She said, turn out the lights,
I look so much better in the dark.
I said, love is an artist; I like what I see,
And  lit the candle beside her bed.

She said the night and shadows retouch my flaws,
Blend tight curves with round intrigue,
I said, the sexiest bits of you are all unseen,
Now smile and let me love all of you.

Beautiful Water
Sweet Spring of Life
You are more than enough as Thee
Each moment  I touch
and retouch your beginning
Willingness to Peace
A moment in time
Shared
Memory
Trickling thru

An orchards flare
Of
Apples picked
Macintosh then
First Learnings
Of the Truth
Gladiolus on the Side
Beauty Freed for
A Mothers Love

Ladder
From
Sustenance
To Grace
Something Sweeter Now
Maple Syrup
Tapped
by Wooded Gate

Johnny
A Real Hero
Changed the World
Kindly
And with Love

One Thought
His Pure expression
Always the Same
Gods Good
Life
Guitar String
For the Earth

His Arrow
Split the Heart in Two
An Apple
Felled
To the Ground

Witness
To a World UNComing
Mournful Courage
Put Away
A  soldiers
Duty
Paid
Prince
of
Brotherhood

St James

You Now
Are Made

How the silence greeted her
1-2-3-4-5-alive-next five
We dug deeper get-up
sleepyhead Zzzz
Clock 5:O clock went boom*
Who met her expectation
Oh! Dear feeling deprived
Things exposed
On the Network 5
But not like a **** painting
Dear Boom all your relatives
came in five
Let's save your heart
It goes boom
Didn't come with gifts
to bloom

High expectations realizing
how low your smile five
degree angle
He's the high hands five
mighty spirit
didn't show to really live it
The revelation he had this
clock-wise reaction
Hush hush sweet Charlotte
curved her position
Heirloom she was seated
The pendulum going back and forth

Mr. Fort William Henry
Lake George new birth
  It was all she could say
she looked up at him
Hearing a boom her eyes were his
golden flames soothing piercing
but painful as we know the
war was heartbreaking

She wasn't sure what to
make of the time
He elapsed like the war
within her legs of her flow
Mommy Dearest Heirloom clocks
At her beach house those
charming ducks
She hopes so strongly
she didn’t jump
into his frying pan of words
like trying to read the top of the hour
Her newspaper eating lemon chicken
with capers

  His second-hand clock tick tock
But first, most importantly we
cannot turn the clock
back to undo the harm it caused
But we certainly need new steps
singing in the rain
And relieving our dear ones
  how there stuck
Getting unstuck  but the stick of
the worst Tacky glue
   Dealing with our negativity but keeping
your chin high positive energy
Here it is the song
Day in and Day out how we listened
to it over again

All you do is dig dig dig…
how we conserve energy per unit time
We put our energies into our brains
With the things that don't have
any use for us
Whoa what a dig of nervous love energy
fighting trying so hard to focus on sexuality
Our bird and the bees
Trying to balance our energy
E=MC -2  that mass movement
He booms my speed of light

the truth of things will set us free

Your the one going solo just go
That pounding and higher ground
How I feel like the piece of rare meat
Clank  clink there he goes boom
Another drink
  What's to think my dead nail beat
Strongheart needs attention
to smooth the beats
How he leveled all his baking cups
to show
her she was his equal

What happens to you
when your day begins
Do we have a second to think
Have a  French kiss Vermouth the warm drink
How can we undo something
How everything remains deep in our hearts?
Something touched your hands it spooked
your thoughts having a retouch
being a good sports nothing gets to me
I am not getting  touched by your words me
My dear boom wasn't enough
explosive words
We develop like a wasp of yellow jackets
How does this entire world deal
with such terrorism? Bloodstain pockets

But not having the time
to tell someone
you love them
because your days come to
close to the end
The drummer boy or the
a thousand drums
marching soldiers
like a bomb will succumb
still on his limb

We visualize more what love really is
All the basic pleasures or nightmares
day in and day out like the song continues on
your digging way down to find something
it's huge so major song flat minor to the surface

The game isn’t over were out
of love down to zero
Like time management oxymoron time
beyond like anger management
regardless of our lives
He retreated one arm against the
mantelpiece his eyes surprised
engagement turned clockwork
burnt orange
so irritated beyond a different time
She was expressing her love and pain
moment of time how she couldn’t
gasp for air

The sensation got stronger how
she was being watched making the
right or wrong moves
With an effort, she forced herself to
straighten her body to behave but her
the mind really needed to function
He sensed the last word rock paper
scissor boom of logs into the
stillness of the room
Emboldened she allowed herself
to see the contour of destined time
contours shaped his face

Like the French Emperor Napoleon
power request so many derogatory
stereotypes
The morning mist was lifted by the time
The Robin responsible for the
past and future
how different time became wanting
my time back
Like the Rehma time flow electric
mechanical clock numbers
How the Heirloom perhaps her time
might have been doomed those deep digs
Like the women movement
Ane her deep mind Goddess of  yoga
her terra cotta hacienda
Her name is Gina he was digging her nails
She had the grace of a ballerina
That dear core of our brain
That cozy warm inviting library
Orient train
Digging out our old grandfather clocks
some of the names
Ingram 1828 Ansonia 1850 and Gilbert
rocking pendulum newton equation
of physics how were fighting for time
and space getting into the light
How someone is born with the
proverbial silver spoon those compounding
assets of his time clock heirloom faces
To dig relive to hug a dear moment
just goes boom
But I will never change my old room

This wind keeps snapping at our feet
through shoes unravelling.
Gales are hungry.
          Night's abandoned,
               streets have emptied.
Still, we own them--just keep talking.
           Winter's wailing.
           **** the old days.
Clutching coats closed,
                         tread nostalgia
past these sidewalk intersections.
Claimed by rambling conversations,
               often
               we're only
               rehashing
our worst mistakes
                                  and
                 shivering
                our way be-
             -neath stoplights
lit by good memories.

          I've got this notion tonight
          that we'll find our way
                                                  back
         ­ into the warmth found behind
          our locked front doorways.
Ways we've found to always hide
our faces from the cold outside
          have been running dry all night.
So drink down the cold street light
          and we'll make a blur of those green-white street signs.

This cold's still clawing at your face
through scarf unraveling.
Chapped lips smiling.
          Nights like this have
               kept on piling.
Winter owns us. Just keep walking.
           Winter's crying,
           "**** the old days!"
Frostbit footsteps
           slip nostalgia
past these frowning checkpoint questions.
Retouch same old observations.
                Sometimes
                we're only
                 retracing
the same missteps
                                but
                    ­frigid
             friends like us
                are melting
into old habits

          I've got this notion tonight
          that we'll take this route
                                                     for
          one more familiar cold flight
          from here to daybreak.
Say, "let fly those bomb bay doors!"
We've bombed these frozen streets before,
                    and I've got a couple more
          so keep moving 'til we find our front doors.

Better than what I got there
is every single thing or thought that I can
from here touch or recall right now with
a no other way kind of freedom called
Memory.  You know what I mean.

When you touch a thing only for the reason
you want to retouch a whole situation metonymicly,
when you want to remember a moment only to remind
you that that moment happend and you find yourself
around old calenders where the workdays do not
match your current deadlines, it's memory I know
you know what I'm trying to say right now. Again.

Walked into the dressing room
Questioned the fit
With all the lights angled
To illuminate the best places
While inside, the struggle
holding all together just to feel fit, the lift and separate.

It is a wonder how all this frilly lace, thread,  and beading
could make a girl, become woman, turned bride.
its a disposable ideal, one chuckled about since the beginning of time.
Seemingly picture perfect, now the faux retouch
a process where reality turns fake
The day a mere memory

Now about the questions
as we look at the reflection
striving for perfection, but yet it feels incomplete,
next, Watch, strap in, repeat.

there are no yes moments, just...
yes things
the feeling of suffocation
of a day, where this will only be in the closet,
when everyone wants you to dress up
You to play along
you to conform.

(The emotional build up
the pain ensues)
all for a day no longer is about you and the other half
but filled with moments of regret
where simply just having a judge make it happen
would have been better
then seeing family come together

a final step down, back from the fantasy
or nightmare, with increased humility...

it is all clear, the item is beautiful,
but for some, this is a tortured fun.
no single person can imagine
the stress of just trying to celebrate two people forming a marriage,
that this one day can make, break, or dissolve a feeling
with the dawn breaking,
thoughts are revealing.

the last step down off of the stage,
lights, reflection, multiple direction mirror,
makes it much clearer.

can you breathe?
can you walk? Can you talk?
can you sit down and enjoy it?
But if a single no appears, alterations can ****
so save the moment, take picture.
get real.

only in a dressing room
can one reveal the truth, nature, and absurdity
of cloth, lace, beads, and thread.
question the fit.
and live without the regret...
of buying the disposable wedding dress.

Allah my dear Lord
everyone wishes me
happy birthday today
though I still ponder when
my mind was born, o my Lord
I wish to thank You nonstop!

I wonder when did You pen
my birth set my destiny on the flow.
Why then - I feel like I saw
the ocean floor was dry on that mo
that very one ocean making drop
didn’t dance, then it didn’t billow!

Maybe because once all that start
be on the move then take a pause
but I wish to thank You nonstop.

There are exceptions like I bumped on
in Your awesome varied creation.
There is one that lives on the grave can’t swallow
You created that endless love time ago
and wrapped in it my soul in the core.
I did my little splash - my debuting first go
rose over the rainbow but sways to a full stop.
Dwarf me now start to realise why the sea below
turns a stand-alone dewdrop on the rose!

Like a broken sleep in the middle of the night comes
the next moment with a broken dream only seen half
and all the memory goes lost with the unseen half.
The nightingale buzzed up singing on the new dawns
on my memory lane though was yet to bloom a rose!  

The first light paints heaven on earth so clement  
retouch it just to blow it onto the rose you can.
Shines a light on the move dip in the polished angle
picturesque beauty unleashes amid the day’s sunny show
one more punter basks in it gets two more eyeballs.
The cutie that was yet to pop in the shining galore
stays in the fence cutting all the corner gets in the loop
and the sun showers its balmy blue light on this Moon!

One world scattered across the board
deep in the water is a one connected dot.  
One endlessly variant one ever-fluid on diverse flow
embarked timeless time ago yet that's on the row.
Off to the half-seen dream my day lo
entering the twilight zone, it sets on the go.
Yet to live the mo, no rope no continual binary code
up to the dream when can I ever draw O my Lord!

Help me, when You do that I can see the magic
even when blowing the husk off a small seed
rainbow laces blow out opening the arch of blue sky
the small patch of land I touchdown turns to gold dust
what crosses in my mind then is any one’s lucky catch!

Eying on that endless love that took my dream away
Paradise the butterfly on its wings is ever on the fly.
Punting down the serene shadow of heaven all the stars
confluence for the final constellation on their highway
dwarf I though yet to act on the meaning of my dream
thanks to You let me share with those larks my script.
Wish comes true may their lips break into smiles
their sky wall keyhole to open stupendous painterly spirals.
Raise me high on the tangent dear Lord I am running dry
pour me Your potion of mercy in my dew splash sea of elixir
so I can break my fast sipping that o my Lord no one dies!

When the boys say they "won't go as big as.." you,
When you look more like a teacher than a student,
When you see the other girls' expressions at you in the school bathroom mirror while they reapply their eyeliner,
When you sweat feverishly around those fragile powder-fresh beauties,
When you accidentally knock their things off their desks because your thighs can't fit and you were nervous to get up and walk in front of them anyways,
When they take selfies with you and your face is a mass of red, your eyes lost in your glasses, and you a blob,
When the boys you care for or even love profess their devotion to girls who are so much more beautiful than you could ever be,
When that baggy t-shirt look doesn't look chic because you have only high-neck boy shirts and are too top heavy;

Don't try to explain that your money goes to groceries so you can't afford team membership dues much less a new blouse.
Don't explain that your nice shoes need a retouch of hotglue so you really only had your snowboots.
Don't tell them that you didn't put on makeup because your mom was in the er, because even though she was, you didn't bother because you knew no amount of makeup could make them see you as an equal.
Don't you dare show them your scars.

Know that they do not laugh at you because you are not significant enough to be the topic of their conversation.
If someone says privately that they want you they will not acknowledge you in public.
If a cute person online shows interest, trust your instincts because those kind of people do not look at your kind of people.
Know that when you meet someone you might like, knowing how others see you, it's your choice if you want to hope that this one will see you any differently.

A void where when your affection dwelled,
A gorge profound, where satisfaction withstood.
Presently repeats wait, murmurs of agony,
A heart uncontrolled, lost in the downpour.

I meander through days, a ghost's phantom,
Tormented by recollections, a weighty expense.
Your giggling, a tune, presently a lament,
Your touch, a glow, presently an unpleasant flood.

The world appears to be dim, absent any and all shade,
An infertile scene, where nothing is new.
Each stage a battle, a fatigued situation,
Lost in the obscurity, without your light.

The evenings are unending, loaded up with despair,
An unpleasant quiet, stunning.
Your nonappearance, a consistent, a significant burden,
Pushing down on me, constantly.

I long for your presence, your caring hug,
To experience your glow, to see your face.
Be that as it may, distance keeps us separated, a horrible declaration,
A partition, difficult to see.

I look for comfort, everywhere,
In any case, track down no solace, no harmony, no Danny.
The world appears to be chilly, a relentless machine,
Without your adoration, I'm lost, concealed.

I attempt to occupy myself, with books and craftsmanship,
However, nothing can make up for the shortcoming in my heart.
The hurt of yearning, a consistent aggravation,
A significant weight, that I can't maintain.

I miss your grin, your giggling, your mind,
The manner in which you caused me to feel so fit.
Your affection was a fortune, a valuable gift,
Presently lost everlastingly, an excruciating fracture.

I long to hold you, to feel your touch,
To realize that our adoration, won't ever be squashed.
Be that as it may, destiny has mediated, a brutal wind,
Leaving me broken, lost, and uncontrolled.

I look for replies, however see as none,
Lost in a maze, where trust has gone.
The aggravation of partition, a weighty burden,
A weight excessively weighty, to be conveyed abroad.

I attempt to continue on, yet it's difficult to do,
At the point when each memory, carries me to you.
The prospect of losing you, perpetually, is a trepidation,
That torment my fantasies, a large number of years.

I trust sometime in the future, we'll see as our way back,
To the adoration we once had, a lovely track.
Up to that point, I'll continue, with overwhelming sadness,
Expecting a future, where we won't ever part.

Thus, I stand by, anxiously,
For the day when our adoration will vanquish demise.
At the point when we'll be brought together, by and by,
What's more, our hearts will retouch, and our adoration will rule.

When you can't rewind the clock nor re-walk the talk
When you can't retouch her heart nor erase it all... the hurt
When you can't order the sun to come again & you're stuck midst storming rain
When you left so much distance between you couldn't re-cable the train
when you can't re-stroll along the boulevard & it aches really bad
when the soul's in need of spring but the melancholy does winter bring
When you can't repaint the art of romance
when you can't ask for another dance
When you're thrown into a trance because you won't get another chance
When the days are pitch black like the dark
When you can't move on yet you can't move back
When your trains gone off the trucks & your once smooth heart's full of cracks
When you're caught up recollecting the shards
but you badly want to eat your words
When you finally realise beans don't taste so bad
neither does swallowing your pride,
when your Mind died soon as your lips lied
When your visage is teary and blurred
When you're thirsty for affection yet can't even attract a single moth of affection  
Because the illumination in your soul's extinguished
When you're so starved & anguished When the romance blooms are painfully consumed by the cankerworms of doubt
When all songs seem sung and all poetry written  
When you're tired of dying inside and want it all out
When you can't even define reasons for your fallout
& you want to manacle your thoughts to stop them from running about
When you're bleeding a lot and nobody cares
when you need to be nursed but nobody dares
For who can nurse a wounded wild beast
Instead of watching it die and have a feast?
When everyone knows you're a heartless lion
And none offers you a warm chest to lie on
When you're forced to pretend that you're fine
because it's impossible to verb the pain
For the ache is beyond what speech can explain
When you're actually dying inside
& you want nobody to know because only nobody understands
When you want to rewind time and rewrite the story
but "That's impossible" says karma, "I'm sorry"
When no amount of liquor can uplift
& loneliness is your nature's daily gift
*When the dawn seems totally gone & you finally realise no body can love you the way she did
Not even she herself... for the affection was so intricate
& so out of the galaxy even she can't replicate
When you wish you would run away from your own memories
For they have burnt your emotional calories
When you're the epitome of melancholy and allegories
Of a perfect story of a love that was promising
When she's the only thing you can't stop reminiscing
That's the day you should ever say you understand how I feel
For you would have tasted a little of the heat in my shoe and burn on my heel

Dear Photographer,

I’m begging to please,
Photo shoot me...

I want a happy portrait;
The one my lips were commonly clasped together,
And my eyes were looking somewhere.

Adorn me with warm colors to shows it’s a joyful moment.

Focus your lens, in the angle of my heart, and
never mind what they could not see but yours can do.

Please use the rule of thirds grid
In highlighting the spaces of my frames
That would make a better composition,
If not your creativity will seek it ground.

If only you can add light into it,
Please do, it’s a favor to hide
What dark does in each life..

P.S
Retouch and finalize me
for public viewing,
so it wore a mouth,
for brilliant minds.

a loop in upper atmosphere today
with a model's figure of grass
to postpone his next canvass

this desire to retouch in a wanton lapse
his brush fitted in a cloud
and he steamed aloud  

a bubble's glow in a tip of the pen
to exclaim foment
as shape blew doctrinaire
with clasps of tarter  
where his strokes were ardor
that trend would enhance with finale
while he deeply supplanted the soul

I loved you and seriously still do
I'll always love you, my darling
Because I still believe
Love is the greatest promise
in this wonderful world
Yeah, I say this about true love
Do you promise to love me?

What's wrong with me?
Nowadays, you hate me
You don't cheer me up
Stop playing with me!

Tell me, do you feel something?
or nothing anymore
Is something happening?
or nothing at the shore

I don't know what to do
but I must say this to you
Don't do love anymore,
it just hurts more when love ends!

I probably said too much,
because I still retouch
your heart and feelings
but you don't have the answers.

Wole Soyinka calls it the “one-eyed box”
It captures the tiniest of emotions
It’s lens, ‘all-seeing’ like an eye over the globe
With each picture, a fleeting glimpse of expressions
Stories stuck on film, a whole lot to remember
Complex negatives – images of unending scenes brought to life
In this moment we smile; maybe too much
Problems concealed with style – click and flash
flashing lights, euphoric … some blink in agreement
That reassurance, the light in our darkness
which Lifts the fog from our shadows.
Others, eyes wide open – flash!
Like tourists, they let their senses devour the moment
trusting this ‘one eyed box’ with their deepest secrets
In this spotlight, our silhouettes - naked
Our candid lives, as bare as all  the places in our minds
we refuse to acknowledge the man behind this one-eyed box
An artist eager to retouch our imperfections.

Running away
Hiding
Without no one knowing
For a day
For a day

Escaping from reality
Thinking about
all about the mess
all the thoughts
all the good and the bad
And you, maybe

Resting
But not sleeping
Walking without fear
Of tomorrow
Of the past
Even the future

The day today is much scarier
I need space
I need me
I need myself
Rebuild
Retouch
Reset