The Hebrew King David sings it once
everyone tunes in as if he stopped the time
it's a song sang in every mother tongue!

It's a sea of tunes flows on the shore of the body
outpours and dances fashioning in both science and art
waxes through every vein and reaches out to the heart.

Folks love to take a dip in this same mellifluent cloud
but it's as varied as all the different mother tongues,
the one rhymes with all floats across the world.
Over all the different rivers that may zigzag
It knows the way because from the ocean they all come.

What will happen when is over?
Are you ready to crash hard?
We have soared each day much higher
So much harder we will fall.

The sky’s so much blue in heaven
Grass is greener than before
I can see but endless rainbows
From the outpours of your love

Sky’s bound to fall up on us
Sending us to pits of hell
Love’s not meant to last for longer
And this romance will be quelled.

There’s only a dew of elixir in the bottom of the empty cup sleeping as lamb
Now they call it heart, I call it polluted spirit, and you may call it ruby pomegranate granules
But we the simplest so called human entities jointly may only Love and this is sufficient
To suffer for the thousand years and a day more
The one who cares not is the luckiest mundane ignorant but I’m the one alike who outpours his quintessential not knowing for whom
Not knowing for what reason a purpose never show its glamour in advance
For warning, for love or even for sake of its purest manifestation
In times when words were queued in the thread abundantly curved in bobbin from the human scalp
The necklace of verse is fading its shine no sparkling truths gurgles from its spring to obey our thirsts
We the thirsty souls for divine morsel wandering in here as the spirits of suicide victims
Empty stomachs of enfant terrible only for the grasp of the truth they never hear even as the sound of insect
Never as the sound of falling frozen spirit in jade that you may later see as the Galatea of divine maternal essence
A cornucopia of latent blessings waits
A deficit of Love outbursts proudly displaying its genitalia without a drop of shame
I wander as a working bee searching for the nectar of wisdom to feed my Queen bee
And bestow her eternal life with the royal jelly leaking elegantly from the bottom to the navel

It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.

through the snow
through the sleet
the hail the fog the wind,
outpours the stack
of choke- worthy smoke.
beneath,
the tug boat
with nothing to haul.
forcing and
chugging with it's head down
through the black
syrupy waters.
using only the friendly stars
as a guide
(when they're not covered by the passing hurricane)
the boat
or small ship
pushes north

toward something

Spindly supports elevate
Its be speckled body while thread
Outpours from the spiders portly
Frame. Swarms of prey

Bolt as the spider moves
Lethargically, still full from
Its earlier meal.
Thread ensnares the

Frangible flies in their
Cowering conglomeration.
One by one they are
Picked like daisies

On a school field,
Leaving the spider to sit
Back, content with his
Play for the day.

Grey and vast, it comes to me
The darkness of the flowing sea
Strong as storm, hard as stone
Dark as midnight, white as bone

The end of all, the finite shore
Gives birth to salty desert swells
Infinite as breathing sky
Earthbound as the turn of years

It screams, it scorns, its wrath outpours
It cradles, soothes, and lends a home
It is the end of all that was
It is the birth of something gone.

Ancient years mar not the deep;
Waves drown human sentiment
Flashing, pouring, burning tides
Know not peace or lenience

As sea aches for the shore, my love
So I reach evermore for you
Shroud of infinity, beware;
You fall short of the human soul.

For the eternal, I will strive
For the gold I've buried there
Across  paths of the shining sea
I will return, and find You there.

It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.

It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.

It seems a silly, foolish thing: obscure
abstracted expectations heeded sure.
However, comfort found or shred in thread,
defiance! Liberation for the dead
to overthrow, reject, deny decrees
imposed from fears that freedom means disease.
Because it chokes, barbed-wire laceration
began with shouts of divine damnation,
outpours a strangled, blood-laced river with
no end—laws unaware of gender’s myth.

To them, I am a thing one can acquire.
Behind eyes worn,  I tire— Oh! How I tire
of worth and value foisted most unjust.
Disgust conceals (reveals) clandestine lust;
they loved (and also often hated) me
for what I am and what I never will be.

I stare inside an empty chest
Where used to, there be such a mess
Panic, fear, urgent anxiety
To certain varieties of these drugs
I make a toast to my sobriety

A right of passage,
Was my consumption.
What I chose to do
How I chose to function
My takings of nothing and making them something
Are nowhere to be found,
Except away from me, running

What’s gone is gone
What’s mine is mine
What’s outdated and failed
For it, there’s no time
No rhyme or reason
No proper season
No excuses
Now, we’re even

This heart shaped box
Was in disguise
Though it told truths,
Now they are lies.
Truth is subjective
It’s all about time.
Mine has now changed,
How sublime!

Full of love,
Not driven by it.
No reckless outpours,
I keep it quiet.
And in my mind,
Rather than a riot,
The fog is cleared.
I’m glad I tried it.

a princess locked up high
guarding close by is a mighty dragon
imagine what a knight might do
risking his life to protect you

armor is shiny and silver
his bravery thrilled her
spurring his horse
the dragon's skin is coarse

as he swings his sword
out poured blood
there was a loud thud
he shrugged, tongue-in-cheek

the knight does it again
as if it's been done before
oh what love they have in store
outpours his deep affection
they are in the right direction

In my mind you are alive,
Playing the lead in my fantasies,
Corroding my senses with outpours of do’mine,
drenching my essence then doing it all over again.

In my mind you are alive,
casually laying claim to each vessel of my being.
Traveling,
Rooting,
Growing,
A fruitless tree you are,
Forever rooted, never sweet.

In my mind you are alive,
Able to contain as many blows sent your way,
Strong, level-headed and calm; so sure.

I am skeptical, pensive and critical; What a perfect match, no?

Dappled sweat, bile, snot, the quick
Boiled then burst. A flushed anemic,
My body nothing but a seam.

Rag slopped, sodden shot to wick,
Smeared the table thick with sheen,
Rutting reek on things pristine.

Outpours the raw and unhygenic -
Perfection is this bowl swabbed clean.

I am just a voice,
a name you can't remember,
an easy choice,
to dismember,
my vital *****,
for I am nothing more than,
a crazed fan,
this unnamed man,
that sits and waits,
for some recognition,
filled with fear and hate,
at his position,
caught in lust,
what love was before,
has turned to rust,
nothing more,
a tainted chalice,
which I still drink from,
our empty palace,
that we built upon,
the ruins of a relationship,
the hands that loosen grip,
that held so tightly,
the soft words spoken nightly,
from my heart outpours,
for this lost cause,
not in action,
more like fiction,
a romantic novel,
buried with a shovel,
in my hearts coffin,
so all thats left is,
fear, failure and nothing.

Alas, Spring is here!

A fine young woman
Hearty and young
Full of life

Plump and fertile
With pale white skin
Pink cheeks, lively eyes
And brown curls around her face

Her arms are full
With flowers of yellow and white
And she carries loaves of bread
In a sack on her back

Children skip behind her
In streams of laughter
And she leaves a trail
Of petlas on their path

She wears a halo of sun
Above her full face

And a flower crown
On her soft bed of hair

She breaths warmth on the days
Melting mornings like butter

And when she cries, it rains
And the town becomes silent
Giving room to the boom
Of her sorrowful roars

And when it is finished
She sings with joy
And the birds chime in
And the grass lifts
And horses drink peacefully
From a nearby stream

And the sky outpours its light
Affirming all will be alright

People rush from their doors
To observe the spring fair
Enjoying her celebratory visit
As the earth opens up,
To give way to life.

And when she leaves
Ever-so-quietly one night,
Her sister comes knocking,
Early in the next morning
With her fire red hair and safari eyes
Jumping and dancing and kissing the moon
Summer has arrived-

Followed by father autumn,
Whose quiet power
Sways life from the trees.
And mother winter,
Who brings comfort and rest
With her blanket of white.

Till' again spring returns
And all the world rejoices
At the arrival of their favorite guest,

Generous and humble
Marvelous,
Spring.

I’ve always felt forced
to look at my life
from above,
evaluating myself
in the light of
others’ judgment,
assessing my appearance
and interactions
as the breath
feels closer
and closer
to my back.


Step in closer to
the freedom
that your life
is yours
and yours alone.


Of course,
their judgment
will continue,
but yours need not.


Feel into
the freedom
to let yourself be
without assumption or shame,
for you are so full
of life and beauty
despite constant
criticism and cut downs.


You are built
so strongly from
the inside out,
but let yourself
sink into
the satin and silk
that softens you.


Open yourself to
the wellspring of love
that outpours and overflows
from your giving heart
and let it always
bless yourself before others;
let yourself drink
freely from all that
you have to offer;
let your lips
always be wetted
by your own freshness
and brought into a smile
even at the thought
of all that you are.


You are not sad.
You are not anything
that others have
made you out to be.
You are what you are;
you are who you are,
and what a glorious
creature to be.