Variations of a dream

Trek along you wily dream

to the explore of another path

traversing the many varied

for never looking back,

you move as no ones breath

taking each a grain of salt

converging all the while

and breaking it all apart,

steady among the amidst

perchance a play to convey

briskly across the gentle ice

into the colors of disarray.

The cry of soundless

Do you know these longing lyrics

dancing to many a grave

licking the love of candy

sweetness from the stave,

settling over faux and field

heads buried within a web

seeking for sweet freedoms fly

in the moments coming dread.

Breaking Saints

Stormy she was across my skies

weeping gently in windy rains

her eyes all clouded a muffled sigh

over losses and empty gains,

the road is far too long

and the footing is at the least

cupping gently the worn of light

holding bay the headed beast,

clawing bushes and biting trees

each one a twisted cry

lashing at my wanderings

my struggles of laborious try,

but the colors and array of sounds

the enticing of the fray

a marvel to behold

where hearts lean in to stray,

and again the bitter battle pangs

this narrow through the maze

endure is weighted by the mete

heavy soul in glories pace.


But sadness unrelenting

tugs upon the soul

bringing all incendiary

hardened as a coal,

my tears all dry before they fall

the flames they burn so brightly

blinding me down a wider path

carnival of the unsightly,

and to my sturdy wayward steps

I move a twain the depths

knowing for to give my life

would carry endless wepts.

Degrees of reckoning

The journey are the steps we take

not as two feet walking

but traversing a dreamlike state

random gestures thoughtless talking,

Oh dear soul where have I gone

the valleys are empty soil

the darkness sits in waiting

to slither from its coil,

my steps unearthly wanting

moving to a higher ground

past the cries for me myself

beyond the brashy crowd.

Wretched creek

What is it I search to seek

always on the prowl

wanting ever more to eat

an inner hungry growl,

weeping into places unknown

no rhyme or even exception

an overflowing gilded pot

digressing its destination,

softly footing the padded woods

engulfing all its forest

waters babble along the way

inquire the lonely tourist.

Contemplative perspective

Lonely woes of windy cries

where footing is sure to loose

oceans carry for longing roads

bitter voices in howling ruse,

and sit myself among the rocks

heavy as the weight of days

counting out the watery stars

a moments breath among the maze,

where tenderness is a cheeky meek

and love leans forlorn abreast

my mind in constant continuum

fighting itself among the rest.