My thoughts once so crisp and clear,
Have begun to jumble and come too near.
What once was stored in neat little files,
Is now tumbling through space unruly and wild.
A crystal blue lake, calm and serine,
Polluted, contaminated, no longer clean.
The toxicity of your touch,
The lust for your poison.
Threw my world too much,
Like I took a love potion.
I love you, with all of my heart,
But I love him deep within my soul.
Together you two cloud up my mind,
Like murky waters below.
So here I stand, on this bridge,
Staring endlessly down.
Here I dream of clear blue water,
While stuck inside the mud,
This murky ***** water,
Makes my heart fall heavy, and thud.

It started with a series of drips
A pool of sky's water slipping beneath the heavy door
From six floors up it fell
Flinging itself off ones step and then another
A thousand tiny waterfalls rushed
Falling and dancing down six concrete stories
Serine light bouncing as it cascaded
Littering the almost cobalt walls in a reflective show
The greatest beauty in the decrepit city
Seen by the lost boy sitting in the stairwell.

Bright must be the light that shines from within, deep and roaring with the overwhelming radiance of a thousand suns.
The fuel surges through our veins and our tried courage the ember which sets the blaze of triumph raging through the ages.
We are the light, bane of the dark.
Fear not the flames, for our valour is the blade that splits the sky a sunder, sending ripples through the very fabric of the universe for all eternity.
The great white wolf walks at our side and the raven reveals to us the route less traveled. Righteous with our every step to purge this existence of the wicked and the cruel.
Lay down beloved foe, you are forgiven.
And when it is our time to die, our death song will thunder with all the resounding clarity of a dying star.
Guardians of savage love and serine peace. Let the sweet scent of roses take you away,  feel the kind sun kiss your flesh and greet death with a smile. Hello old friend I'm coming home... Victorious.

i look through my window
and i see my life looking back

i look through my window
and i see what my could have been

i look through my window
and i see my death

a death so beautiful and serine
it looks like im sleeping
sleeping on a bed of satin
flowing down a river
a single rose between my hands
with red hair floating around me
like a halo

Flowering in my hand
The godforsaken darkness of this bedroom
I stand for waves of consciousness
Although my only accessibility is to be seated
And to let the walls and the dry waves beneath us
Cushioning the air like newly wedded palm trees
All savory and nearly serine
Minus their little tatter tantrums,
Decide what is allowed to be easy on the ocean ears
And what is a blue-dusk silver shattering storm instead.

You jump in once
Your body all made of hands and feet
And the communal clatter of thanking God
Soaring your way down the only descend
After making allies with the butterflies
Making pockets in clouds
And does anyone know how to spell home
In embroidered lace pink
Or can we still go in head first?

A Dead Tree
So stark not a spark is left abuse thoroughly viewed a large branch splintered and busted is evidence of
Deaths spasm the aura deepens at ground level the finery of your life now bold and black is the
Silhouette you reach sky ward still but with reduced arms that are empty and they have no feeling
Just a resting place for a solitary bird the gloom covers you the battle lost the cost was high you paid to
Play among the hues that tantalize the enrichment of life fuses all together the wind plays upon your
Hard skin the vestiges of time preyed on you and you made no complaint you were given a choice a piece
Of land to cover and occupy you did it admirably each day you stood your ground you took you’re part
In Representing the good earth you had abundance of worth the winged stole away in the folds of your
Mighty presence the woodland creatures made their nest high in your crown a flourishing honor you
Bade to the Forrest serine you reduced the cold hardness that would have been if you hadn’t taken your
Stand bared the elements helped make small changes a cleaner more perfect nature drew from your
Roots and then the winds of change brought a fading to your very existence colorless was a hard one
To except when always that was your best feature green that sprang out from the base hard tone it was a
Singing image came to full range nothing can hold a candle to thy head so high the sky plays about
Wondrous it made us think how much you must know with such a princely view rarity personified
Looking over the earth as it renews itself a spectacle how rich and blessed when the rains wash your
Face with joy you stretch and creak then the thunder fills the air the wonder rolls evenly throughout this
Wild domain the lighting puts on its show thrilling with the hint of danger your loss still evident from the
Time it personally blinded you left its flaming calling card you lost a sizeable portion of your mature
Branch you understand power in the base meaning of the word then like all living things it was the
Sign of the end you felt the weight of sagging that was unknown before you had luxury of a slow demise
Still you bore the glory of many years you fulfilled your destiny of a monarch thanks for standing so long
And the grace you shared made us all indulge in the finery so richly you have expressed

The Shed

This temporary transient visited place so common nothing to distinguish it from just a sad hovel. After entering you find the most extraordinary pieces of your history. Garden tools that your mother and father shared you remember their toiling for hours on end with them being enthralled in this simple pleasure. On the work bench a broken flower *** oh how the scent of potting soil rushes into the mind the feeling of the cool black moist mixture as you work with it with your fingers. The flower that stands so seemingly jaunty after you packed it snugly in a brand new ***. It seemed to sense its beauty did it not shoot forth the sweetest fragrance that now you believe you can still smell.

Suddenly a cloud burst and the rain begins to dance on the tin roof in fact the sound has no outward melody but in the heart what pleasure it couldn’t be better what raw power to soothe to voice such serine harmony with such fundamental materials everything comes together in this roar and deafening assault you pray that it doesn’t stop

Has the time sped by so fast now you sit in the quiet darkness and then slowly the wind builds momentum it fairly howls then with unerring aim it finds just the right defect in the wood it starts the most joyful sound as you hear creaking and moaning sounds acoustic wonders surround has the night minstrel brought yet another magnificent performance for your hearing alone. Truly it has enjoy the magic that only the mysteries of the night can produce.

On the wall there they hang in splendor license plates from the grand vacation you took as a family your dad was so proud he was able to introduce ever one to this great country beyond the borders of home and the well known paths that were worn almost to the point of dullness but now when added to the new and grander whole it renewed and made home recapture its true worth.
You step back and your gaze comes to rest on your father’s favorite place here his tools seem to hold the honored spot. How could they be more orderly? And reverently displayed cleaned and oiled ready at all times for use. Then you remember his great strong hands how he held them almost lovingly as he explained there uses to you. He seemed to be always adding new ones it caused you to wonder is he going to run out of room. The question was answered the day he showed off his brand new red standup tool box how he beamed.
It does seem some books and papers have gotten out of hand just strewn about but that only adds charm and warmth to the place. A special place of abandonment setting for long periods no order just fleeting thoughts that appear then dissolve into others as they silently enter this private world.
I could tell you more but after all it just a shed I left the door open why not go on in and set a spell I’m sure you have similar memories in this place truly time is suspended your cherished memories its only reality. The world can be stark and unkind but God saw fit that that within a small wooden structure you could find an oasis. Cool not only the physical temperature but give the mind and soul this delightful respite.

I look across the hallway down a ways
What I see also sees me
She waves
I am astonished
Does she see that?
Does she see the way I feel?
I walk over
She is focused on me
She only sees me
I reach in
I feel a chill down my spine
I stay focused
She wraps her arms around me
I feel relaxed, soothed, serine
She can taste me
My Past
My Present
My future
She knows every little thing I have said and done
She has invaded my secrets I tell no one
I don’t mind
She pulls
I let her
I hear footsteps hurrying near
They are pulling me out
Why?
I could stay here forever
I am free here
I am suddenly released from the dazed spell she put on me
A little longer?
I don’t mind

Only felt a moment,
a moment in a dream.
Suckling neuro pollen
The solstace of this minute
The magnus mental stream.

I found the new oasis
I saw the new serine
I found the new oasis
I saw her in a dream

I left a little of my love for her in the waters edge.
The rise and fall of the tide, tinted gold by sunset.
I remember how she loves the beach.
The feeling of warmth,
Being kissed by the sun,
cooled by the bubbling serine waters.
I left a little of my love for her in my dance shoes.
The twinkles of a rhythm in every step of tele-tones.
The beauty and hardship in my grishkos.
I remember how much she loves to dance.
The energy in her body as she danced across a floor.
Lightning, glowing plasma moving strong and sharp.
Summoning pure love for her craft with every step.
I remember how she could completely change for a dance,
Become someone, something, so different from the girl I saw inside.
I left a little of my love In the music.
Allowing my fingers to play for more love,
More love.
Kissing each note that left my lips
Telling them
Find her,
Reach my love for me
Each note sung for her like a siren
‘Feel my love. Know it. It is the truest thing of me.
It is my song.’
She always said she loved my voice.
And and I would sing only for her.
I left a little of my love in the poetry.
In FaceTime chats,
Helping her write lines for class,
Her flustered tones,
As she struggled writing the prose
That so easily came to me in starlight.
When I was in love.
Every poem was about her,
My love.
The lines of my heartstrings
Written in rhythmic prose
I could have written about her forever,
How her hair bounced like fizzy pop
The way she walked,
As if she were always onstage.
I fell in love with the rhyme in her steps.
I left a little of my self with her
I don’t know if she can feel it.
The love I left with her,
A letter with a return address.
She may never send it back,
But it will always be there in her,
In friendship.
I am waiting for the first meeting
To relive the first time we talked.
I do not need lost love,
Yet I miss friendship lost in time step,
The amity in backstage jokes,
And crocheted scarves.
So
Should she ever need love,
I will always be here for her.

Daunting voice, you possess
Dressed the ghost in pasty bed sheets
Bleeding lips, livid soul
I must get out; I mustn't feel like this

Clouds of grey infection
Cough echoed hallways
As ripe as a golden apple
That rests in the palm of your hand

Shrieking imagery, but
Always safely hidden
400 thread count sheets, and
Hands made of silver

The sky is speckled with
Cheap glitter again.
Fingernails stained yellow
Eyes complying with gravity

Alleviate; please be serine, lovely
I almost neglected to recall
Yellow grass between toes;
Fallen trees forming obstacles

Lips on skin
Thighs and torso
Walls and doors
Breeze in windows

“I’m madly in love with you”

…

“Some people feel like they don’t deserve love”

Who am I, Where am I going?

Who am I?
As I gaze up into the sky.
I got no answer, from the other side.
Where am I going?
On a road not knowing.
With only the wind behind me blowing.

No one knows me,
When I am down on my knees.
How can I believe?
No more do I dare to dream.
I can only hear my own screams.
Life here is not all that serine.

Now all there is to see is the tears,
Running from my face of fears.
In my heart an arrow spears.
Who am I?
If I were to die?
What would be left but the lie.

Where am I going?
Is not so concerning,
When its over I will not be knowing.
Life is like a boat,
Sometimes all you can do is stay afloat.
And if you fall your bound to get soaked.

To dream is to be happy.
All I ever wanted was to just be me.
All I ever needed was to be free.
Life is not made from dreaming.
Life is always about screaming.

Who am I?
As I gaze up into the sky.
Searching for the answer from the other side.
Where am I going?
Only the one is all knowing.
His voice is the wind behind me blowing.

He tells me to keep going along.
He tells me to live and to be strong.
He asks me to keep fighting just to belong.
Day by day in the light.
Holding onto my life so tight.
Give life a chance and fight.

Don’t let go so fast.
Sometimes dreams do last.
Make your life a blast.
Who are you?
Where are you going?

Relaxing in waters splashing on the sides
of my boat of conscious thoughts tides.
My hat covering ill views of the outside
world, I  lingered relaxed as sight did hide.

But waters hid the lingering threat  beneath
that all was not what it seemed underneath.
That I wasn't alone in this serine quiet place,
devouring needs, my normal thought displaced.

So many consuming my emotions  all being replaced
I was no longer in harmony like I had been misplaced.
Still in my boat my only safe place, while they swam
around, I felt like I was singular and my mind a sham.

They rocked the boat tried to push me into despair
but my mind was winning they were going elsewhere.
An ocean of reflection is a large place to get lost in thought,
But if ever in waters not known, heed what this has taught.

I was washed up on your shores
thinking you were serine blanket
                      that would caress me.

But you were more like a breeze
               gently eroding me before
I knew I was less than I was before.

You shaped me into a figure that
was useful eroding me inwards
             till I was a shell of my former self.

When I ever listened within,
     I only heard your voice washing
                           in waves seducing my mind.

Flying sky high
Marshmallows floating
Serine amazing
Turbulence  
I think I need an ambulance!!
Never felt like this before
Excited. Scared. Bored.

This curve. Smooth
White soup. Horizon glowing
This flight is to slow

I need to ****! Should I?
Will I?

Sitting in this white plain rectangle of a desk
Piled up with all the accumulated mess
Missing my brain but trying to impress
I ride this wave
I ride this wave
I ride a car
I ride my brain
I ride your mind
I know that your mind is serine
It fixes my bein'
It's a light house beam
And I'm drowning in this scene
And I wish to come clean
But you fill the scene and you beam
I can't fixate my brain cells on one thing

I can't fixate my brain cells on one thing

I can't fixate my brain cells on one thing

I can't gravitate
To this attraction
It's not magic
It's static
It's Flabrostaic
Cause your being is nothing I could've imagined

But still it's not magic
It's just problematic

Leave your treasures,
Forget to listen,
To all of your peers and their sayings,
Your cash can’t help you here,

Killing lies,
Till death do us apart,
Killing lies,
No care can be too much,

A field of lies,
Truth mines,
A tragedy,
Serine oblivion,
Pure bubbles of treachery,

Killing lies,
Tonight won’t end ever,
Killing lies,
Get “A”s you’ll do well in life,

Death in jubilation
Of truth’s explanation

Un amateur d'oiseaux avait, en grand secret,
Parmi les œufs d'une serine
Glissé l'œuf d'un chardonneret.
La mère des serins, bien plus tendre que fine,
Ne s'en aperçut point, et couva comme sien
Cet œuf qui dans peu vint à bien.
Le petit étranger, sorti de sa coquille,
Des deux époux trompés reçoit les tendres soins,
Par eux traité ni plus ni moins
Que s'il était de la famille.
Couché dans le duvet, il dort le long du jour
A côté des serins dont il se croit le frère,
Reçoit la becquée à son tour,
Et repose la nuit sous l'aile de la mère.
Chaque oisillon grandit, et, devenant oiseau,
D'un brillant plumage s'habille ;
Le chardonneret seul ne devient point jonquille,
Et ne s'en croit pas moins des serins le plus beau.
Ses frères pensent tout de même :
Douce erreur qui toujours fait voir l'objet qu'on aime
Ressemblant à nous trait pour trait !
Jaloux de son bonheur, un vieux chardonneret
Vient lui dire : Il est temps enfin de vous connaître ;
Ceux pour qui vous avez de si doux sentiments
Ne sont point du tout vos parents.
C'est d'un chardonneret que le sort vous fit naître.
Vous ne fûtes jamais serin : regardez-vous,
Vous avez le corps fauve et la tête écarlate,
Le bec... Oui, dit l'oiseau, j'ai ce qu'il vous plaira ;
Mais je n'ai point une âme ingrate,
Et mon cœur toujours chérira
Ceux qui soignèrent mon enfance.
Si mon plumage au leur ne ressemble pas bien,
J'en suis fâché ; mais leur cœur et le mien
Ont une grande ressemblance.
Vous prétendez prouver que je ne leur suis rien,
Leurs soins me prouvent le contraire :
Rien n'est vrai comme ce qu'on sent.
Pour un oiseau reconnaissant
Un bienfaiteur est plus qu'un père.

When night falls and the sun is gone

when we are tucked into bed

The radiant beauty is borns

And once old  granny  said



She is of serine white, a colour of pure

A thousands myths she has spun

A hundred if which she has cure

all the night while having fun



Little did I know, who she is

Just a creature in the night sky

Oh! what can we do of her milky bliss

I wish only…..  Alas I  could fly



The brightest star in the night sky

The silver star like my silver spoon

She wants to be one, but can’t, so try

Oh my dear sparkling star, you’d always be the moon

In the spring of
2018
When
Freedom took the butterflies and tried to extinct them from my world

Took their wings and split them into inharmonious melodies
Inside of hidden sapphire
gemstone
rings


Through the Holy Sparkle of these promises gliding onto spirit paper.
Linoleum marble

Glass mirrors
refracted



The Majestic creates
The manifested
Lady
Shift
Power
Unfolding silk curtains
sheets
Glowing
In the rippling
fields of magnetic supreme
Dipping in and out
of the dabbling
Serine

A screen that presents itself through transmission televised
Masks both pleasure and pain

Did you ever think “what does the unseen mean”? Did you ever think about its capacity to heal the unrelenting wounds of days gone by and give way to newness?

The movement towards your cause and Shift?
Such is in the live vision of an idealistic pursuit to be loved that measures up to how we wish we could be in our able bodies
But not all express their will
Like eucalyptus trees growing behind a fourth wall
Whispering to one another in vein

Show me how others see me.


We are made in the image of stardust
An ethereality
of a naively romantic quality
Made for God's knowing


Do you ever think about if the sun and the sunset ever met?

The power is not in the oppressor
It is in the light of your own inner wisdom
The current drawn from your internal knowledge
Electrified in your personal power to change

Vanquish the darkness
From within you
Even abyss cannot reach
The beauty inside
The chasms of your mind
Will never fault
Won’t you take my hand
To serine places
Tranquil thoughts bring us
Upon this journey
A nebulous entanglement
Forever intwined
Unto the farthest reaches
Of the cosmic infinite
I will show you
A hue of Colours not seen
Staggering emotion
No masquerade
Of broken thoughts
We are here