I know of a world with magic in the air
Flights of fantasy and the most enchanted sea
I'll take you there
Show you the forests of the fair
All you have to do is follow me

The oceans will take your breath away
Mer scales glimmer as they shed in currents
Dive down in the bay
And mind the seaspray
And you can catch one if you make sure to hurry

Deep in caves, dragons meet our eye
Guarding hoards of gold and jewels
But they leave to fly
Throughout their own wide open sky
And that's when you disrupt their accrual

Higher in mountains, gryphons make their lives
Wingspans like whirlwinds: mighty and wide
But diets on which they thrive
Can't keep them forever alive
So take a talon which'll never again glide

Mer scale, talon and stolen gem
I like these souvenirs so far
And when I look at them
Checking over again and again
We can make a potion of stars

But there are a few more ingredients
We need to brew our magic
I'm a potion genius
And also a bit of a deviant
Who cares if this gets a bit tragic?

tight spaces
make me dizzy
tight spaces
with many people
will make me die

trains are okay
trains with lots of people
give me panic attacks more times than not
the fact
that i'm trapped
in a moving vehecle
with no means of getting down
until the next stop
which probably isn't my stop anyway
just *****

tight spaces
make me dizzy
but when you hug me tight
it's quite the opposite
it's like i want to live
in the small space between your hands and your chest
in a train full of people
i don't mind feeling the heat your body emits
amongts a hundred other people's which i don't particularly care for

you make the me dizzy
but the kind of dizzy
that makes me feel good
and safe
i don't like tight spaces
but i don't mind being in your room
about two of your wingspans in length
as long as you're right next to me
you make the panic attacks go away
please don't go away

tiny wrists made up of clothespins

sharp hips made up of awkward wingspans

held my smile like a knife made up of coffee stained teeth

walked me home like a dance with the broken sidewalk
kissed my scared hands with a scarred mouth

Moths—they are nearly all comprised of the same tender characteristics: empty colors that've somehow been ****** away like the nectar they digest, fuzzy abdomens that crumble within the softest pinch, and powder encrusted wingspans that fray with countless beatings from the wind. I have come to recognize that there are people like Her who dwindle within themselves among all of us, unheard; enthralled by color that doesn't exist to the naked eye, but rather to an imaginative mind and a battered soul. She is The Moth Girl and she, too is the epitome of simpler things. With Her fair skin and enchanting, grey eyes that **** you in with a single glance; lips so chapped and brittle that they're nearly as drained of pigment as the rest of her. I've decided that She is the reason oblivion hasn't doomed us all and obliterated our world to dust. I've imagined Her as oblivion itself, annihilating other galaxies and collecting the discolored soot from each explosion to sift it over the wings of every moth that has ever been criticized. With this, I have concluded that every moth must be a victim.
⠀
But, if given the chance, would they transfigure?
⠀
I've undergone the thrill of witnessing these moths revolutionize into harlequin humming birds that thrive at Her will. Wings that were once littered with dust are now far too rapid and swift for manifestation. The Moth Girl — She remains a flower of a woman, though now She is sprouting with petals that burst with color; filled with nectar sweeter than She. They are all rich with vibrancy.
⠀
With it, they have concluded that it's not much different being evocative.
⠀
After everything, I have decided that they were blooming with color all along, and it was the rest of us that simply couldn't see it.

it is not butterflies you placed in my tummy,
but large ferocious birds,
with wingspans fluttering against the inners of my
lungs,
beaks prodding my intestine,  
their necks snarling with my esophagus.
their caws pulsate in and out my pores,
and these birds want to fly, fly, fly
towards you.
but i bite with anxious molars, and their blood tastes like
cranberries.
choking up red soaked feathers,
i wonder if you have birds
too.

I have covered the mirror
With notes and quotes

Painted the white walls
With acrylic and oils

Washed my spotless car
Repeatedly

Aired my apartment
Completely

I have written words
On wingspans

Carved phrases
Into his hands

Burned candles
Down to nothing

And left lights on
To hear the buzzing

I eyed my reflection
As I swore:

"I do not love him
Anymore"

I preach a sermon unheard of those herding
Filling the ever-expanding sky with a lesson worth learning
But willful do the people of the ground need to be
To pluck the thread of true happiness and glee
To bend the frame of minds, and alter the realm of their own time

Many collapse their own airways in fear of other frequencies interfering
But can we not see our voice is the only bearing in this mechanical clockwork we're fearing

Humble voices worth applauding hide behind the voices
Passive to all, in procrastination they fall
The reality of loss can only sober one briefly
Till we return to binge on our shallow lives so deeply

A predecessor forgotten imbues nothing but doubt
And all confidence you had will soon disperse
If you don't take a look at who you are and converse
Comparisons unneeded, will only leave you wrought
Your inner-being forever saught

A flock will the sapien always be rooted to
Wingspans of all lenghts suited
Every flight pattern a breeze transcended
Only in this will you find that you grew
Only in this will you find that you flew

Shafts of courage depicted on the
      parchment of hope
Running into beamlight of victory
Leaning towards trunk of optimism
You speak courage
You emit courage
Protruding ribs of scalped stood
      on wingspans of surgery
At the hours of the night.

Spring of courage flown into the
      feeders of victory.
Spirit of courage locked-up
      scroll of fear.
Sun of courage dried up the
      stagnant sea of fear.

An entanglement of two wars
     fought with two divine axes
      of courage.
But you conquered fear.
Sneezing out the mucus of death
      from the nostrils of conquest,
Zooming like an eagle soaring into
      the waiting arms of the theatre.

Clipping the fangs of scalped with
      hope.
Withstanding the chilled cold of the
      night.
Resisting assault from the proboscis
      of mosquitoes.

Waiting for days in hours.
Tarried for result outside the fragile
      womb of life and hope
Tarried for positivity in anxiety
Pendulum of anxiety thickened the
      darkness of fear
But you whizzed back like a matador
      from the ordeal of a long journey
      of life.

A second Lazarus revoked the decree
      of death.

Butterflies? Ha!
I feel dragons with wingspans of fifty feet
Racing through my entire body

Caught in a blizzardlike
Blaze of feathers; tickled
Beyond hysteria.
Cheeks strained from smiles
Wide as wingspans of
Windborne
Angels.

Chin sore from gaping
Laughter, heart from racing
Rollercoasterly.
Each step a leap.
Each breath a moan.
Each second grounded,
An eon in flight.

All the drugs in the world
In an IV bag the
Size of a city, tapped to
My soul's veins

Would only bring me
Down from this.

It is morning.
I get to awake.

Chest pains
Burning like
Forest
Fires

Spreading to
Tree limbs
Or
Wingspans

The body
Is an easy thing
To burn down,
Grandfather

These tiny
Sparks
Are heightened
Scares

There is
No possible way
To put out
The flames

And I am
Not ready
To gather
The ashes

I am an eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight

In a sky without the light
Incapable to be free

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
It's living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears

A gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the night

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection
Infinitely

I am fish/sparrow
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see...

No end to the ends

Sunrise and free.

i give a **** / Roman salute every night,
each night, just before i fall asleep,
but the words recurrent with the
ghostly gladiators captivating western
society like a terrorist are: BUT, YOU, MADE ME!
your pithy apathy can get you
so along - IT'S GOOD TO BE CRITICAL
OF AMERICA AND FEEL AMBIVALENT
OF SAUDI ARABIA...
                           cocktails in Bucharest
are like cooler-shakers in McDonald's:
all fruity flavoured fairies with -
wingspans of pigeons at Trafalgar Sq. -
cos' we pecked those pistachios like mad.
Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil, und Jude außen Europa:
inviting Muslims undermined European culture
excluding Jews made it all the more simpler
for the once cultured press to write hopes rather
than facts. the emperor came, the emperor went,
lost, forgotten, shamed the love for a neighbour.

I am an eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight
Incapable to be free
In a sky without the light

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
Its once living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears;

A gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the night.

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection.
Aloft.
Infinitely.

“I am fish/sparrow”
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see.
No end to the ends…

Sunrise and free.

We worry.
We wonder why.
We wake, we wait, we work
We worry.

We whine wuthering
Whispers, wavering, wasted,
Wishing while wishing
Wanting while wanting,
Wondering why.

We work well,
Well, we work,
While wizardly weaving
Wispy wavelengths,
Weedy wasps of
Wanton whimsy,
Wired well within.

We will warmongers
Without wonder
Who wreak
Widespread waste,
Welcome Wasteland,
Washing with war the
Wounded World.

We will war
War wills we
We wage war
With weird weapons.
We wrestle with will.
Why?

We wait whole
Weekdays, weekends. A
Ways away, the waning
Winter winds of men's
Wisdom's wavering.

Withering winks from
Wistful women,
Widening wingspans,
Wads of we, we,
Wandering westwards
Where suns wane,
Wait out wear of weather ,
Wondering why.

Warm waters will wash us,
We will wake up well.

How can you explain something you've never done?
How can you explain the experience of flying in the belly of a giant, metal bird?

Their wingspans the length of a train-cart, their engines the size of your mom's car.
Holding many passengers within its safe, metallic walls,
being up so high in the air at about 40,000 feet.

How can you explain flying in the belly of a giant, metal bird?
Being so high in the air, you cross the tracks of another metallic bird who was up just a few more feet than you,
sandwiched between where there's no existence of clouds, and where the clouds begin.

Kind of how you are when you sleep.
Sandwiched between the thin sheet and the thick comforter, keeping your body secure from the cold.
Then being swallowed by the white, delicate, fluff *****.

Leaving only you, the clouds, the bright blue sky, the sun, the people.
Now you can experience the feeling of what it's like to soar in the giant, metallic belly of the bird you're flying in.

Traveler.


I am the Eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight
Incapable to be free
In a sky without the Light

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
Its once living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears;

I am the gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the darkest night.

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh;
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection.
Beyond
Infinitely.

“I am fish/sparrow”
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see.
No end to the ends…

Sunrise and free.

I am the Eagle with wingspans
Of impossible delights
Who argues with it it's flight
Incapable to be free
In a sky without the Light.

I am now a ghost
Here reading poetry
Its once living years:
A breeze through eyes
Filled with tears;

I am the gargoyle pacifying all fears
Past the darkest night.

This is a wish, a kiss, deep
A hopeful sigh;
Hands bound, fingers clenched
For Love to deliver me
From here/now
To a place called perfection.
Beyond
Infinitum.

“I am fish/sparrow”
Swimming in the in-between
Looking to always see.
No end to the ends…

Sunrise and free.

wingspans near six feet
largest birds in our gardens
wading blue herons