight with a heart that beats not as a citizen of
a single country, but as a resident of the
planet Earth--fight for your neighbor's right
to live without fear,  for
this sacred land to know love again, and
for humanity to know itself again.
war's costs are immeasurable and
beauty's worth, infinite.
fight war with beauty and
hate with love

Forest inquires:

How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise,
give it a face, surrender to the poem's own
vanity,
        and choose the poem's alignment?


                                                  an­ answer forms:

this alignment idea,
you think it simple,
everybody understands
what your inquiry means

alignment -  the appropriate relative position

we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer
                                                                ­                        from the Theory of Poetic Relativity

                                                   ­             i love your question;                              hold it to my nostrils,          
                                             ­             smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;
                                                                ­      
 kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple   soulfulness essential arousal;
for you see sir you have found
the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;

                                 answer no good, wholly insufficient?
                                        perfect.
                          as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note

                              
                            ­                        the earth has moved
                                our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times
                                    time and space have appropriated our prior
                                          
relativity

when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading  

and what was


**right before has left and the center has moved again

Anxiety is getting quieter, but it's not gone. I feel it in my periphery, knocking and scratching. My walls are a little stronger today, and a little stronger everyday. But there's always that unwelcome guest tapping on my door. I hear it whispering through the boards, little lies I don't quite believe but I can't quite ignore. Each day is a fight.

Depression is a little louder today. Not quite loud enough to leak but it falls like rain on my roof. My roof is a little stronger today, and a little stronger everyday. But the rain still falls heavy and cold. When I find a leak, I patch it. Trusting the patches hold longer than I do. The rain makes me feel heavy and cold. Each day is a fight.

I left you.
I don’t deny it.
I also don’t deny the spark that turned into an explosion that was our love.
But like all explosions, they leave damage.
I left you because I was selfish.
Because I was so close.
A wise woman once told me, “to love is to give a part of yourself.”
And frankly, I had a habit of giving everything.
I began to visualize the future I know we’d never have. A future that’d haunt me.
I began to fall deeper and deeper in love with you and I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to fall for you so early.
But I did.
I wanted so bad to give you my love, but I also wanted to protect myself from heartbreak.. How selfish.
I left you.
I love you.
I don’t deny it.

It's a cycle of repetition.
Mesmerizing a smile.
Falling for the eyes.
Having their voice echo in your head throughout the day.
You go through the phases, yet they don't.
Finishing a race, not realizing they have already quit.
As if they were the rabbit and you were the turtle,
doubtfully but entirely getting ahead.
Failing to notice that the break they took,
was a sugar coating way of splitting to a separation, forever.
Today's love is nothing of love.
Only empty promises and wandering souls floating in and out of others.
You wonder why they take your time as something so limitless.
The connection so quick and intense, that in the moment things seem okay,
but as the spark starts to die, you realize, it was nothing but a minor flame in a wild fire.
It was only, just a click.

Find what you can't express
and pin it down in words

Find what you can't see
and fabricate it in fantasies

Find what you can't feel
and embody it in adventures

Find what you can't speak
and let your eyes vocalize

Find what you "can't"
and challenge yourself

Find what you "never"
and take it a step further