When I was sketching this afternoon,
my strokes seemed unsure
and my lines were all wrong and
I realized some things about you.

The reason your fingers
always seem to be slipping
every time you try to catch a
handful of waterfall
is because once upon a time
the rocks that your soles were planted on
crumbled.

You used to be a deer,
the way you stood on new heights
and how you looked on
with a steady eye, so
when was it that you decided
one more step was too much for you to climb?

The burying must stop.
It has been proven time and time again
that no matter
how deep a grave is dug,
the flowers will give the bones away.

I don't understand why you
confuse seawater with fresh, because
I know that you've already stuck out your tongue
and tasted the sweetness of real freshwater
or have you?

You are dust
walking in deep shadows
where I cannot find you.
I have only a candle
and my words, but I will wait.
After all, in the beginning,
something beautiful was made from dust
and from a word
sprung a world.

And lastly I realized that
I hope that you someday read this poem
and we will sit together in the afternoon sun
and you will listen to the sound of new things
as I sketch with sure strokes
and just the right lines.

When I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
She keeps my life so busy
I'm never nodding off

Occupational hazard
Is what my baby breeds
I feel like Merle...always Haggard
If you know what I mean

Some days she is a walk in space
Guess that makes me an Astronaut
Other days a Florist
As I arrange her Forget Me Nots

I've even been a Farmer
When she leaves me standing out in left field
Also working in the Dairy
As she cries over spilt milk

This girls is definitely a workout
So add Body Builder to my resume
And some of the things I've found out
I'd put the NSA to shame

Don't forget Taxi Driver
As she runs me all over town
Also Professional Mover
With my heart continually moving South

I've become a top notch Surgeon
The times that my hearts removed
And a teacher of higher education
When each lesson learned is new

Yes, when I'm with my baby
I know I'll always have a job
As she keeps my life so busy
No way am I nodding off

Gracious angel, held just past my reach
I remember running wild with you, at the beach.
Extravagant white dress, manicured tresses,
That you let the water touch.

Fallen angel, at my feet,
I remember you begging to finish me.
Enough black lace, curls around your face,
That you let defamed hands touch.

Weeping angel, at the stairs,
I remember you saying you never cared.
Simple jeans, hair lost in the breeze,
Which the waves of my love couldn't touch.

i am a whirlwind of rain on a hydrophobic world, an angel
of death scraping by like a vulture, picking at skin and bone
and leaving scratches on doors and blood puddles on floors
my blindness is as translucent as a jellyfish's sight, my mind
is shattered, and my memory is coming back slowly, piece by
brittle piece, and the emergency exits are sealed against me
so i travel in concentric circles trying to find a way out of this
labyrinth, only to catch the waters attention and grasp me by
the throat and gag me unconscious, only to see black afterward
i'm living each day through my mistakes, and making up for
it with cold revenge with haphazard patterns, abstract words,
and navigation through uncharted waters where i've drowned
not only everybody else, but myself, in this complete denial

- kra