The first time I flew
I marveled at the sky
Blue and orange and red
The second time I flew again and read
The amazing magazines of Flight 18

A path completed to a routine
It seemed there would be no blunder
I rode like before’s before
With great success
Until I slipped into the valley creek
Falling off the bridge
The day her eyes were watching
|
It was not my eyes that sank
But her’s that weighed heavy
Impressing the impressive on me
Eyes add weight I did not know
The weight of another soul
One is tough for me
Two’s another load

"oh goodness me"
"oh sorry"
"please"
"excuse me"
"sir"
"pardon"
"ma'am"
"gosh **** weeds"
"yikers bees!"

my tongue how you censor me
around my Christian society

but how I wish I could say

****

Wallowing Wisdom stood widowed
with none to carry her bags across the busied road
heavy were Wisdom's bags, and wide was the street
who would want to carry widowed Wisdom's load
For Wisdom was old and Wisdom was slow
who would help the widow
Many ran by Wisdom not noticing her bags
their eyes were sharply focused on the sidewalk ahead
some passed Wisdom by without a second glance
others stared in pity but left for better circumstance
a few did stop to heave Wisdom's bags
only to feel their suffering arms dropped them in the road

In certain happenstance, there appeared another woman divine
who's eyes shined, her beautiful smile wide
many clamored to her side
pondering the name of radiant light
"Happiness" said she, many approved
a fitting name for a fitted love
the throng extended down the road
helping with her bags
how light were they!
Hearts yearned for Happiness
adored around the world
for she was ever-lovely
emptied pockets paid
what a wonderful commodity
The Happiness Company
Inc.

Widowed Wisdom stood alone with heavy bags in hands of old
on she walked alone and dragged her bags of gold
Wallowing widowed Wisdom wept and cried in anguish
her screams ripped through busy streets
on middle road, she lay fallen on her knees
wishing she may have her company
but too many forget
too many ignore
wailing Wisdom
on the road's floor

How do you filter your eyes?

a phone and screen filter easy
a button push to hide the unsightly
tap and your bubble grows
Surely our eyes cannot be filtered though
our eyes are eyes that see unwanted glimpses
of gruesome vile images
constantly

Perhaps our eyes have no filter

but we filter subconsciously
for who wants to see
that man on the street
that car on the road
both who we know
sit and plead
but tricksters they may be
until one day we see
no one in need

Our brain filters for our eyes
so we may see all the blue skies
and any cloud that may block our view
can be hidden for our plane of blue

What clouds your eyes
for your blue skies

I curse the mind's divine plan
as I lay in valley's low
gazing upon myself a god
and a perfect smile aglow

whilst I toil in my misery
my soul tied with stones
my statue's likeness stands above
revolted at his lesser clone

Look at how he humbly gloats
His skin golden perfection
A mind more clear than unstained glass
A body crafted in circumspection

but though I pull my nails
with a revised renewed edition
with every labored detail
capturing perfection

this tortuous image
calms my heart
stabbing it with hope
for a better start

and I hear whispers in my valley
selling nectars of complacency
spinning truths from fantasy
of how I too one day may be

but as my hands try to summit
the hill soars ever higher
and my mind it pities me below
Remaining on my pyre

and my blood steams
and irrational rashes grow
as I come to realize
I'll forever remain below

around the post they skip
with rope in hand
growing tight
with smiles delight
but smiles falter
their skipping stops
their post was not to share
they tugged their ropes
tied to the post
and ripped themselves in half

I once swam in the sun
felt fire roll across my side, down my skin
like hot kisses in summer
warming cheeks to grin
I dove deep
yet the heat
bitter sweet
burned me
completely
I still swim in the rays of stars
but the burn still hurts
and reminds me
to stay afloat upon the surface
and never swim too deep

How many of humankind
think ourselves seeds growing in the dirt
certain showers will pour praise from the heavens
"nurture us, provide for us, acknowledge us !" we demand
yet we seem to forget the work of the seed in the land
so tough, so hard, so determined is the seed
that it breaks the barriers set in dirt
but do we?
do we work?
or do we sit in the Earth
questioning why the sun hasn't shined upon our face
wondering when dirt will push up our pedestal to the surface

to what shall I write on an empty day
when skies are grey
when I feel no play
within my soul
to whom can I write ink on pages
in dark ages
while rage is
within my soul
to when will I write stories of old
when all is told
when I feel mold
within my soul
Oh! Why should I write about inside emotions
disturb unchecked notions
and increase commotion
within my soul

do I dare defy my mind's pristine palace?
with challenging concepts
with wild words
to shake the foundations
within my soul
do I wish to write words true?
or explore ideas new
or release the twisted tortures
trapped deep
within my soul
do I hope for exultations?
congrats and celebrations?
for words wandering in my mind
while words lost weep
within my soul
do I do or do I die
do I tell truths or do I tell lies
do I hide or do I show
the words I know
within my soul

All I wish to see
is some melody
pour upon the pages
while the pitcher in my heart
remains unpoured
within my soul
All I wish to do
is draft divine brews
with ingredients inquired
from the world around
rather than pieces profound
within my soul
All I wish to be
is a virtuoso visionary
whose name is heard around
the world tenfold
while the true tenderness remains
within my soul
All I say I misconstrue
to bury what I knew
could never leak upon the papers
of the world
and keep my paper heart locked
within my soul

But if my pen's ink
came not from where I think
but from my chest where my heart beats
and the words I write
came not from nature's daylight
or from words announced from other's lips
but from wells
within my soul
might I find
though not celebrations
perhaps personal thanks
and reconciliation
for myself
and frustrations found
within my soul

though I trudge through mountains
and walk through deserts
though my feet are tired
and my soul hurts
nothing will stop me from walking
back to you

I
dove
Into roses
Expecting petals
But found
Razored
Thorns

Should all the tears
of all the world
be gathered into one pool
to share equally
I should think
many
would take their own tears
and go

see the people rivers
    look how they flow         
             from place to place                          
            do you think they know            
                             the winding path they follow  
                                      like water in a brook
                    passing over every bend
every rock and every hook    
     do they know the traveled path                              
more than any babbling creek              
                          or are they like the grains of sand          
                                               flowing in the river weak  
                               are people in the people river         
                                       like little drops of rain                                       
                       or are they like the river                                        
every one the same

beat goes my heart
in my caged chest
pounding
reaching

closer
please

beatbeat goes my heart
sparks become inferno
my tongue aflame
calls your name

answer
please

beatbeatbeat goes my heart
pink roses on your cheeks
a scarlet tulip below your nose
silky soft and sweet

stay
please

beatbeatbeatbeat goes my heart
my unlocked passion roaring
as my cheeks I feel are growing
red upon my face

love me
please

My head is filled with black-striped bees
Bizzing and buzzing as they please
The world's a thund'ring 'fall
Roaring its loud call
Life's a tornado
Then I see
Silence
You