the shores of freedom’s water

Let breath become the ocean

each inhalation I do see

the shores of freedom’s water

are washing over me,

and with each exhalation

the ocean starts to breathe

I open my eyes gently

to gaze upon the sea.

With all stones cast

With all stones cast

There’s a pot still boiling

And a kettle left black

There’s a house still standing

With thinly cracked glass

There’s a kink in the line

With a reel still intact

There’s a spell in the ether

Waiting to be cast

With all stones thrown

There’s a hole full of flesh

There’s a crack in the arrow

There’s an angry protest

Each body a story, color, and time

Each arrow head sharpened, pristine, and divine

Each voice becomes voiceless, estranged, and unkind

With all stones turned

There lies not a soul

The truth is but squalor

Results are annulled

In a garden of daisies

Rest youthful and old

A graveyard of rubble

for silver and gold?

In the house I keep

In the house I keep each wall shall be

A coloring book for poetry

Where colors burst in harmony

Where war and peace succumb to paint.

In the house I keep each window sill

Shall only bear the daylight spill

Where succulents hang with free will

Where laughter’s never faint.

In the house I keep each lock will turn

With open ended thoughts to churn

Where no one line deserves to burn

Where honesty is quaint.

But when fear knocks in the house I keep

There will be no reason for which to weep

My hands dipped well within relief

Each wall we’ll finger paint.

In the house I keep my only wish

To deserve and serve this simple dish

Where forks and knives grow strong and rich

Where no wall goes untouched.

Calm is the passing storm

Calm is the passing storm

from shelter’s mouth I view

Winds that whip the wrestling sea

from shelter’s mouth anew

Are waves which roar like lion’s breath

from shelter’s mouth I coo

How calm it seems the passing storm

from shelter’s mouth I view—a dinghy

in the water struggling, it’s a sailor

so uncouth—a sailor I once knew.

the air of my ancestors

I fill my lungs

with the air of my ancestors

knowing my purpose

is their peace.

Rain Shower Souls

What happened to that rain shower soul?

The sun’s still shining but where did it go?

And all those sidewalk chalk talking dreams

came loose like a button torn at the seams.

What happened to that day dream tune?

The song’s still playing but how bout you?

And all those streetlight coffee shop blues

aligned like the sun eclipsed by the moon.

Did it help to regret all that came too soon?

Like skipped rocks reflect rippled waters in June?

Cause that honey was sweet so I tasted it all

aware that no one dear could break this fall.

Did it help to indulge in the depths of the Eve?

If Adam were blind don’t you think he’d still see?

Cause more often than not two stars in the sky

do cross one another in the blink of an eye.

What a trip to be youthful, dramatic and bold

To walk just a block with those rain shower souls

But age without reason can make you quite old

I’ve stitched my last button, when you’re ready I’ll go.

Heaven here on earth.

How curious it is that I

no longer beg or question why

but rather like the naked eye

accepts the sky is blue—

with honesty and strength that I’ve

been granted through these tales of time

woven as one as you are I

accepts the ancient truth,

for like the moon and sun decide

to shed or shield eternal light

with arms spread thin wide opened eye

keep mine closed now to see,

what beauty lies beyond the pine

is neither up to you nor I

it’s always been like time gone by

regardless of the proof—

in truth it’s curious that I

could feel so pure estranged from life

whose meadow in the golden light

is heaven here on earth.

Artistic illusions

Make my bed

Spread the sheets

They are white

They are clean

There’s a nestle of bird

Who sing softly and sweet

There are bills

To be paid

Overdrafts

To be made

But I’m conscious today

Knowing that rot can wait

I have given enough love, I’ve wrestled with the thought

Spared quarters like rain to a cynical saint

I’ve got no time to spare

All this death in the air

Has me feeling quite good, transcendentally great

Forgive me but truth is

Artistic illusions

I’ve no cross to bear climbing trees and it’s clear

That I

start to see past

The sun and moon

The sky opens up

There’s nothing left to do

This closure’s my mantra to you.

Wash my face

Clean my teeth

Knock on wood

Once a week

There’s a pub inn Philly

Where I dug my own grave

Comb the depths

Of your hair

Try and act

Like you care

I’ve been watching your play

Mixing tonic with pain

You have given enough love, so much work to be done

Put your suitcases down, for a while and remain

Like a park bench in autumn

Or leaves that have fallen

I’ve got proof there’s a cure, you just gotta find yours

Forgive me but truth is

Artistic illusions

It’s a tale to be told, when you’re young and your bold

And now I’ve

Got to go back

To the way I was before

And now you’ve

Got to go back

To the way you were before

This closure’s my mantra to you.

it’s ok to feel blue too.

I think I’d rather not

I mean ok

Let me walk a block

Get my thoughts straight

Try and help out

Make you feel great

If this was high school

Basket case.

I think I’d like that

I mean no don’t

If you bite back

I could go home

Take my shoes off

Draw a warm bath

Some use a toaster

Here I’ll right back.

Got a new job

Got a new face

Got some new friends

To help replace

No that ain’t right

I mean ok

It’s a bad trip

Depends what you take.

Is that a sick joke

Or the new wave

Is that a cut throat

Or a switchblade

Is this real life

Or a showcase

No one can hurt you

Just be brave.

Had a dog once

His name was courage

He could sense pain

Like a surgeon

One day I woke up

He had broken

His chain and ran off

But that’s the breaks kid.

See the sunshine

And the bus stop

See the shadows

And the rooftops

Even your grumpy

Great grandpa

Smiles sometimes

Don’t last long.

So if you feel bad

Just know I like you

If you feel sad

I’ll feel sad too

We’ll sing a singalong

In a sad room

Kid it’s ok

To feel blue too.