Red life
Blood light
Running down a hill
An ocean tear
A blue tear
Cut in fabric, thread unraveled
Grass sword
Green blade
Shining under fires
Rays of heat scorching
Waking Nature
The morning chased a taxi
As it drove on the no man’s land between night and day
The skylight with a whisper of summer
The snow melted quietly from the trees.
The wintry art of nature
Gave way to the next.
The early ones pushed their heads from under their covers
Under which they had slept many moons.
They greeted their friends
The waking trees
Who were putting on their green clothes.
It was time for celebration
Satyrs and forest maidens
Danced under the tree shadows.
The Waters
Alive are the waters
Alive and well
Rushing through the rafters
Drowning out hell
Steam rises from the waters
Rushing like rapids
Roaring like dragons
Those that sound like thunderstorms
Thundering the waters engrave their way
Through the closed cave they pave
The waters run into the sky
And towards earth they fly
The waters declare freedom
The earth declares life
Beat Soul
In the emptiness I meet
My soul is beat
In the presence of a malicious mind
My death sentence is undersigned
My heart, it lay in cinders
My strength, it is tender
There seems no end to torment
I weep in discontent
Take away my fear and restlessness
Give me a sense of weightlessness
Imbue me with hope, make me brave
Dash my tears into a grave
As I go about my day
Will I ever find a way
To not feel this close to tears
Afraid of the listening ears
That lurk in the walls
And creep in the halls
To do the bidding of one of dark intent
Hiding behind a benevolent pretense
All words, kind or not spoken
Are twisted and turned
Into false words
Into accusations
Into emptiness they become
As they attack all and one
And in that emptiness we meet
My soul is irrevocably beat
Oh make me brave
Dash my tears into a grave!
Quote of the Day: Unsoundness of a Poet’s Mind
“Perhaps no person can be a poet, or can even enjoy poetry, without a certain unsoundness of mind, if anything which gives so much pleasure ought to be called unsoundness.”
Freedom of Choice (Odo)
“It has been my observation that one of the prices of giving people freedom of choice… is that sometimes, they make the wrong choice.”
Riding On A Nightmare
I read in the dark shadows of my home
Raindrops crashing on my window
These novels paint pictures of gilded worlds
Yet the cracks in this urban milieu
They yell me a different story
The nighttime surrounds me like black ceremonial robes
As the city plays chess with my heart
The darkness is in communion with me
As my instincts scream at me in the process
Shall I step in the next access
My poor heart now possess
As I ride on this nightmare
Like a cab ride to hell
