Jete’ Battu (dance of song)

Stepping across the creaks

the floor a song of toes

each grace a wavering moment

of here to there and fro’s,

arms at length

they reach for the tender

a lulling into fallen places

springing forth to there and away

their dancing full of paces,

they move together as strings

making for the song

the song of life and living

holding on, before its gone.

Breath in, breath out

Woe, the day she mourns me so

my little wandering soul

always seeking, never still

as the fish within a bowl,

the nature makes its course

footing for me to trek

lonesome steps across the way

perchance to break the neck,

heavy weighed I make my way

the journey of a thousand miles

years upon years turned over

through grass and bloodied tiles,

weep she does through out the hours

watching my failing flesh

moving steadfast through nowhere

till I meet no time and rest.

The pirates flank

The creaks within the board

moved wet beneath my feet

over anchored heavy waters

splashing death upon the meek,

clean waves heaving flesh

as still as rocks on shore

the pleas for the life to live

smothered out and heard no more,

the last among a desperate crew

who fought to the bitters end

now waiting to my final breath

which I struggle to defend,

but my world it fades to a murky sea

where sounds evade my ears

hands fall limp from clinging

and salt water drowns out my tears.

Hollow talk

Today I’m gonna turn a tail

about monsters from the bed

just when you get warm and comfy

they peek up their bulbous head,

watching you late into the evening

as you mumble toss and turn

wondering how to cook you

soft boiled or slightly burned,

a topic of masterful lore

but one I have known too well

dreamy places that turn your mind

and make your skin a lighter pale,

even now upon awakening

they move and gently sew

within the shades of the closet

or noses against the window.

Sometimes; another time

Just another broken hearted

like falling sands within a glass

perspective through the window

other lovers hand in hand,

to know the flower blooming

seeds falling upon the ground

wilting to the waning day

gently fading without a sound,

but lo, the suffer it does not last

and new sprouts begin to show

pushing from the heavy Earth

new beauty for to grow.

Vagrant ripples

I’m weeping into an endless cup

overflowing with hearts and glass

my mind a torrent of gentle waves

cumbersome totes of a trumpets brass,

the depth is deep, to deep to flee

in shades that color the drowning tones

symphonic lures that tug at me

bending harshly splintering bones,

so alone I cradle and fain to sleep

in hopes to dream a sweeter taste

where light is shining in every corner

burning all signs of damage and waste.

Dusk upon the brow

When the time it comes

where the life is weighed

the moments all tallied

some bright and some fade,

when the world all sits in lie

and people are scattered away

the heart no longer aglow

no joy in the passing parade,

when dreams are just another day

and the mornings are filled with sigh

then the quill is quietly set aside

and one bids the page, goodbye.