Out of touch

Spend the deepest of days sinking
the darkest of nights thinking
upon blinking planets at towering heights
The world is ours but the moon and stars
remind me that everything we wish to hold and touch
isn’t always in our grips and sights

Like ice in the clutches of summertime heat
I feast upon the urgency of the relief that I breathe

Reading the veins of their movements like palms
Touching only the darkness upon surfaces
to dig up the burning heat of alarm

I am charmed by what I don’t know
by what I can’t hold
by young and old, by the colorful and cold
By everything that I can clearly see
of which I am not told

Grief

Cry tears of glass
until they glimmer into rivers of sorrow
The droplets of misery duly dampen
the paths to our hopes of tomorrow

Within these borrowed breaths
and withering eyes are tears so clearly owned
They are as contagious as outrage collected
in the company of culprits never truly known

Your old friend grief knows a million ways
to find a way into your heart so porous
grabbing you by the hips and dancing through the night
into the grips of heartbreak’s chorus

The silence of suffering scratches upon skin
by the breadths of the fingers of anguish
caressing the tormented into restless sleep
the sounds of our hearts forever languish

Little pleasures

The beautiful whims of wonder take me places
deep within a world bound with infinite spaces
not a penny nor a profit could uncover such inquisition
within these thoughts are the truths of fruitful acquisition

If I dig and burrow for a world of jewels
some may say the gold I find is for fools
This life is rife with rapture and reward
within self is a place to settle our accords

The lessons we seek are unique to what we speak
Satisfactions of thought are triggered by the pleasures we seek
If we are mindful to our needs, we will find vast treasures in kind
Leaving behind trails of happiness and fulfillment in the wakes of our minds

To be true to yourself

Through the jowls of pain emerges light so refined
like eyes sparking power
the flowers of wisdom bloom not in a plain sight defined

The flight of wingless birds knows only of mindful escape
their feathers like claws upon chalkboards of deceit
help them remember who they were before defeats of fate

Predestined are those deemed to loom through spaces between life and dream
trapped endlessly between scenes of invisibility and definition
repetition brings the mundane to replace the trepidation of our intentions supreme

A dried river remembers what it was meant to be from the past
as a barren jungle knows not solely of the present moment
It is our choice to settle for life’s atonement but reminders of existence are omens at last

Purple

If the entire world was ever a color
it would be purple
hanging between the coral of oceans
and upon mountains
a purple mass of differences
blue and red
together
lavender and violets
lilacs and amethyst
Like a bruise
or beautiful sunset
The color of our galaxy

A day in the life

Put me to sleep
under lush swaying trees and the cool breeze of the summers I thieve greedily

Lay me upon lawns
until the blades of grass grow wild around me to grieve within greenery

Let me rest
upon pillows of mud and mounds of madness I no longer wish to perceive too eagerly

Close my eyes
to disguise disease and let me leave longing for the things I believe so easily

 

 

All of our beautiful dreams

What do we know
of the winds that carry gasps of relief
of the breaths we thieve between shifts of grief
The difference between what we want to hold in our palms
and what we wish to achieve in our dreams ?

Sleep through thunder and lightning
Walk between the impossible and frightening
The labors of love know nothing of opinions
The power to wield wisdom
starts within the confines of our own dominion

The artist escapes
But is also discovered
through the pores of their work
The weight of sentences and sketches
cannot hold fair prices upon the scales of their returns

If I stand tall upon the mountains of solitude
It is through pen and paper
that I fly into forever
To build a world of words one must justify the absurd
and still pry their dreams from the grips of surrender

Forests of freedom

The forests of dreams sparkle green
the furious flashes of summer storms
dash trees with drops of liquid so serene

Lay upon these woods the well wishes of warm weather
of flowers and nectar
the birds, the bees, nature in the finest of vectors

Sleep inside the empty fields calling your name
soft whispers for visitors
the grassland filled with the fleeing souls of the city’s prisoners

The freedom of the forest knows little of captivity
the wisdom of the woods
captures the endless strokes of blissful infinity

Decisions, Decisions

Today I decided to make a change to my ways
I slept on my left instead of right
I took smaller morsels instead of bigger bites
I walked away from trouble instead of trying to fight

Today I decided that enough was enough
I called out all of my fears’ bluffs
I trashed all of my unnecessary stuff
I threw in the towel instead of wanting to hang tough

Today I decided that there’s little need to care
I didn’t do anything that I said I would dare
I didn’t shave my beard and I didn’t comb my hair
I looked away from all the strangers that wanted to stare

Today I decided that life was a lie
I didn’t get much even though I tried
I listened to everything and still came out surprised
I realized I’m not stupid and that breath is the only prize

Today I decided that I’ve always been wrong
I hummed the lyrics to my favorite songs
I tried my best to smile and play along
All the while still thinking only I can right my world’s wrongs