Sleep the rock
Had Pete the Peacock
On his back
He didn't know about that

But it's a fact

I
Like a blind man
Follows
NYC's winter lands

II
Like a fallen tree
So soft
And hollow

III
Like an arrow
Shot through the last
Sparrow

IV
Like a shadow
Hung from a tenement
Window

I
Like a blind man
Follows
NYC's winter lands

II
Like a fallen tree
So soft
And hollow

III
Like an arrow
Shot through the last
Sparrow

IV
Like a shadow
Hung from a tenement
Window

Snow
I need you to go
My soul is full of woe

Snow
I need some light
To warm my hands to write

Snowbird
Without words
Poetry unfurled

By wings
Flitting
From tree to tree

I observe
Snowbird
Without words

Solitary mist
There you sit
Above me like a cist

You desire
To take me
Away from life's fire

I resist
You persist

I let go
You let the snow

Roll in
I'm gone

So is my sin
And song

Silence
Move the moon
Awake the sunlight
From the slithering night

Speak!
Silence
Speak!

From the distant deep
Forests
From the unheard mountain
Streams

From the lonely
Tombstones
From the receding midnight
Streets

Speak!
Silence
Speak!

There was a wham
Who bolt a dam
With a ram

He rode a scorse
Of course
All cowhams do

The sky was ranger blu
So tru
Witty bits of wind

You understand me
As I change the spelling
So why write right?

Squishy shoes sighs
Wonders how his owner
Is getting by?

Dry?
No, poor fella
Forgot his umbrella

Born
From
A thundercloud

Storm

Roaming
Fire
Barricade to human desire

Storm

The ocean
Ire burns with thunder
While sun feebly watches her

The storm

When born

Does not know he’s a storm

For there is no definition formed

The sun, snow, and rain
Will not remain
On your grave

Through the seasons
We’ll conquer demons
Together I trust -

With our strong dust

Life is like a fire
Struggling

Like rocks in a river
Resisting

Like trees in the wind
Opposing

Life is like a fire
To attend

To expire
To keep as a friend

The curtains open
The curtains close
Upon an empty coliseum

There’s a lonely raven
Adorn in black-satin
Who quoth: “Where’s Poe?”

The day

An idyllic grey
Seeped like waves into my cave
While I fought
For life
Between sunshine and shade

The flowers in the field
One day my body will yield
Buried without any shields

The flowers in the field
The stems - we'll be friends
As I grow up into them

The flowers in the field
In the wind we'll sway and feel
As new fingers touch fresh reality

The fly
And I
Will die
Only humans
Wonder why

Consciousness
The screen door universe
I filter through
But will the fly
And I

Converse?

The last leaves
Will rest with me
Make a December bed

The last leaves
Will feed me
With moisture beads

The last leaves
Will bless me
Wings to eternity

What a shame
Pope Damasus
Didn't ask us

Prayers for our masses
To change how we speak
To Latin from our Greek

The mist
Presses
On my chest
Like omnipotence
While I'm a blank thesis
With a flimsy existence

We were at rest
I and the poetess

Under a tree
Called "Poetry"

Spiraling branches upwards
Evolving with new words

Falling uniquely on the
Ocean
And sand

I try and understand
Life beats of commotion

The poet searches
Continuously
For beauty

While the rain
Creates artistic
Beats

There
By the tree
Was me
In a chair

The tree
Made of sap and wood
Me
I am flesh and blood

The sun like a kite
Hangs too high and bright

So cut its string
Let the rain bring

Ageless moonlit nights
Around my sighs

As we met for dinner
Our fallacy at the center
Was the undistributed Middle

Her eyelashes
Slightly splashes
The water fresh

Her eyebrows
Sinks below
The water fresh

Her **** flesh
Dives into
The water fresh

I have no life
So I'll write
Poetry all night

Sun smothered too quick
So I lit a candlestick
To write poetry all night

Burrow in my soul
Coldest warmth I know    
To fumble with words to sow

Don't think about love    
Nor any angels above          
Just write poetry all night

Lonely Lenore was a princess
She blew out my light    
Took my wrist and insisted
To write my poetry all night

I like their simplicity
The wind - their flexibility
Their life rings - older than
We

I like the way their made -
Give me shade
They never complain -
Even when it rains

They give their love
In timber and
Wood
I protest using a saw or

Hammer -
Guess I must be
A tree
Hugger!

Epilogue:

One day -
The great sublime
I'll rest in my box-sized
Pine

All he had
At the old-fashioned rehab
Was a T-shirt and three
CD's

Along with me

Upon

A green leaf

Rainwater

Beside a woman's hand

I see a wave

In an ocean
In a person

I see a wave

In a leaf like a wrist
Twists a goodbye

How a sad day
Curls like a wave

You would not be free
To protest:
"Don't cut me!"

What if you were a tree?

With eyes to see
And a brain to think
Would you shrink
At the acts of human beings?

What if you were a tree?

To see and hear
Human beings history of
Terror

What would you think?

Epilogue:

"The hidden forest remains still.
Without humans to cut and ****."

When I'm old and gray
Sitting on my dusty couch
Will I watch TV all day?
Will I be a grouch?

When I'm old and gray
Will I look out the window
To think of passing days
Life's singular-syllable?

Wind and curtain
For all time
Wind and curtain
Ancient bell chimes

Wind and curtain
Life seemed certain
Wind and curtain
Until slipped in - slippery serpent

Wind and curtain
A different clock
Wind and curtain
Death like - never knocks

The wind in the forest
Like an artist
Plucks a leaf from a tree
Like a classical guitarist

Words
Like birds
Flitting from tree to
Tree
Creating their own
Poetry

Young eyes do not see
Walls
They create and pave
Hallways

Young eyes do not
Know
Instead new intuition
Grows

Young eyes do not
Criticize
They see opening
Skies

Young eyes do not
Mistrust
They are full of
Wanderlust

But Young eyes grow old
With aged stories told

Tired they fold and open
Ascend then descend

On earth again
With new Young eyes