hollowed we suffer

a blackened pyre
under the setting sun
where no light touches
the dark undone

we could hold hands
and wait out the plight
forever gazing
into a starless night

we could hold our breath
until the sky creeps clear
and wait for our deaths
as the shadows draw near

or we could drown in the sea
and smile under waves
as the urchins come near
to dig us our graves

so embrace me now
my princess of time
for the troubles in tow
to relieve us our minds

the way the knife sheds the skin
and the blade flays the flesh
our troubles have yet to begin
to put our suffering to rest

follow me now
to the end of the day
into the empty depths
that guide us our way

and we can laugh once more
over the troubles endured
and give us our grace
when our deaths are ensured

seashore

All of what the sea churns
forth and the breakers
bring turning with the
waves
           and the trying
           momentum
laps up the shore
         surging under the
   big blue sky_
                The heavens
                know
with what reckless abandon
we urge the surf
to expose ourselves
                      of the salt_
And the crime is never
   knowing the purpose
       of the tides_

the meaning

the most bizarre thing about life
is living it.
all the mysteries unfold in countless
riddles that twist the tongue.
the baggage, the expense,
the opinionated truths,
twisted this way and that
in a confusing mass
of individual realities,
binding up the secrets,
caught at the tip of your tongue.
the lessons come and go,
new pieces to the puzzle
that never seems to end.
so many people playing make believe,
trying to pretend that there is a single way.
how many like to believe that there is
someone out there with all the answers
to make our lives come together
in the way we have always hoped
it would?
so many judgments passed.
so many wrong answers.
so many troubled minds
trying to account for
what is sane,
for what is right,
for what is true.
there is earth beneath our feet.
there is wind at our skin.
there is water to nourish.
and
there is fire to burn it all away.
we have the trees,
the mountains,
the streams,
the lakes,
the creatures.
but nothing exists
unless there is something there
to experience it.
and that is the most bizarre thing
about life.

we are the nightmare

when we've complicated
the past,
and the future becomes
a mass of ripe color,
dripping with what has
already been done
to death,
and there is no rest,
no meaning,
or make
to the vibrancy
of life,
and the mistakes
are as golden
as the truths
we stand idle upon,
the end will
be as welcomed
as the flames
that swept us away
from our original cause.

the meaning
becomes as lost
as the truths we sought
like ghosts
drifting
in dense fog,
fluttering about
on our route
through the tender moments
of life gone awry,
and the sky is nothing more
than a prison
wrought with reason
and the treason
of our luscious love
broken in the twilight hours
as we devour
the subtle lies
that tie us to the fabric
of consciousness
where righteousness
was but a dream of a madman
hopped up on the cancers
    of the fallen.

so solemn and forlorn
when we're born
unto this
in the mist of desire
only to retire to the deep,
fluttering falsehood
from which we're torn.

cry against
the big city lights,
craving the night
where the creatures fight
and fuss
over the loss of trust,
and we're the very demons
that scare the hell out of us.

your monetary measure

i see you there.
i know all about you, man.
i know you don't care,
and in that lies the plan.

you see us as money,
a means to an end:
little people
with small minds,
outside of a culture
you try to defend.

once our usefulness
             has expired,
so do we-
     nothing more than numbers
on a piece of paper
to make your bank accounts thicker.

and our shallow lives
must seem so grave
to people of your order
like pissing down the grate
and into the sewer.

but you know what, brother?
we're better than you
in so many ways.
we don't measure our lives
by the passing of days
and the percentage of interest rates.

we live and breathe,
love and laugh,
and we're in possession
of the kind of soul
you will never have.

what does your heart say?

under the moon
           and
                 stars
we are
           all
      searching
for the same thing
we want
                for
                        love
          and
   compassion,
a sense of respect
and a common
                understanding
we want to accomplish
to thrive
               to live in the way
that best suits us
                  without undue
           hate and bigotry
without misery and ill judgment
we want to be wanted
and we want it
                 without ulterior motive
      in this
we are one species
differing only
in complexion
                     and culture
so when you here buzz words
                 like
                      'immigrant'
         'homosexual'
   'vagrant'
                      'illegal'
            'poor'
                         'mentally ill'
            they are simple words
    meant to divide
to keep us
                       from realizing
that we are truly One
   with the heartbeat of the
Cosmos
drifting casually
while trying to find meaning
in this
we are all just a single
                    heartbeat away
from the amazing
         listen
        to
      the
    beat
   of
 your
heart

we witness for time

the light always
drowns
in the darkness
and the darkness
only gives way
    for the light
so is the day
 so is the night

single feathers
fall from flight
and the wing
always flees
       from sight

a child's laugh
becomes
a cackle
        in time
and an old man's
eyes
forget to shine

the terrible witness
wakes at dawn
   and soon
the innocence
has all but gone

breathe a sigh
for the blanket
  of time
           concedes
breathe a little sigh
for those
           set free