Bridle the night winds

The man walked into the cancer ward it spoke of him as a large man shoulder length hair distinguished crisp white shirt but the
Important thing was what he carried he set it down opened the case took out the bow and the violin this to me is the one instrument
That almost can match almost all dilemmas that befall man he stood in that ward and started to play these men were engulfed
In tragic and severe night winds the violin can mimic the wind it can go from sheer to broad deep sounds and then with the change of
A finger to a different string and depending on the amount of pressure a tune of pleasure emanates it goes through pain like a ship’s
Bow cuts through rough deep waters rolling to both sides and the sound goes deep within beyond the outer trunk of the body to
The reservoir of the spirit and soul let me describe it from a special story a young man of our faith was caught in the evil ways
Of a serial killer in Houston’s outskirts he was trust up like an animal for slaughter as he hang there and was being tortured though
The body was experiencing agony down in his soul he was with his savior in worship and it wasn’t the lowly Galilean of meekness we
Are so familiar with but this Jesus John said and I turned to see the voice that spake with me and being turned I saw seven golden
Candlesticks And in the midst of the seven candlesticks [one] like unto the Son of man, clothed
With a garment down to the foot, and girt about the pap’s with a golden girdle. His head and His hairs were
white like wool as white as snow and his eyes were as a flame of fire and his feet like unto fine brass as if they burned in a
Furnace and his voice as the sounds of many waters. And He had in his right hand seven stars and out of His mouth went a
Sharp twoedged sword and his countenance was as the sun shineth in strength the soul of this suffering tormented one
Was in a unique place of blessing although the outward man perish the spirit will be renewed he escaped and lived to
Praise and extol God and his power over evil the violin has the power to illuminate the soul in dark circumstances then
You are positioned to call for the master’s aid they say the bow string best for the deep more moving pieces are taken
From dark hairs from horse’s tail in my mind’s eye I see a great black stallion standing on a great protruding rock looking
Down on the valley below behind him is a sweep of more rocks holding much pine in dark silhouette as they sweep even
Higher the full moon shines through the pine he paws the ground he shakes his massive head shoulder and mane
Exhibiting His power the evidence of his dominance shows on his neck where plainly you can see bites and hoof marks
From battles fought and won that made him supreme monarch of this range thats where to get the hair for the bow
Especially in the next setting the prison cat walk is dimly lit the violin races fast and mean and deep there are times
When violent fists are the only measure available when you must bend another to your will and destroy his and at other
Times words gentle and kind disarm your opponent by wisdom he can be made to lay down his claim to his ill thought
Desires you pass the cell those piercing searching eyes fasten on you your movements annoy your free they live in
A cage with steel bars and they are not free the tempo rises as you pass on and out of site music has soul and on this
Occasion it dims convulses dies with a lonely whimper only walls of stone record.

There is another wall this one closes in the rich in his house filled to over flowing the man battled long and hard to reach
These rare heights and then finds it’s an empty world and back along the path of life a neglected family fell in disarray
There nothing like dysfunctional tied in a beautiful bow of materialism no one pities but the violinist in the cancer ward
Was asked to play a certain piece with French as the main theme the violin has a high sharp very thin note for the rich
But empty it would be the French Alps cold austere terribly distant a true hollow plaintive almost crying plea lost in the
Vast expanse but still a soul void of understanding things never go with or warm a heart only love is needed tonight I set in
Church I didn’t at first realize my bible was twenty years old it is just a little full bible although it’s the size of a new
Testament the black leather has taken a beating cracked split on each edge but as I turned it the over head light caught
The gold leaf edged paper I have never been big on gold but there can’t be any material like it how soft how rich the
Color It touched and moved me there was an auction an old violin like my bible had seen better days with indifference
The Auctioneer calls do I hear three dollars no response but after a little time an old gentlemen rose walked up picked up
The Violin started to play the sounds that drifted were as heaven cracked and the treasured sound was pouring in well
when The old man stopped and laid the violin down the auctioneer resumed but now he said who will give a thousand the
Bidding stopped at three thousand what happened was the question well it was the master who played it because he knows
Best and He put in the secrets to start with you look at yourself your pretty happy but your gold needs his light the silver bow
The diamond crusted frog and the great stallion’s contribution is lost in this world but not for much longer

Mercy is blowing in the night wind

Tonight
I see
Through photo
My own

I'm black
I'm white
And I'm
Asian
Puerto Rican,
Brown, Middle Eastern and
Middle European praying to

Put the big oh' world on my shoulder
And watch me carry it
As it tries to weight me down

Symmetrical smile pass the mile
You think I was meant for something great?
Where'd you get that sign?
And why's your guilt sound like a whine?
Pass me the salt and pass me the pepper
When I'm out of here
I know things will be getting better

Feeling alone in room full of people
is like a corpse on the shoulder,
it's like anchors at your chest.
I do this trick where I disappear
just long enough that when I return
no one will call me.

I don't want to be alone,
but I feel like vase that breaks,
and every time I try I am less whole,
and in a different shape.

I'm always scared that I am getting so **** old
when I still feel like I fit in my mother's lap.
With her hands through my hair,
I can finally sleep,

but I have the same weird dream where
I am 15 and I'm making out with Mikey
in the restroom of Russell's party.

He is lifting my shirt and I tell him if he stops
he can still tell his friends that I let him touch me.

Mikey smiles and leaves, and again
somebody else is telling my story.

Kissing
just

that small area
of your naked

shoulder,
my lips

just touching,
brushing,

your skin warm,
smooth,

my moustache
tickling

you to laughter,
settled you

to ease
for *** after.

I think I've decided I'm crazy
Like really lost my mind
But you're just as crazy
So I've come to find.

"Let's talk about how beautiful you are," you said
And snuggled into my shoulder
"Let's talk about spaceships," I said
Maybe I was growing bolder.

Then you replied, wittily,
"You'd look beautiful in a spaceship."
And that was when I realized
I was biting my lip.

Because you see, the mingling
Of the Strings, all around you and me
Have intertwined our crazy minds
And thus set us free.

I might look pretty in a spaceship
But that is not the point
The point is, the ground we fell upon
Has a common joint.

And maybe that doesn't make sense
But to me, I see the factors matching
Connecting all our String Theory Strings,
Each others breath we are catching.

And maybe that's what love is
When our wriggly Strings combine
Or maybe that's how you teleport
And even read my mind.

Either way, I think we're crazy
And match up fairly true
Pretty in a spaceship, or not
I am definitely in love with you.

Which is better

To feel nothing
But a halcyon calm
Like a fine summer morning,
Or to be ****** to and fro
By the ice, spray, and lightning
Of the tempest?

To stroll the meadow,
Or to climb the mountain?

I've gone through both
Yet the answer still eludes me
I remain as ignorant as I was
In the days of my youth

But what I do know
Is how my chest tightened
How my breath caught
When you sent me a message
(Your very first)
And how my lips impulsively purse
As I peek at yours
And at the speck of a mole
Resting right below

What I do know
Is how I couldn't keep my eyes
From straying towards your corner
(Still can't)
And how my hand trembled
Just as I squeezed your shoulder
Bidding you farewell

Or how I've worn out my iPod
Replaying Jay Chou's ballads
As I sang my heart out to my steering wheel
Numbly crawling through
The maddening, seething traffic

And how the breeze eats my cigarette
Down to its filter
As I stare up
Dumbfounded
Mapping out
Tracing your face among the stars

How my neurotransmitters **** me
Closer and closer to a heart attack
And how my soul weeps and bemoans
The yawning chasm betwixt us
While you sit there infuriatingly oblivious
Chattering away about Warcraft and barley tea

All these things are
The few of what I do know
The last of which
Is how I'll never have you.

Courtney’s old subaru stuttered and stalled as she sat at the red light. The large blue duffle bag sat ominously on the leather seat beside her. She couldn’t look at it.
God, Luci. Why did you get yourself into trouble? Courtney’s mind was racing. Ridiculous. This is ridiculous. She ****** her head to look at the bag. It was bulging.
The bag was stained and dusty, ripped along the seams in some places. Courtney’s phone rang loudly. She jumped, and held onto the steering wheel with one hand and answered.
“Hello?”She was silent as the voice on the other end talked quickly. “No, I’m not there yet... yes, I’ve got it.. No, I haven’t touched it... Yes, sir. She’s very sorry... I know, sir. Yes I’’ll tell her.” She hung up. Her face was ghost white, her palms and forehead sweaty.
Many voices argued in her head. I shouldn’t be doing this for her. She broke the law. But Luci’s your sister! That doesn’t matter. She caused the whole family a lot of pain and money. And now I’M breaking the law. What the hell?!
She looked back over at the duffle bag. It sat staring at her accusingly. She turned away. Her car was getting awfully hot, so she rolled down the windows, letting air flow through. Checking her watch, she hiccuped with surprise. Her foot slammed down on the gas, her head pressed against her seat from the quick acceleration. Her car’s enging groaned with the speed, but she couldn’t slow down.
*******, Luci. I really hate you right now.
Suddenly, she saw flashing lights and heard a sharp wailing sound behind her. A police car pulled right up behind her, speeding along, signaling for her to pull over to the shoulder of the road. Courtney’s eyes were wide with fright, and her palms were sweating profusely, leaving stains on her steering wheel. Oh god oh god oh god oh god...Ohhhh my goddddd.
Courtney slammed on her breaks, pulling over. A man in uniform knocked on her window, and she rolled it down slowly. There was a loud noise from the passenger seat and Coutney’s world slowed as she saw the duffle bag fall to the floor of the car, the zipper breaking and the contents spilling onto the carpeted floor.
The policeman’s face was horrorstruck.
“Ma’am...” He stuttered. “I’m going to have to ask you to...step out of the car and put..put your hands on your head.”

A sprinkles the ashes while B kneels to God.
C is crying, D is remembering when
E F(ell) down the stairs and called G to
drive to the hospital.
For H’s gravestone, I think that it was
J who Karved the words
Lovely Man.
N had arranged the flowers before O even left
to identify P’s body.
Q will not be missed by anyone.
R asked S,
“when will we die?”
he had no response.
T over-heard and responded,
“we’ve told U before
and you know”.
V pulls another tissue from the box
as W pats his shoulder in false comfort.
X knows that it is indeed
Y who killed Z,
                so he ignores and looks at A,
                still sprinkling ashes.

In this world of uncertainty there will be a defining moment of judgment and regret,
And when the world falls to its knees and trembles you will remember,
It is because WE dared,
It is because we stood against those who Oppressed,
It is because we stood against the tyrants,
It is because we faced the murderers,
It is because when the world turned its backs and ignored the death of the our own children that we rose,
We who dared to take a stand,
We who dared stand against the death and destruction,
It is we who dared stand shoulder to shoulder across the lands and being so few,
Took a stand against many,
It is We who dared to resign ourselves to whichever fate befalls us,
It is we who offered all, mind, limb, body, and soul,
It is we that walk the streets where the very road can explode without notice and rip bone and flesh
It has been our screams that pierce the night,
Our blood which turns the sands crimson,
It is our hearts that are shattered, our minds broken,
Broken by the sight of innocent children torn apart, disemboweled by the explosions,
It is We that have seen the women and children grown accustom to guns and death,
To soldiers walking the streets as giants, wearing armor and war,
To the rumbling of humvees, tanks, and behemoths driving the streets,
It is we who stand with grim determination ready to sweat, bleed, and **** and die,
And it WE who have stood against our nations enemies since birth,
It is we who have dared to sacrifice,
It is WE who have been forgotten and left by friends, family, and lovers,
BUT,
It is WE who dare,
When the world crumbles around your feet,
When all your injustices of forgetfulness, of hate and protest come to light,
And when you fall to your knees with hands held to the sky and your cries fill the night,
When your screams echo into eternity and beg for We to save you,
It is then that WE who dare,
WE who have remembered all that we have lost, all that you have taken from us,
All that you have spit on us, have thrown at us, all those hateful things you have said to us,
IT is We who will hear your cries and remember,
And then it is WE who dare,
It is WE who dare to stand ready and we will reply,
WE DARE, and WE WILL FIGHT

Through Time and Space
I'll keep the same face

In an ice storm
In the desert heat

I love sweet jam
Oh what a treat

The same dull expression
It's plain to see

That this human life
Is not thrilling to me

I do my duty at work
And spend hours at the gym

I hit golf ***** on the range

And pray for forgiveness of sins

I purchased a book about
Abraham Lincoln
And the Coming of the Civil War

Welcome to earth
It's kind of a bore?

I don't want to be touched
By another human being

Some say that is a symptom
Of Aspergers it seems

These people
Seem clueless
To the dangerous economic
Situation our country is in

Politicians on the television
Say the same slogans
Again and again

The dwindling middle class
In this country
Cannot win

So what is this life about
I do not know
Seems like one big movie
Just watching a show

Looks like I found some work
That's good for me

Just want to do my duty

And so in the world
Of time and space
I hope to feel
Heavenly grace

My shoulder a permanent
Burden to bare

Picture me
On the driving range
Hitting golf *****
Without a care

Flowing water
Is what I want to become

Don't worry about being loved
Become love
And that way
Life is more fun

Yesterday, while waiting for a bus on the corner of Newbury Street
I found God.
She carried a burlap sack over her shoulder a map of the world in her right hand and a bottle of whiskey in her left.
She asks me where I’m headed and I tell her I’m running.
She tells me she is too
She says: “ It all started when I was a kid, I held the solar system in my palm and took the colors from the palette of galaxies and finger painted the Earth.”
I took something that was nothing and made it everything.
And every day since, this world has thinned me.
Asking too much out of something too little.
I fear the darkness that was created from the light I produced.
Some days, all my body can do is act like the Earth and tremble.
And in the deepest hour, my heart grew heavier than the sky that watches us all so I let it go.
I let the pain rain down like morning dew getting caught on people’s cheekbones.

I want to purify the air and our oxygen of all that is unjust in every atom.  
When I look into your eyes I see bigots,
I see sexists,
And killers
And I want to want to rid our days of the night but I can’t.
So instead, I hit children.
May they stay forever full of laughter and light
Of pigtails and play-doh and gummy worms and popsicle sticks.
white dresses and untied shoelaces.
In a world where guns double for dignity
Where love is a receipt
Where self-worth is measured by grade point average.
Dare not the dark fault their fair eyes.
Dare their souls not fall victim to the tainted being that is our sleepless nights and alleviated anguish.
When I look into your eyes, I see hate. But when I look through them, a see a child.
And so I lose myself on the bench of a bus stop on the corner of Newbury street.
Watching the world tumble down like a toddler learning to climb a staircase.
In my absence, the polluted cloud that makes its bed on our sky dissipates among the rain storms.
Should you run, you steal light from this fading life.

And I say to her
Show me how to be the bravery I ever so seldom see in the world.
I wanna lift bridges with poems
And I wanna lift poems out of my warm breath.

And she tells me

What rocky roads you have in front of you.
What hands you have yet to hold.
But I’ll tell you one thing
You’re already something
And something’s better than nothing
And that is everything.

Holden Caulfield
2. That movie that I saw last weekend that I thought you would like
3. The mix tapes you made me. I still listen to them in my car
4. The way I dance and wondering if you would like it if you saw me.
5. The Kooks and how you hate them.
6. Hospice
7. Late nights sleeping alone and knowing you're awake, but oh so silent.
8. Wondering if you're thinking about me too
9. The poems you wrote me. Your handwriting is classy.
10. The picture of Hilary Duff on my desk reminding me to be good
11. My bed and how you used to be there.
12. My friends and how you used to be one of them
13. Uptown
14. My ticklish spots that no longer get touched
15. My cat... he misses you.
16. Speaking Spanish and how you used to correct it, and sometimes be impressed
17. Wearing bows in my hair. How you used to love them.
18. The clothes I bought at that thrift store yesterday. I wonder if you'd like them.
19. Mehermahermahermaherm
20. Listening to Bright Eyes.
21. Listening to the sound of loneliness.
22. Coffee and how you say "Americano" with a roll of the tongue.
23. The last bit in my tea and how it's "too sweet to swallow."
24. Sitting close on the couch. Your hand stroking mine. Sneaking a kiss on the cheek.
25. Missing busses and missing you.
26. How I used to cheer you up.
27. The stars and sheep and roses.
28. Seth Rogan
29. Meditating and how I can't do it with you constantly clogging up my brain.
30. Laughing
31. I never learned to salsa dance with you and your brutally honest hips.
32. Carrot Creme Brulee
33. Hand dance duets
34. The empty spaces between my fingers
35. Your grey corduroy pants are my favorite.
36. When you called me your coriño.
37. How you would have scoffed at me copying and pasting an "ñ".
38. Attempting to show you music you would like.
39. Failing at showing you music you like.
40. Sending you hearts.
41. Arching my back.
42. Eating ice cream and how I'm better when it's here.
43. How I'm better when you're here.
44. How Cory is better when Topanga is there.
45. Italian Night Clubs
46. You and Me and Everyone We Know
47. Tyronne Street
48. Ice Land
49. Getting lost.
50. Drunken parties and thrashing fists.
51. Second chances
52. Being half of something.
53. Wearing your cardigan
54. Long embraces and never wanting to move.
55. Doing my homework with you sitting next to me. Not letting you read over my shoulder
56. Teaching you about the body.
57. Your smile, and how you give a little chuckle every time I see it.
58. How we used to laugh about nothing.
59. Really bad cookies.
60. Butter face.
61. Jealousy
62. Hating modernized Shakespeare
63. Confessions
64. Embarrassed faces buried in pillows
65. Incredulous about me hating Elvis
66. Miles ******* Davis
67. Singing softly to the radio
68. Playing the piano. Singing for you when you're not around.
69. Wondering if you're reading this right now.
70. Hoping that you've gotten this far down the list.
71. Be the Pitta to my Vata
72. Kate Upton has saggy *****.
73. I just want to make spaghetti with you.
74. How you hate ellipsis
75. Wondering whether or not I spelled that correctly because I know you would judge.
77. Leaving tearful voice-mails
78. John Lennon and Yoko Ono's Rolling Stone cover
79. Looking at art, wishing I was Monet.
80. My sundress on the floor.
81. Not seeing that new movie in theaters (the one that won all those Oscars) because I only want to see it with you.
82. Getting angry when Kacie B. didn't get the rose on the Bachelor and knowing you're angry too because Courtney ***** as a person.
83. I'm an ugly crier.
84. Hitting bread pans
85. Your green plaid jacket
86. Vulgarity
87. Insecurity
88. "Back and forth. Forever."
89. How that one song reminds you of me and I still don't know why.
90. How you deserve the best
91. It makes me sad that I'm at number 91 and you're still nowhere to be found.
92. Going to ballet class with the anticipation of seeing you afterward.
93. You asking me how ballet was, whether you were interested or not.
94. whispers "Let me be your hero."
95. Never seeing your fur vest.
96. Holding hands when we shouldn't have.
97. Velvet leggings
98. The last wonder of the world.
99. I fear that I will forget what your face looks like.
100. Reaching one-hundred with so much more to say.

My Sweet Pumkana, (Beth)
the most beautiful woman in the world.
You truly swept me away.
So Cultured, rooted in her traditions.
Natural hair flowing to her shoulder.
Aremis, the oil that makes her skin glow.
No Make-up.
Super natural.

Without you, it seems so hard
But i know the secret, I will never laugh at you when you fall
Trip on your face.
Your innocence turns me on,
Oh most beautiful of them all.
I want to come meet your parents...
so we may get their blessings as we kneel right before them
To sanctify...
Approve
That you may be mine, and I, Yours.

See, meeting you was a favor, a blessing.
I still am trying to figure out what you did to me...
But I will not Leave, am determined to stay
because you, and only you, are my Eminado.*

©The Unspoken

I want to fall in love with you.
Not for the happily ever after but for the turmoil
and the pain
for the ability to sit
by your side and say
those three special words
for all that you are
because I enjoy your trials and tribulations
your angst and anger
your sorrow and sublime guilt
your tears on my shoulder and your arms around me
your sobs wracking my body
I want to fall in love with you
because isn't loving
something broken the most
beautiful
kind of love?
I want to love you like someone would a bird
caged but beautiful
wings clipped so you can only fly sort distances from me
I want to love you
for your dependence and
depression
I want to love you because
I want to love myself
But I can't...

I met Sally on the hill with a nickel bag of ******.
      She didn't pay me in money.
Instead, information and a little persuasion made the baggie leave my right back pack pocket
     “Dollars could never have made sense of it anyway
          We throw pennies away opting for the opulence that big bills entail
   Retail will never amount to the amount I've blown on blow”
    Or so she said behind Louis Vuitton shades shielding eyes half dead
           A ****** with a monkey on her back fed by a steady stream of opiates
       “I open this line of communication so you can see we lack foundation and stability and yet
      We're trying to build a sand castle with all the powder we can possibly get
And if we're forced to forfeit that fortress, we snort more, still trying to forget” and with that she placed her sunglasses on top of her head

     I stood back with my back pack and I finally understood
                               Why drugs will make you richer than working ever could
                   They bag a gram put it on the scale and tell you what it weighs
      But they don't tell you how unnoticeable it is when your life slips away

         We sell the dream, we sell the aesthetics
    The drugs, the parties, the scene with guest lists
     Invincibility
        Pretty lights.
                Fun. All a lie.

*I almost fell on my face walking down the hill, staring into those blue eyes over my shoulder all the while.

(20 minute poetry)

A tap on the shoulder,
excuse me,

I'm older than you.

You want to get past me
you want to get through
you want me to move, but
I'm older than you.

We are
crammed in
we're rammed in
mashed up and
jammed in and you
want to get through,

Well
excuse me
I am older than you
and I'm slower.

If you grow a
bit more
you could walk over me
or maybe shrink a bit and
crawl on the floor,
but I'm older than you
I can't move in this crush so
you ain't getting through.

It's Monday anyway and no
fun for anyone day
thus I get in the way
and that's always the way
on Monday.

But I move along
some old gal on the
side seat is humming a
song,
she doesn't know it's
a Monday and I
won't
be the one
to say to her,
'you're nearly there'
she's older than me
and
it wouldn't be fair.

The public by and large .

There's a cross section and an even crosser section all heading in the same direction
and that's not fair either.

What hollow, caustic foulness lies behind the neatly edged hedges,
fences, plastic window frames and glass?
Resting, waiting to be woken, scream what now must not be spoken
Blood-lust of a gutless middle class
What simple lies must needs be told in bold authoritative tones
To activate the drones and make them fight -
To know, that if the call should come they'd march to that benighted drum
And sacrifice intelligence for right?
How big a monster must be built to shoulder guilt for every creeping fear
and insecurity and loss,
Till every hip and critical disclaimant finds a reason for believing
and then carries it, across.
How many layers must be stripped to tip the wretched shreds of indecision
into morals blown apart
And harmless bigot who, at work, was tolerated with a smirk
Now drives a dirk into a stranger's heart?
Now doctor, teacher, business leader, well-respected educated man
proclaims his harmlessness anew,
Make no mistake: the quills are fine and ready as the porcupine
prepares to show what harmless beasts can do.

Neck and neck,
when knee high in problems,
I've got your back,
and we, I think, can solve them.

I'll never lie,
but sometimes I'll be joking.
I hope you laugh,
without that life means nothing.

And If you cry,
let it please be on my shoulder,
can't lead my life
and leave my princess broken.

The stress in time
may bring me down to nothing,
but with your love,
to get through I'll keep shoving.

Passed obstacles,
a past filled with regret and dreams-
of how we could
last always, forever be.

Don't wonder why
if I seem any colder,
know deep inside
this guy is still your lover.

No chores this time,
no more, what's yours is mine this week.
You I adore,
so pass the ***** laundry.

Pass the soap,
the dishes too are coming clean.
And if you go,
know right here I'll be waiting.

Here by the door,
each day for the same girl,
to let you know,
remind you, you're my angel.

And it's worthwhile,
your smile, I'd never let it go.
Cheek to cheek,
I breathe to always love you so.

I sit and stare, the cursor blinks,
Writer’s block has all the kinks.
No inspiration, not a spark,
An empty page, my brain just dark.

But wait! Upon my shoulder sits
A creature of peculiar wits.
A chameleon, small and green,
The strangest writing buddy seen!

He ***** his head, one bulging eye,
And seems to say, “Come on, just try!”
Then, shifting hues to sunny gold,
He whispers tales yet to be told.

When drafting poems, sad and deep,
He turns to blue, begins to weep!
A tiny tear, a mournful sigh,
Reflecting feelings passing by.

For action scenes, a fiery red,
He puffs and hisses, filled with dread.
His little claws begin to tap,
Demanding twists within the gap.

If comedy’s the chosen style,
He turns bright pink and seems to smile.
And puffs his throat in silent glee,
Suggesting jokes for you and me.

He’s not much use with grammar rules,
And spelling? Well, he knows no schools.
He just provides the vibrant spark,
The wild ideas, and character arc.

Thank you, Allan, my scaly muse,
For chasing off the writer’s blues.
With every color, every change,
You help my creativity arrange!

You do not belong to this soil,
not the way they did—
feet sinking into peat,
lungs lined with salt and prayer,
bodies turning to moss before memory.

But still, you stand here,
four generations late,
hands in your Primark pockets,
mouthing names you were never meant to carry,
even as they sit inside you,
your first name stamped with their last,
a borrowed relic you never earned.

Your brother gripped the wheel like a lifeline,
right-side driving out of Dublin,
left shoulder braced against muscle memory,
like he expected the road to turn on him.
Mom rode shotgun,
printed-out censuses fanned across her lap,
highlighted, annotated, dog-eared—
a roadmap made of the dead.

You sat in the backseat,
cheek against the window,
watching Ireland unfold in slow exhales—
stone walls dividing nothing from nothing,
a horizon stitched with ruins,
the color of a postcard left too long in the sun.

Mom recited their names like prayer beads,
rolling them through her fingers,
waiting for recognition
that did not come.

And then you were there—
the grass, damp and grasping,
twined around your ankles,
softened under your weight,
pulling you down like something remembered.

The graveyard was older than the road that brought you there.
Headstones leaned like tired men,
softened by wind, by rain,
by the weight of a hundred years unspoken.
Their names smoothed into murmurs,
the dates washed into dashes.

And at every grave,
a small stone sign,
half-buried in moss,
letters chipped but certain:
KNEEL AND PRAY.
Not a suggestion. A sentence.

You did not kneel.
You touched the name instead,
ran your fingers over the grooves,
over the letters that built you
without ever knowing you would come.

A crow clicked its beak from the low wall,
watching the three of you like it had seen this before,
like it knew how this ended.

You whispered something you could not name.
The wind took it from your mouth,
tucked it into the tall grass,
laid it at their feet.

And then you left,
but the wet earth held its claim,
clinging to your soles,
like it knew you’d be back.

I stand here by the cliffs I have called home
since before my heart kept time,
and look into the sea, raging beneath my feet.
Each crashing spume spatters my face
with a cascade of tiny droplets,
like a shower of sea sprite kisses upon my cheeks and eyelids.
Through the mist I can just see the sun rising
like a golden disk of inexhaustible fire,
painting the cliff side in its incomparable magnificence.
All the horrors of this life wash away, like our original sin
under the baptismal font of the sea's spray.
Looking at that sun, my spirit soars, and I finally understand
the glory of being free.
Flocks of migratory birds dive and climb above the  roaring waves,
soon the puffin shall roost here, for now it is the smaller varieties
that serenade me in my morning revelry.
Everything is gorgeous out here in the mist, every creature and stone
glows with its own undeniable inner light, the cliffs turn into bonfires of beauteous splendor
the surface of the sea paints the flitting reflections on its roiling surface
turning tiny birds into the mirror images of angels
descending from heaven, to greet this misty morning with me.
I ponder jumping off this cliff, as life shall surely never grant such wonder again,
until I hear a voice from over my shoulder, call out, bearing with it the scents
of blood sausage frying, and porridge blended with wildflower honey and blueberries.
My favourite meal, by far. So I take in one more glance, at the slowly rising sun,
turn away from the precipice, listen to the birds call out to me, "Farewell, until tomorrow"
they seem to say. It is moments like this that invigorate the soul, and fill a man
with the desire to live, and persevere, to enjoy one more breakfast with someone
who loves them back with a fervor, that would give the raging sea pause to witness it.
I will whistle if I want to whistle, I do whistle, as I make my way down the treacherous path,
that leads to the warm and welcome bliss, that is a single meal,
on a beautiful late spring morning, with someone who looks forward to seeing you
everyday. Someone who understands love, and commitment far better than I.
Someone like you. Who would kiss me ten times as lovingly, as the droplets of mist.
Just as the sea painted my face like a living canvas,
with the rainbow coloured joyous tears of angels rejoicing.
Someone like me, who deserves far less than life feels is my just share.
I pour the strong scented amber brew, from the *** into my cup, and breath deeply.
The heady aroma of Irish breakfast blend, is like a dose of smelling salts,
waking me from the nights slumbers, reminding me that I am not dreaming,
this misty morning is a true gift, and only a fool would deny the existence of beauty
on a morning such as this.
This is why we toil and strive, mend walls, and patch the roof.
So if we are blessed, we can spend just one such morning, once in this life,
eating food prepared with affection, a strong cup of Twining's,
and the re-energizing aura, of simply being loved.
If there is more than this to life, may I die never knowing it.
For how could heaven ever compare to this morning?


A Burns 2012

Message drew out her Celestial Blade Saber and prepared for The Conflict.
But she felt the energy of Nihilist, and knew she was the strongest warrior she tangled with.
Message spoke to The Alliance Project and said, I’ve never encountered a woman who has basically goddess power.
The Alliance Project said on the watch, Stand down and we’ll get you out of there, this fight isn’t yours.
Nihilist, Tell that loved one of yours good-bye, because this is now your end and doom.
The Alliance Project turned on the Isotrain Mechanism and said, We must rescue Message soon.
Breastplate-Bearer ram their ship, and the Projects will go in and help Message fight.
Message is too good a warrior to lose to this type of power, because we have The Insight.
Message knew that her best chances were at long-range, because up close she would have died.
She touched her Celestial Blade Saber all the way up to the end, to fuel the Acidier flames inside.
She then pulled a button on the handle of the Saber, and fired it as Nihilist charged.
Nihilist kept coming as each missile from the Blade Saber hit its mark.
Nihilist grabbed Message by the waist with her hands and held her up, all the time mocking.
She shouted, No enemy can see me and live, and Message taunted, The Federation is coming, keep talking.
Nihilist pushed on both of Message’s sides, and Message felt her hips and ribs go out of alignment.
She started to black out and wondered if it was wise to get this assignment.
Suddenly Message had an idea, and put the Celestial Blade Saber through’ Nihilist’s foot to the ground.
And used the Death-Touch to **** Nihilist’s leg, so it was lifeless, and Nihilist roared with a raging sound.
Nihilists tried to pull the Blade Saber out but it would not come out, it was attracted to the Death Touch.
Message knew that she did not have time so she had to go to the cockpit because she was in a rush.

She ran to the cockpit, and she saw activity all around the ship as they prepared for the fight.
But Message remembered that on spacecraft like this, the cockpit was to the right.
She entered the cockpit, and used the Death-Touch on both of the pilots.
Message then told The Alliance Project, I will join the Isotrain Mechanism by flying into it.
The Alliance Project responded incredulously, You will crash our ship? Message giggled, You was going to do it first.
She started to fly Vibrate’s spacecraft into the Isotrain Mechanism, but made sure to crash into its side.
That way the Projects could get out and fight, and no one on the Mechanism could have died.
The Celestial Blade Saber suddenly snapped into Message’s hand, and she thought Nihilist is free.
And with all that pent-up energy and anger, she is surely coming after me.
The Covenantial Project said, We are on Vibrate’s ship, and are headed to link up with you.
Suddenly Nihilist burst in and said, Tell me, what would it feel like to see your insides on the outside too.
Message wrestled with Nihilist, and although Nihilist was stronger, Message was skilled in hand combating.
Soon Message was on the floor with Nihilist’s foot on her chest, and Message wondered if this was the end.
Nihilist said, You will die by the blade you used so badly, and pulled out a blade to strike her neck
She ****** down but the blade was stopped short, by the Excalibur of the Templarist Project.

Arthur pushed Nihilist off of Message and they soon began to fight with respective blades anew.
Message was so engrossed with Arthur’s blade skill she forgot she had a mission to do.
Meanwhile the Covenantial Project and the Alliance Project were fighting Achilles, and doing well.
So well that Vibrate was aggravated, and she was holding a scepter and muttering about hell.
Message knew that that scepter was the key to something and she resolved to steal.
So she put the Concealment Garment on a Netherbeast, and turned him into Message to be killed.
Message then kicked him to Vibrate, who utterly disposed of this Netherbeast in disguise.
But as Vibrate was doing so, she momentarily turned her eyes.

Message snatched the scepter out of her moving hands, and suddenly she heard a voice.
It was the words of her father the Legate, who said, You were my one and only choice.
To hold the Dahomeyian Rulership and lead the Federation to victory,
This power is now yours, and you wield the Dahomeyian Kingfather Scepter.
Vibrate knew with horror that the scepter was out of her hands.
And was now in the reach of someone who was purposed to command.
Message said to Vibrate, This is your end, you will die here on this ship.
Your reign of terror across the universe is over, because of what I grip.
Message and Vibrate charged, and soon much blood was shed.
But Vibrate saw to her horror that all of it was hers, and that she had bled.
Suddenly Message pushed the Kingfather Scepter into Vibrate’s chest.
Her chest collapsed into her backbone, and she fell dead and lifeless.
Achilles looked up and said, Mother! as he sank to one knee in respect.
The Alliance Project said grimly, You’ll join her, and he put the Abyss Sword between shoulder and neck.
The Alliance Project then held up Achilles and screamed, This **** was made by this face!
This was the weak spot of anyone, The Alliance Project pushed Achilles off the ship into space.
Message took the Kingfather Scepter and roared, Where is Nihilist, I have unfinished business.
A Netherbeast was speaking to Nihilist from afar and said, It is better to retreat than die in this.
Nihilist went into a Beacon Pod that detached from the cockpit, after warding off Arthur’s blow.
She could not believe that someone so righteous could be so strong, so she knew she had to go.
Nihilist said, I will take the place of Vibrate, and Achilles only wanted to conquer a kingdom not there.
Then all will know the name of Nihilist, and when people hear it, they will tremble with The Fear!

Deep in sadness and  regret, I take my place upon this battlefield, tarnished with the blood of so many fallen soldiers
Bothered still by the sight of the innocence on the faces of those that have fallen before me
I stand in dire regret of this terrible path so often we choose, so often we take,
I look upon those faces of the farmers, the fathers, the sons and daughters, that have fallen
All of us who will give our life for liberty,  for freedom's sake

Etched deep within me is the dread of what this day may bring, the fears I must face
The anguish that wells deep within me, and the sorrows of this day before me
What must I do today to preserve my life and the life of those that fall victim to the horrors of the hate we carry within us, the evil that man can do, also the fear I will instill in those I meet in battle today
And so I wonder
Who will fall prey within the sights of this weapon I carry
Who will be the first to fall before me, to die by the evil within my hand

That very thought brings me not even close to dreams, for the dreams
Go farther still with each passing day, and longer in their coming with the passing of those that follow
Nightmares in the making take their place, bring me closer to that one I would call enemy
To that farmer,  the father, sons and daughters of my enemy, those I will face in battle today
Nightmares to make me stronger, help me forget the evil I must do
The fears I must face
The haunting sickness that drives me on into the night to face the nightmares of my dreams

The waking of a new day  finds me still within this nightmare ever drawn to this place of death
Ever vigilant in my quest to defend my country, my honor, my life
Trained to do what must be done, forbidden to show compassion to those enemies buried deep
Within the hatred of my mind
No mercy, do not hesitate, bring quick to the shoulder my weapon of choice, the evil to do my bidding
Take the life of the one who stands in anger before me, notice not the fear upon his face

And for me
Face not the fear within me, show no mercy, show no tears, be quick and true in my aim
Be sure that no one makes it past my path
As I stand in wondering why, what brought us to this evil within us
What keeps us here, so deep in the sorrow of the pain we bring

Who will fall before me, Who will be my first
In that instant I see movement in the distance, I gaze upon the shadow of this enemy mine
And quick I am to react to his sighting, ready I am to take his life
And yet I stand in wonder of who he is
Is he farmer, is he father, son or daughter, is he also lover of freedom same as  I

Barely the sound reaches me, as the pain bares grimace  upon my face
Slowly I fall prey to the agony and pain of this terror of death
I rest to the ground but a moment as I feel the warmth of the life blood easing from my wound

Wounded deeply I feel, as I notice the shadow of the one who took this toll upon me
Closer he comes
Proud he must surely be, as I realize that soon I will see the victory upon his face, Soon I will see the hatred we share etched within his eyes and embedded deep within his heart,  he comes ever nearer to me
And in my amazement and wonder' why do I see a face of sorrow before me, why does he shake so

Why the tears falling down his cheeks, why the sadness at what his has done
Gently he takes me into his arms of comfort, cradles me yet closer to him
Regret deep within him at what he's done

Ashamed I am at what I forced him to
Bitter I am, that I fell prey to the hatred within me
To the hatred within us all
Sorrowful I am of its hold upon me
Saddened at the evil I have done

Just then
As darkness comes slowly to my eyes his words fall meaning upon my ear
Please forgive me what I have done, please forgive me, is all I hear
As his hand takes hold to my wound to slow the life force fading from me
Please forgive me for my fear
His words echo deep within my heart
As I wonder again, what brought us to this place of shame
Where now is the anger that came so easily, the hatred, and the fear
Replaced I feel by the shame deep within my soul
For what I did to this gentle man before me

Sadness at what I forced him to
Gladdened not by the toll I put upon his soul
Time moves slowly, faintly I fall within the darkness of light fading

At that very moment darkness takes me total to its power
The faintest Heavenly light touches me, and the pain is gone, the fear is remiss
The tears fade gently from my face As the burden of shame is lifted from me

And in a silent whisper
I form the words of forgiveness upon my lips
As this soldier brushes away the tears of shame from his face
Just then his smile of relief takes hold

As the Hand of Heaven reaches for me, it brushes gently the shoulder
Of the soldier at my side

Forgiveness comes to those who ask
As forgiveness will brush away the wounds upon the soul
And as my final breath whispers past my lips

Forgiveness leads me home

I don't need a daisy
to tell me
he doesn't love me,
each sharp pick of a petal
of my skin
gives me a new answer
as he throws the ripped white
rubble of my body
over his shoulder
until I am nothing but a yellow core
full of the recipe for the
sweetest honey
you'll ever taste

If only you knew
The poems I wrote about you
Every gaze left unrequited
Every time you rustled the leaves in this garden
And I had to turn myself invisible
Because I could not let myself love you
Because I knew you'd never love me back
Not in the way I wanted you to

Fall comes and I hurt
Sights of couples stacked on benches in parks
Even the leaves collide more consciously than ever
But here I am still
Pinning for a touch

Here I am sitting in your car
Watching the windscreen wipers go left and right on this rainy Sunday afternoon
If only you knew
How oppugnant my mind was too

Even the trees dance
Even the trees dance?
Even the trees dance!
I warned myself not to get into this trance
Even on the nights you wrap your arm around my shoulder when I'm hardly myself I know
Nothing warm is gold
And it will not stay

Even when you brought me away from the fangs of the safari
Even on the dusks you've saved me I know
All you do is tie
And cut
And tie
And cut
Our strings
And how well I played the fool to all your tricks

But you will never know
You will never know
Like the tattoos on your back that you will never read
Like the airs I feign that you will never breathe
Because you will never
See the way I look at you
When you turn the other cheek
With your eyes on someone else

I wish I was different so that you could learn to love me

Just words hanging in the air now
A comical portrait of self-destruction when I look back at the words I've written
So necessary
Fringing on insanity
Harping on a monster without wings

Still I had the last laugh when I
Played the fool to play you now these
Scratch marks mar the charms of your tattoos

But you'll never see them just as how you'll never see the ink I bled for you

what are you thinking
at this very moment
.........
no really
..........
.........
.......
..
.
I wanted to know....

I can tell you anything
ok no I can't
something keeps me
from treating you like I treat my best friend
don't get me wrong
you're my best friend
but not like that
I would do absolutely anything in the world
for the best friend who knows me

I know I know
the same goes for you
but there are times
when I feel you tug up on the zipper
so I close it tight
sensing it just wouldn't be right
to spill

I want to
just throw it all at you
but your responses confuse me
throw me way off the track
you don't laugh you don't grin
and I know
I'm overflowing with sunny demeanor
into your half empty bowl

You said yourself you aren't happy
not long ago
and I let my oceans flow
while you said
more unimaginables
into my stained shoulder
from the back as you
let me walk out the door
carving canyons
on the way to my car
you were confident then
and I stood--a drained puddle

Do you know
that I think of you
every sun as it rises
every coffee and lunch
every blink every sneeze
every moon as it shines

the summer brings out
my pensive nature
and I want to explore
people's mouths
dip n dots
little bursts of tasteful
words and creation
it happens all the time
but especially in the summer
when my thoughts are the only thing
that could turn cold

They freeze often
too much to thaw
back to body temperature
while I shiver
I always think about glass

and how you put it between you lips
and breathe
how the jungle in your closet
paves the way to the bank
so you can spend less time
in the Subway
I feel sick to my heart
knowing you know
that I hate it

it wouldn't be that way
if it were nothing
but I see it in my sleep
brush it off my skin
wash it in my hair
taste it in my mouth
we both know
its something

I want to marry you
well
not right now
whoa that came out
kinda fast
don't run away I didn't mean it
but actually
[I did]
[I do?]
wait
did you hear me?
oh nothing

See I watch all my friends
twirl in true love
and I am truly in love
but I can't
twirl
if you don't move
with me

hey
what are you thinking
just say it
anything
that chair looks uncomfortable why do we chew gum today I had tea
I work too much my knees hurt I sit too much I hate bees
anything
anything
I love you too and I'm more than a motion I feel and think I feel and think and, well. what was I saying?
anything
anything


what are you thinking
don't hold back
I'm here and I want you
I want you to be my best friend
the one you aren't yet
........
you can tell me
..............
..............
I'm listening
...........
............
.............
........
....
.
okay

Sculpted by the wind-
bent back and
black,
sprouted high
planted on a curving road.
Sea on the shoulder
beat back with
conifer on the left
twisted and gnarled,
I’ve seen it sculpted in
faces.

There are people
sculpted by the wind.
Who drive slow-
who harbor a sorrow
in a blonde slick back
stream of high ravine-
like a maze
I’d give my life to be
lost in,
practicing refrain-
walking a practiced
gait-
because oh the intensity!
of being
sculpted by the wind.

Happened to me on a street corner
on either a late night or an early morning.
It took a wallet full of cider, a charity of spirits,
a shared packet of ****** and the smell of glue.
Not the cheap stuff, the glue for models,
and they look alright, right? right man?

The night left me outside my head, with my thoughts,
I had a handful of anti-headaches.
We nearly bled out last time we admitted all our mistakes,
my friend, who always ends a night with a head
on my shoulder, snotting up my collar,
hiccuping up frag grenades,
**** and apologies.