Dream of youI dream of youonly to wake upalone
Chinooka gift from the mountainsin the dead of winter:winds of reprieve. daffodil shoots doomed to freeze
Unblinkinggreen eyes unblinkinggaze back into mine;the hint of a smile
Think Before You Squish"Excuse me," said the spider to the shoe,"Before you stamp, before you stompI have something vital to ask of you:"I know I'm scary, I'm a dreadful sightwith legs that skitter hither and thitherand my many eyes that stare into the night."But tell me, truthfully: am I the worst?Of the things that creep while you're asleepthe stuff of nightmares, those beasts accursed."No, not some imaginary monsters," the spider said,"They live! They're alive!They are real as your nose and the hairs on your head."Am I worse than the mosquito that bites?The bumps that itch when you reach to scratch?I keep him from biting your ear when you sleep at night."Am I worse than the termites that crawl in the woodand eat and eat as if on repeat?If I weren't around? Eat the whole house, they would!"Am I worse than those buzzing black flies?How very rude that they ruin your food!If it weren't for me, you'd be eating maggotberry pies!"Am I worse than the moth that eats your things,All your shirt
Bedtime for MonstersListen, hatchlings, and listen wellTo the story that I shall tellOf the horrors that awaitYoung monsters who do not obeyWhen you don't clean your den at nightOr brush your bristled tail just rightThe Thing that lives above our headsWill come to snatch you from your bedsBony limbs! A toothy mouth!Digits that grasp and waver about!No fur, nor horns, nor jagged beakLies upon this scaleless freakBut I'll tell you of its warning callSo your demise you may forestallAnd live to see another nightWhere mom and dad can ease your frightA light it shines, from meaty paws,It bulges its eyes, unhinges its jaws,And it will screech with voice so shrillYour spines will feel its ghostly chillI hope that you shall never faceThis wretched Thing; so please, make hasteTo do your chores and listen rightLike good little monsters should do each night
Beware, BewareOnce upon a meadow fairthere was a child and sheset off to visit Grand-mamaand keep her companyShe filled her basket full of treatsbut 'fore she went aheadher mother knelt and pulled her closeand this is what she said:(CHORUS)Beware, beware, the monster thereis lurking out of sightBeware, beware, the monster thereand keep your wits arightAnd so she went along her waywithout a fear nor care;when who should she find in her path:a wolf, with hungered glare(CHORUS)"Why child," said he, "where do you goso merry and so bright?""To granny's," said she, "to bring to hersome comfort and delight"(CHORUS)"The meadow road, methinks it isthe longer way aroundGo ye instead into the woodsa short cut shall be found"(CHORUS)So off she went onto the darkand dreary forest pathMeanwhile, the wolf had turned to takethe faster meadow path(CHORUS)The wolf arrived while Grand-mamaknew not the threat withoutHe swiftly lunged upon her throat
shattering glass and stars.some people can't see the stars.it's not blindness that constricts thembut rather the deafness and the ignoranceinside their eyes.and [although they can't hear]the sound of glasseshitting tilesbrings tears to their eyesbecause they wonder if this is what the stars sound likebut the funny thing isall they can see in the night skyare little airplanesthey're mistaking for stars.
Needle of the PineYou're a needle of the pine, my dear -a poking of the spine, a narrow rodto gently prod my heart in waters brine.And when I fall, you pull me tallto bask in heaven's shrine, for what you are'tis not sub-par, my needle of the pine.
Featherstruth is a bird with broken wingspretending it can fly-
and we'll rotoh, poet boy,you are notthumbed bruisesor honey bones& you have onlyever been a godinside of your own head
Soul MatesBetween dream and moon tides,The light weaves a new day.A first glimmer lights the darkness,Where even still a shadow lay.For ages swings a songFrom star guardians into the worldAnd first diamonds glitter,Where luminosity falls on the water.The young morning is still hesitating,Promising us hardly the return.Still the night wraps up the lifeAnd silently breathes the great sea.Then … finally, the golden time calls.Water marries to the light.And shining our heart swaysWhere sunshine breaks through waves.The wind carries my soulOn its wings away from hereTo green valleys, ocean lights,To blue lakes, to you.You are the life, you are the dream.You are my soul and my light.And when the day draws to a close again,I will not forget you.
After CenturiesThe towers hover;they do not budge.But time uncoverswhat is and was.The treasures lost,the jewels unseenwill one day leavetheir quarantine.
Buried memoriesmirror tarnished andskewed under the falling snow,twisted perception
Writing is hardWriting is a constant battleThat doesn't ask for consent Or listen to reason.With broken bodies from failedAttempts at a complete thought,Scattered through a war-tornNotebook.
I Was Not HereI skilfully avoid all of the questionsAbout my fragile state of mindI wonder how anyone could locate meWhen I was never here to findMaybe I only exist in conversationsFilled with the conceit of hindsightBut it’s too late to drop the gun to the tableWith the bullets already in flightI skilfully avoid feelings of happinessIt seems more of an effort to smileA shadow was permanently cast over meJust like the face of a sundialMaybe I only exist as a silhouetteA vague outline that’s lost in timeIs it too late for me to turn away from my woesAnd show my face to the sunshine?
IntensityI dress in broken greyscale,In walls of smoke-charred glass:The paper-lined abysmal veilThat glistens as you pass.I live in boxed enigmas,Counting star-drenched seasUntil the etched out sigma,My breath a sour wheeze.I am the tattered sailboatAmong your wispy words;I dip and fly 'til I can floatBeside your past, lust-lured.My ceiling is a blanketYou wove with mirrored starsAnd set upon me, "take it",And carved my fledgling scars.My body is no canvasBut the artwork that you makeWithin the winds around usAnd the watered earth you break.
Prism BoyLoving prism boyimprisoned in Leaves of Grass.Sprint, grow, transcend – boundtowards a Jupiter dawn:your natural liberty.
duetThe earth is not perfect in its circumference,it wobbles and shudders as it sings,with pitched layers of atmospheric frequenciesand deep molten throbs.Each person makes a noise that drowns out thesound against a tsunami's thunder.Do they ever know the song before it's too late,or go mute long enough to know the words.When you and I are together, we quietly hum inhopes of hearing it in tune, of being a duet in sync.When we can't, we touch; the friction of bodiesbecome tuning forks vibrating with the tides,of bird and beast migrating by the silvery tines ofstars, to the music of our only home.
Awaitaugust,where are you?a graveyard of lies hidesin the creases of his promises –yet she awaits his returnand stares out into the west,with her hands placedupon her chest.the melody of him leavingpenetrates the silence,drowning out the noise andthe reminder of her reliance.he’s engulfed in the freedom,and becoming the sea, (careless, reckless, thoughtless)she would have drownedto be close to him again,the two of them, foreveralways bound.oh august,seabound i stay,waiting for you to returnto meanother day.
Sunseti saw Darkness chasing Light hoping to devour her To dye her sun-tipped feathersinto the dark abyss that was his ownLight was not to go down not without a fight Unleashing fire into the sky painting it orange, red, and pink But Darkness jumpedAnd swallowed her whole then he spat out her glittering bonesthat got caught inside his throat
PathsThe Killer's way is lyingThe Lover's way is truth
Irish-Inspired HaikusGreen chrysanthemumsembellish red coils of hair,welcoming the spring._________________His eyes are dark brown,but they convert to olivewhen the stars ascend._________________The stone never lies;luck shall forever be yours -lest you fall to ash._________________Hear the wind whistlethrough exhausted fields of sheep,and think of my love.
Autumn's clutchessunlight burns the morning mistlukewarm and all aglowrising sun thaws out all that's chillymelting the frost that was barely-theresaturating the colors of autumnthe wind kissing my skin in a chillleaves float around like butterflieshitting the ground with a satisfying crunchthe aroma of cinnamon and applestease my palate and cause me to craveI want to drown in hot mulled cider and get drunk on cold pumpkin aletake me into Autumn's clutchesleave me there and don't you ever fearI'm entrenched with a coat made of fallen oak leavesI am content in the rich, spicy air.
Foolish...You can't undothe damage done-You can't relivethose lonely years-You can't resuscitatesomeone who haslong ago since drowned...And you cannot menda broken heartwith the useof a simple "I'm sorry."
Shadowslong shadows on brick wall —dying whispers ofthe autumn sun