The Stream

Pit brown, eddies like molasses

Trout, their underbellies speckled

with mottled brown marks swim

inside a subterranean world

Ceaseless the water runs

Never the same pattern

As in life the moment passes

and can never be lived again.

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Dear Universe,

Why did you give me a flower so beautiful,

then make me watch its petals fall?

Why did you gift me a single seedling,

but forbid me from watering it?

Why did you lead me to the purest of water,

yet poison it with your toxins?

You chuckle to youself

as I try to overcome it,

overpower it,

out determine it,

all the while knowing

deep within the ...

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In the hammock

On days of tomatoes

Cheese and bread

When light breezes

Make the orchard leaves

Chuckle and quiver

With gossip from the mountains

When a head of dead wine

Falls in step

With the mood

Rather than being a weight

On your ankle

There is time to marvel

At the power of stillness

And the way that calm

Can be the raison d'êtr...

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Why is it that when I'm surrounded by the most people, 

I feel the most alone?

That when I think of the billions of other 

living,

breathing

humans,

I feel a pit in my stomach,

swallowing me up from the inside, 

overpowering me with all-consuming darkness. 

How can a single grain of sand 

feel remembered,

when it looks the same 

as billions of others?

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I tell you

I'll love you no matter what.

I don't care what they think, 

fuck their approval. 

And yet I find myself, 

crawling back.

Plagued with naive hope,

self-loathing weakness. 

A bird plucking its own feathers

one by one. 

Until all that's left

is an ugly mangled mass, 

defeated by its own destruction. 

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Hello, said the tree.

Thank you for planting me.

I think I’m going to like it here.

I love trees, said the little boy.

And I love you.

You are a special tree.

All trees are special, said the sapling.

I will always be here

Watching over you and your children’s children.

How long can you stay here? How old will you get?

Will you live for ever and ever?

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Pieris

The color yellow looks different when I look through your eyes,

As if the fields are made of emeralds decorated in butterflies,

And then I see pollen fly and descend to the wind’s singing

And embed themselves into beds’ sheets’ linen.

The coursing of dance mimics a river current

And I involuntarily admire your freckles and the rose of your cheeks like they’re sunbu...

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(resubmitted on account of probs with audio)

Magnification

     Solemnities hero be already dead -
for she never lived, was never there,
     Her favoured plunge had already
swanned to fantasy where meeting
minds were no longer chaste, nor
wanting loins expressing lions dare.

     The citadels of spite remained as
peoples strewn in tatters – navigate an open
h...

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With every year's end - the advent marks the start of a new day,
as human kind we’re always growing wiser, furthermore, fully face to face with the task of taking baby steps toward a straight forward path —
It’s time to take a stand…
(With that being said: we really need to enjoy such a joyous occasion)
In an effort to boost morale; International Women’s Day should pronounce a two part holiday...

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I would never question your narrative— as it be, figuratively.

Cheers to another year: it’s ever clear — our glasses never get drunk.

(for all intents and purposes) spirited twin flames pour out libations to a personal god
No half truths with you.
I idolize your third eyes outlook on life...
Our inner visions - seen to fruition - showcase infinite possibilities
Granted we share the same ...

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                           For once I didn’t open my eyes

                           And flick on the screen

Scan the news, designed to make me scream.

Posts and pictures of people “seizing the day”

Each not so subtly saying

“Look at me look at me”

Instead…

                 I poured coffee

                 With my first cigarette in hand

And looked at something ...

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