she's never
known a man
that could walk
on water before.

'come on in,' he said
the water's fine,'
as he wades farther
and farther out into
a tided pool of nothingness.

'i'd rather stub my toe
against something sticky like a
starfish-
then feel nothingness
with you.'

she's never
known a man
that could
walk on water
before.

do you

There was a mother of goat
She had three kinder
She ordered them in hardness matter
"Don't ever and ever open the door under

Any raison
Even one says she is your mother
Wants to tell or has an order"
They all agreed and she went for work
There was a stranger

Passed by the neighbor
He was the greed bear
He said to himself in whisper
As he heard the kinder playing at higher

Voice reflecting their cheer
,"these must be fat
I will eat and lost my hunger"
He watched the home three days with great hear
He heard the mother telling that order
After the mother went, he went there

He knocked the door
When one answered in clear
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The first believe that

The first forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger
He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned

She found them had decreased
When she was learnt
She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered

When she went, the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"

The second believe that
The second forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger

He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned
She found them had decreased
When she asked

She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered
When she went the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked

He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The third did not believe that
He ordered him to stretch his hand

The bear forget the difference between his hand
And the shape of the goat's hand
The small goat said,"
Wait to get your hand kissed"

He got a rope that was a strong
And tided his with the stable rod
The small kid called all neighbor
While the bear screamed, mercy asked

His mother was attended
The bear was so hurt
The mother stroke his trunk
The swollen kinder were out

They were so sorry
They apologized to their omission
They said," we learnt a lesson
We will not forget forever"
Obey your mother

Obey your father
They knew more, more
They have more experience
And know which intelligence is

And which is carrying the worse

Where once the waters of your face
Spun to my screws, your dry ghost blows,
The dead turns up its eye;
Where once the mermen through your ice
Pushed up their hair, the dry wind steers
Through salt and root and roe.

Where once your green knots sank their splice
Into the tided cord, there goes
The green unraveller,
His scissors oiled, his knife hung loose
To cut the channels at their source
And lay the wet fruits low.

Invisible, your clocking tides
Break on the lovebeds of the weeds;
The **** of love's left dry;
There round about your stones the shades
Of children go who, from their voids,
Cry to the dolphined sea.

Dry as a tomb, your coloured lids
Shall not be latched while magic glides
Sage on the earth and sky;
There shall be corals in your beds
There shall be serpents in your tides,
Till all our sea-faiths die.

Beyond the mountains, the mountains,
beyond over their bumps and hills and small pocket
paths tucked into the seam,
you're sleeping still,
still sleeping;
glass of water on the desk sat upright and uptight
next to a gathering of white sugar, they-will-work pills
that you've taken one of.

Before you woke the window watched
the street below, I joined in and saw
smoke and busses, taxi cab film rushes
uncut and newly coloured for the silver screen
that's too expensive to see.

That morning I tided your clothes in
neat piles and mountain tops
where the summit was socks ready
for you to wear again until you leave me lonely and go home.

I once held stars in my lungs but I burnt them all out with cigarettes
as I tried to rid your name from my lips

I had the moon on the tip of my tongue when I whispered love in twilight affection
But that **** tided heart of yours shifted again and now all that hangs in my mouth are evasive words and the sickening taste of the seas' breeze.

That garden you grew in my stomach died when your sunlight no longer reached my skin
The butterflies you gave me shriveled with it.

The ***** I choke down doesn't rid me of those memories
Every night I spent with you was a threat to abandon my morals;
Go back on your word and cut the sky from my veins.
You kissed every cloud from my wrist to my sundered ankles.

You once traced constellations on my chest and with a single breath they shown brighter
They too burnt out when your words were no longer for me and I hurt even a little more

The ones etched in my swallowed pulse cried as they spiraled from our little piece of the galaxy
I watched them go lonely and lost when they traveled south into my pity-shaken excuse of a soul.

When I smiled and you'd look away.
It haunted me until I stopped sleeping
It was at that moment I had realized I fell for you like Icarus had the sun.

You burnt me and I melted until there was nothing left.
I was reckless with pride as you fed me slanted promises
I'll put good use to the knife you left in my spine

My throat burns more with every drink,
This liquor can't rinse my soul the way I'd like you to
But I'd rather remember you as my favorite sorrow than the love who left this fruitless heart.

Storm clouds raged across the sky and the silver sea boiled in the wind.
The great green fin of La Isla de Tiburon cut the water,
Mysterious, so painfully close, yet dangerously distant.
Monsters swam the gap and past waist deep the ocean had a lethal tug.

All morning we (father, big brother, little sister, and me) hunted in the sand for clams and later boiled them in a sardine can.
Dad ran along the shoreline and into the waves wearing yellow trunks, hunting with a sharpened stick.
Dad, the Wildman —hairy and shirtless—ran for our entertainment into the surf and whooped when a skate flapped pitifully at the end of his spear.
My brother kicked a trio of *****, fishermen's gifts, kept them from scuttling back into sea, and leaped over them for fun.

Sardines on saltines tided us over as the main course—crab, clam and skate—cooked on burning drift wood.
We children watched in drooling anticipation as a claw, wreathed in flame rose in agonized supplication
then collapsed back into embers to cook.  Froth bubbled out alien mouths and black stalk eyes.
Roasted alive seems an awful fate, but, oh, how delicious the meat!

Later, by lantern light my sister read her book over the protests of a gathering wind that scratched at our tent all night.
The sand spat out the tent stakes, but the poles held firm and our weight held our shelter down.
Never before and never again
I live here in my dreams.

Have you ever tided upon tsunamis?
Indeed, these giant brooms clean everything in its wake.
This is the only time you are glad to have resisted
transforming someone into poetry,
as the waves sweep ink and paper off your desk.
They kissed the shores too passionately this time around.

Have you ever fuelled a fire in the woods?
Eyes burning brighter than old flames.
Exchanging breaths of smoke and dust,
and feeding what has already been strangled dry
To red and orange and blue tongues.

Have you ever triggered an avalanche?
It's a ride that gets faster and faster and faster.
The world spins around you,
And you still hear your echoes
Albeit in the end,
it still is all white and
nothing else.

Have you ever clapped alongside thunderstorms?
Fight poison with poison, they say.
So I shouted your name,
and the storms are singing along.
Up till now,
I still wonder if you could build homes
out of ruins.

Have you ever stood in the eye of the hurricane?
There's a weird kind of serenity in that.
As though you could halt the whirlwind and the cold and its monstrous roar in their tracks
With your bare hands,
and place them where they ought to be.

Have you ever buried yourself in the epicentre of earthquakes?
The earth spins on its axis;
your consciousness hinges on your emotions.
Hold on to the loose gravel around you-
it's the closest you can get to
the warmth of someone safe.
The debris destroys both you and the haven.

Have you ever counted flames, cinders and lava that leaves a crater?
An eruption of falling stars;
home is where they return.
There is always a takeaway
from tragedy it seems.

—for Síneánn

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

She was the ****, I was the crystal
addicted to each other the moment
                                              we meet.

But every high has a come down,
                I'm the ***** needle..

She was the spoon, warming up on
               another's sleeve.

Tided tightly ready to overdose on her.

                     She was the chemical bliss
that could  be taken anywhere,  



                                         I thought...
that we were something special.

But I was used,
                      discarded.

I was useless to her, as I was unable
         to pierce the vein..

Used to many times.

So she found another way to find
              a way to make her self higher

than she was with me.

Now I'm in a come down

rehabilitated
                   and I'm struggling.

.
We breathe so lovely,
****** in ******
Waters held so deep
In a body of flesh.

This cave is under,
In pressures of hope
Beneath even air
The sun is knocking.

The babe is tided
To a rope of dreams
Waiting in dull room
Lighted by sheets.

Tiny fingers tower
In the shroud of wetted
Being and eyes see
Blindedly closed.

Now the spirit dries,
Must leave waters hug,
Voices carry beyond,
We trudge into light.

Solution to unalive
Is life naked and crying,
Water breaks and we drown
Into the shut world.

Why do I feel like this what did I do
Is it me ...my past ....or is it you
You'll never understand stand me
How could you.. you don't see

I'll never be relaxed, calm or carefree
because fears and confusion surround me
I'm ok for a while
and I put on a smile

But my worries and stress
Makes me feel worthless and less
How can I explain
Im so tiered and drained

How can I refrain
How can I feel plain
I fight mental battles
And I'm tided down in shackels

From thoughts in my mind
That my peace always finds
It haunts me and taunts me
And my past always finds me

I can't sit still and I battle to breathe
Calm, quiet, peace that's all that I need
My mind won't stop screaming
My tears just keep steaming

I live in my head
While in my heart I'm dead
My soul is in shatters
And my life is a tatters

—for Síneánn

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

— for Síneánn*

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
If only once to find ourselves
Again belonging to the strands
That tided us in beads and wave,
The sea new, aloft and birds moved
As we flew, sailing under cascades,
What breathtaking strides to make
And the sun was dripping and swept
Away to us on the gentle crests breaking
We spoke soft nothings, as to know things
So simple to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely star of day was sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes, so clear,
Shall be the hills of the isle to us, will always
Remain cast with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Strung on a beach so singular, before innocence
And grace, by two ****** lovers aloft in only sky
To be joined, with hands of the long night stars,
Finally reached, by the glass in the running grains
Untouched, ingrained, stained into ocean salt
Always by the seas of joy and given to each
Ever to be moved on the high tune eternal,
In stations of grass and stray wood drifted
Among wings by the slip of tides monumental,
Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage
Old of unrestful sleep, crossed, beyond—
A bridge of sighs.

—for Síneánn

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

—for Síneánn*

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

—for Síneánn

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

Monday only I arrived at the inn
Got a room there ***** and span
I wondered at the place’s awful din
And the joy in welcoming new man!

Till then I had lived in dark gloom
Half awake in a quiet warm stream
In delirious urge to leave the catacomb
Reach the light I had all along dreamt!

Cramped in that alley in somber stupor
Passed months how I didn’t know
Only could sense freedom wasn’t far
Wouldn’t be forever in that burrow!

The kindly innkeeper fed me the best
And wouldn’t take anything for the give
Spent I two days on her breast loveliest
It hurt me when came the time to leave!

On a Wednesday found my new love
Made a nest on a space on this earth
A fairy she was love’s precious trove
She gave me warm home and a hearth!

Can’t tell how passed the days so fast
New travelers coming on our way
Our wishes were ashes hopes were dust
Were left with only faith on Friday!

Have tided on this inn waves low and high
Seeking from the clouds the north star
Live now with memories of the days gone by
Waiting for the Sunday that’s not far!

—for Síneánn*

We drove to a lost, lonely isle,
And where, if only once to find
Ourselves sown again, belonging
Wholly to the keep of faraway strands
That hours tided us in beads and wave,
The nascent sea whispering aloft and birds
Cascading as we flew, to sail under moving
And hoary dunes with stellar eyes of poppies
Wild, such breathtaking strides for we to make
And the sun set dripping and lowly swept ashore
Away to us on breaths of gentle crests breaking,
We spoke sundry nothings, as if to know things
So simple are to be kept wanting nor ever said,
The lonely, dull star of day fell sleepy, dimmed
By sparks, the shimmer to our eyes—

                                                               So clear,
Shall be the hills of the fair isle to us, will always
Remain caste with new lamb and crowned deer,
By thorn and thistle and rimmed with broken shells
Rung on marbled beach, singular, before innocence
And grace, by skip ****** lovers cradled in only sky
To be joined, with the lined hands of long night stars,
Finally reaching in the jeweled glass by the running
Grains polished, a gild castle moat, stained into ocean
Salt, always by the sea of windows glory and joys given
To each, ever to be ****** upon the high tunes eternal,
Beside the stations of grass and drifted heartwoods,
Among wings by the slip of tides, ripped monumental;

Till when we drove away, this time, in a carriage stall
And all the tumbles of sand into eyes crumbled to end,
We drove ourselves back to riven sleep, a stark beyond
The fallen wayfare columns of momentary paths, we cut
Home, trudging through the garden forests and inlet
Bays on serpentine road, always ever to cross—
A bridge of sighs.

Gloom blooms alongside the iceberg
Winter brings an unwanted harvest
We make a stew with our sad and our cabbage
Hoping to be tided over 'til spring

This passes in a blink
Though I think
I'll sleep for most of it
I'll just skip winter this year

Who decided it would be this way?
At what point did our genes develop the script
That said our happiness was dependent on the sun
That the cold would frost our hearts leaving lives stunned

I feel trapped in these months
Has time slowed down?
Or am I counting seconds as hours
Trading mole hills for towers

It would be better with you here, I think,
Though I know not from experience
My winters have always been lonely
I think you'd just disrupt that tradition

Though with contritions head reared
I will still ask for the experiment
Let me take your coat
Our bodies have warmth enough as two

If I close my eyes, I feel the cold dissipating,
Yes, surely it's spring
With a fire in my belly
I feel my heart thawing

Perhaps this season won't be so bad
Perhaps I'm through with stews of sad
Perhaps, just perhaps, I've found a solution
To ebb my wallowing for good

I wanted to visit the Alamo.
I wanted to see the cracked down walls, I wanted to walk where they had walked.
Christmas still vaguely lingered in the air, and they said they would take me there since they hadn't been and history is such a large portion of my interests.
I wanted to visit the Alamo.
I made excuses to not go. "I'm sick" or "I was going to hang out with my sister" or "You live here now, I'll go with you next visit". Somehow those tided them over until my plane ride back home.
I wanted to visit the Alamo.
They knew I had great plans of pictures and acquisition of knowledge and that this trip would only add to those if we had just gotten in the car and driven the hour to go, but I was too scared.
I wanted to visit the Alamo.
But you were too close. And you scared me away.

This is up. This has always been up!

The light, the flicker
Accompanied by buzzing fly,
Tided in a cobweb
A fluorescent tube light.

They said
By their tongues
No, by their souls
They answered by hearts
The message shines
With the bright eyes
Threatens all bones

All castles were downed
All armies are sharp less
All fortress expose
To any attack or small force
No walls, weapons even soldiers

What makes their hearts tided?
What makes their eyes shined?
What makes their souls danced?
Above the earth, air and clouds
What makes their hearts pumped?
Only by their names and souls?
What makes the red color covered their checks?
As they were thrown by the strawberries

What makes their eyes opened?
Even they were tired or wish to sleep
And wanted to be opened all times
To fill its self with the smart face

What makes the birds danced?
What makes them sung at harmonies?
What makes the bloom gotten colors?
Attracting the eyes, dragging with happiness
Reflecting their wishes to live endless

Diving at happiness, sinking at honey
Asking every fly
To imitate their love as their way

The love of bodies has one end
Die
The love of souls stays without any end
eternity

She was the rope around my throat,
never tight but enough to tell me that
that I was the folly of her emotions.

Our love was tided within our restrictions.
But she was always silent between the throws
of our collections, strangling upon another.

I never regretted the actions of the other,
always keeping me in my place,
I know who is the voice of our collusion...

The heart is twisted

Like a dancer did

When one heard

A melody

Telling something important

Showing the heart interesting

In hearing a talent

Story

A bout deathless love

Giving and sacrifice

As the heart may advise

To share your love

In inner heart without fear

That is not enough

Giving a dream

In rosy

Your eyes are opening

They are not closing

Or even doing

As the lover near

By your side

Telling a proud

That is found

By meeting

By eye

There are no eyes

As many are tided

Room four eyes

Those are showing

Into one is observing

Into one I known

Heart and eye

Whose eye?

The two lovers saying

They are swearing

That belongs

Mine

They are true

The love must do

Tie them and go

In the race of life

The feeling is appeared

In lips when they say

When they smile in way

Of shiny

There may be some fault

Or saying wrong

But they return in fast

Saying in frank

Sorry

The mind know

The heart go

In green valley

To share the rosy

And dancing with fly

Around the world

Telling the talent

The love is important

If it is clear

Ending, no beginning

With holy tie

That is only

Marry

When one says

The angels go in ways

Spreading roses in away

To show the smart tie

And slow the time way

To give the love amusing

In tie

The morning will stay

The nights go away

The willing increases

The heart flame appears

Trying to get calmness

By sharing calm of heart

Another and say

That is my desire

That is my love

Who will give

The mean of life

For only

Long way

i draw circle around your heart
you draw circle around my heart

we have tided in one point
aiming to the center of the heart

it is the center of your heart
it is the center of my heart

they are drown on the trunk
reflecting their images upward

telling everyone with every word
being born of the inner heart

your heart
my heart

Francis.


      Soon this empty space,
        this blank parchment,
      will be filled with words
    that came from the ether,

       just as tided gifts from
     the Atlantic, whose shells
          alerted St.Brendan
          to a new existence.

      From Inis Torc, a braille
       island, blinded by mist,
       lost to an inhospitable
    history; a hopeful horizon.

       West of west, to follow
     the golden furnace which
    sank each day and boiled
the sea to a tempestuous fury,

     but simmered to a calm by
       the mariners star in the
      still of night. Salt of those
   last waves are in your earth.

today i felt like i was drowning for the first time
i always thought I’ve felt like this before
but i really feel it now
i feel like i’m at the bottom of the ocean
with cinderblocks tided to my ankles
i feel
i feel everything
i’m full of emotions from today, yesterday and the day before
how do i release without forgetting
why don’t i want to forget at all?
today i feel like i am drowning
and everyone is watching and they don’t know
when i feel overwhelming emotions i just wait for them to go away
for them to silence
i never ask them to leave
i usually just pray
i’m not really religious but i just hope someones listening who wants to take away my pain
i don’t know the source of it
i wonder if tomorrow ill float

With compass and map in hand - I asked
Would I be capable of such adventure?
To bathe that much deeper with you
Into those unexplored places
The risk and virtue
Of these unknown waters

I feel,
That much closer within this nature,
There,
Locked, rooted, favoured to no longer swim alone.
Tided by ourselves, with each other
I am fashioned, drawn in paint brush
To the peaks of desire,

And yet,
You still remain as a beacon of hope.
We traverse this life together
Transcend the trials, the tribulations
That are always set against us
Plunging deeper into the lake
To cleanse my spirit; weaving with yours

Finally we begin to dance here,
You and I
The sirens remain our long lost callers,
Where I decide once again
To wash myself
In your ancient waters

No matter how many roads I must tread
I would end up right back where I started
Winding through moments or memories
By longing or creative design,
I find myself here,
In your divine tapestry