He fell 70 feet into a crevasse in Nepal
The amazing American Dr John All
Decided to film his own dying
But decided against and kept trying
This man decided it wasnt his time
And so with broken ribs, broken arm
Started out on his greatest climb
Over six hours on that ice slick wall
Six agonising hours expecting to fall
But John is a man of courage and strength
He kept going on even though he was spent
And so there's a lesson to be be learned by us all
Taught to us by Dr John All
Never give up when you think all is lost
Fight for your life no matter the cost

romance the burnt sea
love its stain on your writing hand
romance its dark waters
and the stillness of the words it creates in your heart
evening light shows the beast of tides
gnawing at the sandy shore with restless hunger
feed it your naked feet as you run through the crashing waves
feed it your devil fish of ******* clad thoughts
but hide your face lest it see you and desire you

the beast of tides feeds on the velvet sands of paradise
while its offspring feed on starlight
ever hopeful of redemption foolish as it is

she tells you she loved the beast and the burnt sea
opened her heart to its plain plight
cared for it mended its wounds
spread herself to its darkness
now as it lay off shore she longs to swim in its dark water
she speaks of joining its bitter love
the burnt sea has hills like waves in the grasslands
creates creatures to chase this butterfly
all must taste of salt
even the sky
and the beast and the burnt sea shall see it done
she surrenders her naked feet to the
and rejoices in the salt scent
romance the burnt sea
for it is loved as she is

The battles finally over, the deck is rent and torn
By the shot and shell that struck us in the battle storm
So sew him in his hammock lads, put the last stitch through his nose
Place a roundshot at his feet then over the side he goes
This then is the way we say goodbye to our comrades of the ship
We never knew their real names, maybe Harry Tom or ****
Yes we gave our mate the deep six, he's now six fathoms down
Lying on the bottom on his final resting place the sand
No time yet to ponder on his untimely death
We must make and mend and make our ship the best

I read the poetry of Hafiz
and Rumi, Shakespeare and Neruda.
Hundreds of years a part.
Yet, they all write about you.

Nothing can I read about love
without seeing your face,
hearing your words,
and feeling your skin.

I have been conditioned
like a salivating dog,
to pair your being
with love.
(and rightly so, I'd say).

For your real life love
makes the poet's words
dance
and sigh with satisfaction.

And when I think of your love,
I imagine a love greater
than any ever written.
A bond so close,
it can't fit into poetic words.

I am looking at my
reflection, and I see
a young child holding
my hand.

I look down but my
palm is empty, I look up
once more, and I see a
gentlemen of senior years
with his hand on my
shoulder, I look to my side
but no hand can I find.

Confused I look up and see
myself, and realize that I
am a reflection of my past
innocence, then myself
who us  learning, and
then finally the wisdom
of age.

I have inhaled the air of countless cities
and left some of mine behind.

My distinct fingerprints are invisible
but they exist
in a place amidst many others
on tables and handles everywhere.

My voice had probably made someone turn
and wonder what type of a person I was.
Do I sound happy because I am
or is it a mere façade I have covered the truth with?
It will leave them pondering over the masks we wear.

Lipstick stains on coffee mugs
Kissing the worries goodbye
they flutter away into thin air
and become someone else's instead.

Eyes darting to the clouds above,
that water was once down here in the sea
but now it is above hovering over me.

Like snakes shed their skin,
and dead matter turns to trees
we leave a part of ourselves
on dusty shelves
for others to recover and use

the cycle goes on.