And how many thoughts on my mind
Papers thrown out in a basket and
How much nonsense exists in a sigh
How primitive is
Man at first rising in the early morning light
Celestine is the color of the sky today
And she smiles at the scent of coffee
Poured in a ceramic brown cup that steams vaporously
Today I am no longer attracted by the
Chasing after of a dream
For those who want it
They can go and get it
Today I am alone with my thoughts
In my silence
I have no worries
I am convinced that life is sincere
That death is accepted
The lovers don´t touch,
final lies freeze their breath,
a brittle, vertical icicle.
Will we ever even speak again, like we used
to, like good friends should? Or will a nose be
turned and no words spoken as we walk back out
of each other’s lives. I sometimes wish I knew,
so that the time I waste wondering is not in vain.
A Painter heard the Poet’s words,
Then took his golden brush,
To paint the world alive again,
Down to the river’s rush.
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.
You say that I’m conceited.
Just because you don’t water your own flowers,
doesn’t mean you get to stomp on mine.
My garden is healthy and strong.
I won’t let you crush what it took me years to grow.
Instead of hurting mine, tend to your own.
Maybe your garden can grow too.
You say that I’m a dreamer,
That my head is too far up in the
clouds to watch where I’m walking.
we cry the same tears
and wash the same pains
but we are not one
and yet here we remain.
I hum, and life is found on a new planet
A melody is created but they only see me walk
They see my curves but not my angles
Give yourself this simple treasure,
“Openness” without a measure.
Wear an open face and keep smiling,
Breathe in the sweet jaunt of their sound;
A moment is a lifetime,
I saunter through a dreamland fantasy
in steamy waters of ecstacy
my heartbeat quickens
my pulse races
In an amber moon your face I see
A sudden rush of pleasure enchants me
as a soft night breeze gently flows
palm trees sway
a free spirit plays
In a midnight dream you call to me
Like a village beacon lit for a celebration,
The mind’s halls are lit up, all by music.
Each note, sustained by that intuitive
Leap of faith, restores doubt with rock-strength
As the virtuoso hand trembles and resonates
On the chords of our innermost essence.
Ignoring anything that’s real
You know there’s a connection
Too busy, insecure of the reflection
The lads would think you’re under whip
Need to inform them if I stay the night
Being honest I can’t say much
Don’t want to be labelled slut
Each of us ponders life’s reason
looking deep within our own soul
We follow each path and season
that vainly we seek to control
A fabric to weave in and out of the one mused most
Enveloped in a theory of strings and mindful news posts
Set up a series of lyrical hosts discovering the deepest cognitive coasts
Visually experiencing the tides of thought in the eyes mind and believing in
Sending messages of safe passage over seas
Weathering storms, disease and all liquid creatures swimming about
Destructive demonstrated dance dialect positioning translation
the fruits of me
the fruit of me
beyond my being
And they were
who they had become;
fractions of me,
addends of we,
divided into wholes