Clipped

When he takes my hand,
i remember we're not meant to fly,
astound or rewind (our) clockwork orange;

the world was already on its knees,
dull with marionette lies,
gypsy jigs pounding coins on pavement,
only half alive, from who knows where.

the sky was snuck a forgery,
with moons coaxed from paste;
mercy disbanded and blank contracts
filled with something else.

I hug him and keep wishing,
I cut a little piece of reflection
Gently where it frayed from Night;
My eyes sting with salt.

Perhaps the moonlight would not fall,
Swell into its etched tattoo-
That changing mask upon the sea-
If we would just give it all away.

Paradise

Lovers do not choose
Which springs should fall as memories,
Which hold summer so close
to their chill shawls,
Seasons sneak by in a matter of days.

Sheets of rain may wrap the world
So deeply in a cocoon, all things tied
to an endless metamorphosis;
Every moment is suspended.

Sunlight may cascade, just the same-
New wanderers made of us-
Entwined in pastels, or saturated
with everything under the sky.

Whatever it should be,
We find ourselves drawn together.

The World and I

I have lived my life many a time,
Spun years and years upon a day.
I have seen the joy I wished to see,
Yet all alone, these memories sway.

I have seen a sunset a hundred ways,
In varying degrees, every sky does yield.
Upon the see, these stories went,
And seldom missed a storm to field.

I have loved my loves, unwrote goodbyes,
Gave reason to myth not true.
Am I to expect an answer
For the things I did not do?

Artist

A saint of all silent souls,
the most content gentleman is.
Gloved words trailed in incense
Upon the altar of hopes;
He placed a sacrifice long ago.

Now, his eyes hold a candle,
Drops of fragrant spring unlit, waiting
To be let out, then kept
In thin porcelain for another day.

Thus, his heart is tucked, sowed
In all of the trails he strolled-
New treasure maps, libations
To shatter young girls' dreams.

Spoken word

A world began, not long ago,
Bound by rope, which burned too slow,
Lit by fire, blood and soul, but
Fell upon a peace (not whole),

As they wore and as they went,
Marked by words marked heaven sent,
Love thy master, in Earth and sky,
Love not thy freedom, thy wings to fly,

Live thy life, unto the soil.
For amazing grace you toil.
He can't beat you, as you sing,
You'll see mercy, come your spring.

First, the luck, and then the right,
As all men should,
To bear the plight
In a world with sorrow and greed
To find his plae and his good deed.

A long time coming, a long way gone,
Came the voice, the dream, the dawn.
A renaissance, a movement, a cause to bear
For the future, hope sowed there.

Hope, in voices unbound by chains,
Be they gold, platinum, or iron remains,
The voice of reason, a song to rise,
Not caged by anger, or false compromise.

Lessons learned, with lessons come,
Setbacks, fools, ignorance, and then some
Languish in the chains long cast,
Not knowing, not knowing time has past.

Hope, understanding, knowledge to rise,
Wars, panic, opportunity in disguise.
Dreams, ideals, open hearts overcome
These things that bind us,
To light we succumb.

Progress

The sheer manner strives
to dance through life
but gray would find a way-
a tiptoe through the fairy tale,
sheer blindness, in that fray.

black becomes a miracle,
The ghost upon the dawn:
Peel it back, discard the stain
that sunset sits upon.

Scrape away the dark old spring,
Every root, every lost scent,
Drown the hands in myths of green,
The brown, all graves' descent.

should it live (As it may)
as left upon the right,
Set the people to its side
And let them see the light.

Tigress

Dazzling purple eyes, pinned
(Dreamt the tiger, spied in the clear)
With gold relief, diamond rimmed
Glory (his nature failed).

More and more, it seemed,
Her song of chained pauses sprung
A trap for his night, diluted
The bruise upon the day.

Her emptiness told him all
Amid the wind, unto the sea
As she broke sheets of pleated surf
From the midnight sand:
He would never go back.