I collect the stars
and drop them into mason jars
that once were home to
my honeysuckle jam

Suns  Suns  Suns
One by One
I use their lantern's glow
to light up my universe

Ahhh . . . , the universe is black
without it's light
And I pause in my gathering
to comtemplate

The sky is blue
A sea of blue
as far as I can see
A sea of blue without mermaids

Oh , that feeling
as I turn into blue
A lingering
A disintegration

A chorus of crickets
are singing ,
"Here Comes the Sun King"
he is one and done

Yeah !
I need a jar
to start collecting
all the lightning bolts

Didn't anybody tell you
that touching a bolt of lightning
was so much hotter
than kissing the sun

pause for reflection . . . . .

I opened all my jars of restraint
and freed the Suns
They fled smiling
glowing with joy

I contemplated
smashing all my  jars
but I made scupernong
wine instead .

Are you ready for this?
Are you ready for us?
Are you ready for love?
Are you ready for trust?

If your not, please let me know,
Because i cant take anymore heartbreak from the one i love.

See that all you need is in front of you,
No more, big mistakes and messy situations.

Get it together,
Be honest and straight...
Im so serious this time no need to comtemplate.

If i see no change, be happy you had a second chance
But know that you have no more becauase that was your last.

So if your not ready and we have to end , never forget me, always love me, and know that you will always have a piece of my heart within.

So tell me...you READY or NOT?

Tiptoeing on velvet vines
silky and smooth to the touch
we dance in the twilight shades
of subtle poetic lines
trying never to say too much
thus preventing that anything fades

Imagining alternative scenes
in flexible collaboration
we dream in adjectives and verbs
as sentences rush through our veins
sweet figment of imagination
all our civilised structures perturbs

Dancing lightly across the keys
our fingers and souls thus create
quiet symphonies on backlit sheets
wishful journeys across the seas
of what we dare only comtemplate
as we immerse ourselves in these beats

Quiet in the dark, I hear her voice,
She speaks in riddles with no rhyme,
I press my ear against the cold plaster,
But she will speak when suited for her.

A long, mournful, cry forlorned, listening,
I speak so softly to whisper my desire,
But she will speak when her time comes,
I must be patient and wait a lingering time.

So buried long ago in this cold wall,
Long forgotten, but not forgiven locals say,
To why her fate came to her that long-ago day,
Is mysteries mystery I now must comtemplate.

When nothing comes, just like a blackened  void,
I call her name, so frantically in an audible voice,
But she will respond whenever the fancy hits her,
I must sit silent in case I miss her frigthened word.

Enough with civilities in playing a waiting game,
For her icy lips and cold-stone stare will surely come,
When walls of regret are torn down in self desire,
And I will gaze upon her skeletal soul to so define,
Why she is lost and buried so in walls sometime ago.

Tread through the path of days end.
All I can see, far from reach.
Far above towering mountains, across open seas.
Are self explanatory reflecting images.
Millions if beautiful multicolors if eyes.
The low rumbles if imperfectly sculpted mouths.
So far they can see, so hard they can breathe.
Through an abstract vanity so well protected.

A mirror image matching identically.
To each living, breathing, seeing aspect of me.

So much alike, yet so different.
A beautiful masterpiece of diversity.
Some reflect a perfect double.
While others are like shattered glass.

As I observe closely I see myself through these;
flawed imperfect stainglass windows.
I see you, I see me.

Pondering the thoughts comtemplate...

Through all these beautiful imperfect imagrys.
I ponder the thought of how we came to be.
Only a being, perfect, benevolent, omnipotent.
Could conjour such a creature as thee.
A creature with hands and feet.
With a mind to ponder and think.
And a heart that loves and beats.
Such a stature if conjouration are we.

What are we, why are we here?
We are an anomaly of what we bear.

Humanoid figures symbols of relevance.
Different shapes and sizes.
We are mirrors of one another.
How are we brought to be?

Something phenomenal I see.
Couldn't have been a coincidence.
These are the works of a mighty king.

Divine and with love he made you and me...

To live through his mirror image is;
One of love and tolerance.
Another of being thankful and humble.
His plans of us are his mural.
Walking mirrors like one another.
We are his greatest creation.
A one of a kind masterpiece.

Feelings of positivity flow through me.
As I feel a sense of faith grow In me.
And see his image and character grow through me.
I know what I must do to seek him.

Love him...
Serve him...
Praise him...
Know him...

We are the walking mirrors of one.
King of creation, lord of reflections.

I see now what I must do, what we must do...

a bat flew into my house last night
     of the species California Myotis
     and i could not sleep while i listened to the wag of it's wings.
     they eat insects yet i could smell the blood
     trickling off it's downy chin.

i felt that this bat surely knew my fright,
i wished that it would make it's way
out the window i left open for him
and flutter into the unfriendly night
where it could feast on moths,
perch on a madrone
and comtemplate that waning crescent.

the violin was playing out in the corridor then a faint drawn out sound
in walks in a passing fare maiden skin pale and fainting from the heat
an exquisite bar was serving drinks down at the Prior Square experience
a glance to the left you can see the scenic view of the ocean with seagulls

remember me in times like these the pressing heart to a sweet homily
there's power in a song as it hit the strings
elps one get along sought after cadence
do not be afraid of a vision for it will teach you of what is to become
silently at night in my bed I dream of a demonic presence taking me away and dropping me

Breath deep through each attempt of extravagance yet at a glance it fades in the sunlight
Brandished through the ivy dressed with a taste of salt pete sipping tea alone
we stand erected to embrace its logical persuasion through the village gate
best to comtemplate the given addage of brevity along with a glimpse of cadence

At night the villagers get together for a dance to celebrate the order of the day
pier long in the deep manifestation of an audience plagued with vast new ideals
decor of decorated lavish attendees in the Prior Square holing hands
times like these are but far in few between

minus the flames we seek the vibrant waves of the solace of sound
shattered through the trees we feel on the debris oh so merrily receive
time evokes change a chance to rearrange through the pages of the scene
gravitate to comtemplate to memory of the fallen with a hint of disorder
fresh from the page you better act your age so be very brave & behave
we shall coast like the holy ghost loving you so very much is best

falling emblems from on high the thought of a surprise through your eyes
Summertime is upon us I'm about to go sonic & that's a promise
reckless words pierce like a sword but the tongue of the wise brings healing
if two of you agree on earth by anything they ask it will be done by my father in heaven
plead your case to God state your case that you maybe acquitted
Christ has redeemed us from the curse of the law

Did life come here on some cosmic speck?
A single cell inside a shooting star;
I wonder if we travelled far,
before we slid into the bubbling sprawl?
A place hospitable enough
for the stuff from which we're made
to grow and split and split and grow
before - ergo a beak, a stalk, a wink, a squawk,
a carnival of creeping creatures,
each one with its own distinctive features!
So when we pause to comtemplate,
the night sky's pinpricked winking lights,
is the flame that stirs inside
a homesickness for where we came?

I came and I was sat down in another plushy red chair and I'd be there for 9 hours doing more quizzes and learning the history of the company. It was like school but somehow worse; I'd at least be getting $9 an hour which at that time, around 2012 was pretty much the same even accounting for inflation.
I sat there and clicked and clicked and clicked and watched videos on their desktop. I guess old Macy was a traveling gypsy and the store started out as a sort of snake oil salesman setup, then eventually he got the idea to sell pants and now we have the current incarnation.
Music pumped in through the speakers, and it was a mix of "closing time' by semi sonic, and "Beautiful' by Christina Aguilera. Was it a message?
I finished the ****, then they propped me up and had me do paperwork, and I had no record. I crossed 'No' on the molestation portion and did my drug test the next day. I passed again, and came in and was escorted around the mannequins into the Women's Intimates section. Wow, this is like a bad movie I thought.
"here you just sort through the clothes and put them back on the rack" the supervisor said coldly.
How the **** do you put underwear and bras back on the rack?
"And if customers have a question provide direction or assistance" she said then left and I was all alone picking up underwear off the ground and bras like a strange lost person.
   Right away customers approached me with their questions.
"Where's the restroom?"
" I believe it's over there" and I'd point north. They went North.
" Help, I need rung up!"
I pointed north again.
"There's no one there! Can't you ring me up" they'd say irately
"No It's my first day"
And they'd skitter elsewhere and I'd continue folding the underwear and bras. It was really boring. So many ****-colored ******* and bras, and hideous blue-green dresses clumped up like angry ***** of yarn, kicked around, someone else's problem.
   It'd be time for my lunch break then I'd wander the mall and buy some Thai food or something. I'd sit on the bench overlooking the lobby and the fountain and comtemplate existence and existentialism and what led me to this place, in a mall, air-conditioned folding ******* for $ nine dollars an hour. The more I thought, the more questions would arise and I'd inevitably feel panicked when coming back in.
  I wandered the halls aimlessly in the store, doing nothing. I had practically no supervision. I just got lost and meandered and took 5 ***** a day wondering when I'd be be called out. I never was. I got bored of taking ***** and when my break came up I couldn't take another ****. I didn't smoke then, so I had absolutely nothing to do. When my time was up for the day I was thankful. I drove home listening to bad punk music,
probably Adolescents. Probably Kids of the black hole.