Petty Delusions

Over night disappointed I am and prone to hallucinations
Of things that already could fulfill broken expectations
But thank you mind for portraying that most pleasant of surprise
I guess it's better than nothing seeing it with my third eye

The shallow end of life is seen everyday
A peak into my subconcious all want some say
Truth is just perception so perception of ourselves
Should be what we truly love regardless of the bells

Thrown into confusion cuddled by a ghost
Kissed by lips of pure folklore and caressed down by the coast
But wake up in my bed I do
Used by one, named for two

It's scary to know I prefer the dark
The deep end full of sharks
The things my mind could conjure up
Could kill me before I wake up

But on the off chance that my dreams are sweet
On my pillow my head will keep
To hold a hand and kiss a cheek
And love a love to which no one can cling

(dec25) time

[also deleted for now for hopeful publishing purposes]

Earth

Walking along the road one day
A doe emerged from the trees to say
"Hello!" though I thought it quite queer
So I simply asked, "what are you doing here?"

To warn you of the sky
And waves you see
They can't be controlled
Even by me

So I'll pray to the Gods
Of mercy at be
That you're a kind fellow
To have grace on thee

Then a stone rose
From the ground
Proving a mountain
I was in surround

The bird's followed
My ascent
Sang their song
My company kept

A caterpillar crawled
Down near my foot
On my shoulder he went
Far from my boot

The clouds formed
Shapes and brilliant colors
While the stars
Connected dots of folklores and brothers

Then when the top
I finally reached
I looked at the land
And serene beach

Then the first fellow I saw
Spoke with great power and drawl
"What took so long
To reach such great heights"

"The journey was pleasant
There was no need for flight"

Whatever the matter
He handed me this
A spear and flame
"Next time travel with haste"

"But these books
Have told me
To wait and stop
To see the beauty made by God"

The man replied
With hate in his lungs
"Fight and take what you need
To build a world better than He"

I frowned at the man
Not knowing what to speak
I'd built tools of teak
And listened to bird's beak

They all came from
What was already there
Why make more
When what I need is right here

Humble I'll be
Grateful I am
That no hatred
Resides in this heart of man

Pride is not something for me
It steals and kills and makes the sea
Swallow you whole
Because what you keep

Is bitter and resent
There are trees but you build a tent

Make it harder you have
To live and love
In this earth we share
When God's already given us
The ground and air
The birds and bees
'Cause all we need
Is peace and love
So let it be

Sun Beams Endlessly - Winter's Warm Together, Time's Worn Alone

roofs hold the night sky
for those holed inside,
held in light

blue hues begin to end and then
views condense to dew
green lights its room
and mine, too

ethereal, ephemeral, a musing fume
light hits white and refracts into blue

trees alight and divide, delighted to be
up on lit horizon, shadowing me

coalescing kaleidoscopes climb into sky
shimmering into time

pale pastel restorations refrain
set on sun-filter frames, sent to old age
incessant, iridescent, a spectrum descendant
outside wind and rain is inside time's brain

its secrets unwind in wind
an ancestral spectral enveloped again
a spectrum echoing itself in
memories thread symmetry at their ends

a thousand stars and one constellation-
a thousand loves and one consolation-
a thousand songs and one singer-
a thousand dreams and one believer-

moments enamored, in amber to us
one to begin, one to rust, and
one to know two
sides to the moon

webs of sun ebb on frames unstrung
stars write the songs unsung
proving themselves, young sons
skies open up in illumination of:

     draw back the crescent cataract
     arrest the sun while it stacks
     in the window cracks, the diademed lilac,
     don't think back
     what's known, what's forgotten is
     once known, once forgotten

     thread the memories into symmetry
     in the silhouette's dream
     the sky and the sea, mist surrounding
     your bright quiet gift's mystery

folded mountain roads hold stories once told
of twilit countenance, the solemness of old
worded worlds are wonder unfurled,
two become one to know

some give time to find it
idled as towns build by and by
while the sun sits in eyes
and sets time aside
beaming endlessly in remembering dreams
comes forgetfulness of in between
diadem winds warmth into breeze
the embers of December are blowing

some die into night
vying unto light
mirrors of sky
densely dilating time
a self's silhouette cast in a net of white
God's jewelry eyes

to turn fate and run,
stop, look, and listen: ...

     glass [stanza admitted
     for hopeful publishing
     purposes and formatted
     as such as this - - - - ]

my pen loses ink, i fall back to sleep, i forget my dreams
and when i wake, it sometimes takes reminding
that this is still finding

time folds its molds again
children returning their givens
and then it's finished
holding life eventually
is sleeping infinitely
affinity
wish you were with me, one-once something
was

i wish i was here, my friend
i leave outside ends
easing ending memories into symmetry
snug as a bug on the tip of God's thumb

-

this is still unfinished but tis time to post again anyway!

It's All Mirages

See the breeze
Chase the flowers
Knowing not, to me,
What bothers

Use these words
You've just found them
Like sacred knowledge
From a garden forgotten

But trust me
This isn't the first time
The fruit has chosen
Another apple for your eye

Enlightened as Aristotle
And Socrates
But take this gift
Not with ease

For but a child
Your mind is thinking
You will do things
Like oil leaking

A bi-polar ship
You seem to be
With great power
So avoid the green

Watch where you spill out
Be wary who you give
Your love, which may be
Better, by someone else, received

With repetition you will find
Better placed, should be, your time
As smoke and mirrors dissipate and clear
Being seen a fool you cannot fear

We've all been blind
And seen these mountains
Trust me Dear,
It's all mirages.

Leaves

We're all falling like leaves on tree branches in fall,
In the wind we're all blowing, looking for peace above all,
Crunched down by feet some large some small,
Sticking in cracks and crevices, in entropy and sprawl,

Drifting

You're just a pretty face for me to put in my wallet,
Nestled among the money that I could never love,
One of the things I look at from time to time,
When the clouds hide the stars up above,

Jesus said, "they know not what they do".
We're all drifting at sea, without reason or rhyme,
And it's oh so hard to care about you,
But I still pretend to... is that such a crime?

Late-night Organ Donor

I entered. The night finally began.

The sounds of lust and jewels

banged against my eardrums.

Fancy light shows made the dark

seem fun and the array of sexual

scents only aroused.

Along with my cigarettes, 

I was inhaled into the night.

My eyes finished adjusting.

I prowled.

Her sensual presence robed

them. She wrapped herself

 in shameless silks.

Her impious body appealed

more than the usual glance we shared,

in early morning art class.

No more Picasso or

Mona Lisa. All I pictured now

was Lisa moaning.

I saw her friend. I looked

around, they where everywhere.

I was one of them. A late-night organ donor.

On the night we played

with spirits in hands, to our anthems 

sinfully.

My Blue Shirt

My tears soaked

my blue shirt

the day my mother moved.

Away far away

to a place where pesos

turn to dollars.

For a better life.

I recall hearing over and over

I did not understand my single mother.

The adults in the room sat

and talked, while I dangerously,

screamed and sobbed.

Like an animal I trampled

back and forth

barking no, please no.

With their calm faces

they tried to tame me.

Throbbing eyes, gnashed teeth I say no.

But promises where made about

some return. That before I knew it

I would wreck into her arms, again.

Quickly. My solemn peace was robbed

by my own thoughts that

inevitably finished me off.

How long until she left?

No matter how hard I tried

the damned question entered my mind.

I did not want to find out but

like the pain in my cavity

I had to relive myself and ask.

When?

The word slid

of my tongue and crashed

through my teeth.

Tonight…

The word shot

through my ears

and rattled my soul.

My tears soaked

my blue shirt

the day my mother moved. 

The Spindle's Demise

As the kitchen swirls

around, and the restaurant packs in

nothing is stable, nothing

is tact. Only commotion.

Although ,one thing seems

to remain calm. No matter

how busy or slow, it never

looses composure.

The spindle. Home and Grave

of all tickets. With its firm base,

piercing tip; The possibilities

never seem to let me be, but

it understands its job.

Stab it. The spindle doesn’t

mind. It stands ready

on a Friday night

rush, the blood will

from his eyes; He should

of tipped me.

Oh the spindle’s demise

in my thoughts (maybe yours).

But for now though, the spindle

and I keep to our own. Until I

loose it, grab it, and use it.

Fine

We were 16 some even 15,

only a handful had cars.

Being at the school wasn’t fun

That’s why we would leave to just go, sit and park

outside of cool places only

like fast-food joints and parks.

Some would smoke

like they had something to prove

while others talked

about what their dad disapproved of.

No one listened to anyone or anything

but music.

Everyone’s problems where

anything but interesting and amusing.

All the girls liked

to kiss and tell,

especially while the pastor’s

sermon (that week) was all about hell.

Many wore clothes

with those same designs.

I still have that bird flying

around in my mind.

We’d, always had to  

leave to make it back in time though.

Or else,

the teachers would find the reason for

our absent time.

Now imagine if I had told my mom

all of this when I got home and she ‘d

ask the usual question

“How was school today?”

instead of just saying “fine”.