Do you stop and take notice —
Of the sirens wailing in the background?

Wonder…what trouble has been seized,
A damsel relieved, or a criminal taken to jail?

Do you hear the sirens of trouble?
Or celebrate justice received?

it comes when there is no time to write
and you're inches away from spilling your
sanity out on a sidewalk in the park

elevating to the moon you whisper
quiet nothings into your own bare shoulders

it comes when there's no time to think
and when the skies begin to look interchangeable

greys upon greys and sunset knitted together
and the cold dawns upon uncovered skin

it comes when there is no time to breathe

You ever get that sudden surge?
You  Don't know where it came from
A salty pulse behind the eyes
That swells
Then leaves your skull
A smell
A taste
A tune
A movie
A wave from those
That have gone on
A hail from heart to brain
From where
They now belong.

Is it the words that flow and rhyme
And dance in rhythm, keeping time?

Or is it a line
That breaks when it wants to,
Not when it’s told;
A thought
Spilling without apology?

Or 5-7-5
Secrets whispered by the wind
Words, though few, sing true?

Perhaps it is found behind coughed petals,
Fourteen lines aligning to pave a stage
Where lovers for love charge into battle
And hearts are found pierced or tangled in rage

Or ten words, though short, a poem for the world

Or the sun spilling gold across the sky
Painting clouds as the sea drowns its light.

To me, poetry is emotion;
Memory,
Ink spilled where the heart leaked
And it is not meant for everyone

bubbling volcano
explosive remark

a song for peace
a heart for love

who can tame the wild
who can cherish the dead

marginal children
spiritual bereft

who will love the unloved
-anger and the rage.

I was in a deep slumber,
And You reached out to me:
“Awake, my darling,” You whispered,
And I opened my eyes anew.

Repeatedly, I have gathered you.
And yet you still fall, **** leaves, you're like a floating fault!
Killing me softly with your incessant grin;
Endlessly gloating: "I've got more where they've come from!"
Declares MN as she blows her windy, willowy waves of air through the trees; nice breeze but...






"Come on, give me a break!" I shriek.