Groundless footing

Stop twisting dammit!
You illegitimate thorn
always prickling at the flesh
your kisses a bloody swarm,
you ride me all the day long
everywhere I choose to seek
you point out all the failings
and grin shit from every cheek,
such a tiny little scar you are
that tears with every breadth
wreaking scoffing embellishments
like fish caught in a net,
they scour every piercing view
and wiggle away perspective
nothing new under the sun
new guise but same collective.

The seasons

Flower upon a petaled wall
I see your pretty freckled face
leaning watching busy bees
blue skies filling open space,
your leaves are nowhere to be found
and your moment a skipping heart
when he flutters in your direction
with a hand out to take part,
awkward little moments
precious gifts within our time
fading into background
to the hardships in our prime,
crippling lovely flower
now bent upon the stem
looking to the grassy grave
watching falling diadems.

Tapping out the blind

I stammered across the open flay
and gathered my thoughts awry
standing by the wayward winds
the aerie songs in pitch to fly,
and upon the slated restful tear
arose the open heartfelt clear
of the infinite laying road of sheer
that walks one on to the face of fear,
and here to say I speak no cheer
upon festivities of yesteryear,
for alone we die to the living sneer;
where the coil it sheds to the hearkening.

Mass occur

Depth the cry of tender feel
along the stranded stray
where feet they break on tattered strains
over creaking along the day,
eyes a crash among the waves
where rocks all point and scathe
and here they come the scattered throng
from the deaths that long the way,
yet harmony plays her sweet discord
in the rhythms of falling short
where the memories are all knotted up
taking reap of times cohort.

Damaged repercussion

Little falling Holly
was sitting beneath the rows
of broken tattered faces
all wrung and wrought with foes,
across the seas of happiness
where everyone paints their face
to look as real as real can be
conformity in displace,
these rivers thrash and overflow
in rising weeps and waves
washing the hands of bloody trace
and crippling cracks of broken graves,
yet still the stillness
it clamors through
like the flora of afternoon
seeking desperate the sunny rays
of an end that comes too soon.

Altruism (limited quantities)

The rhythm carries on
with successions into silence
stepping toes a hopping
nails on the bite
facing into knuckles
white teeth shift in movement
on a story for every tongue
till the legs can hold no more
and the weight becomes a tarry
is music fit here to lift the soul
are songs all brought to trodden
where the love is lost in haste
too many hearts on the cuff
not enough anything alone
leaving humanity
to prowl.

The watery depths of hope

Sounds
pervade my sullen scope
to see the scents and views
my little world among the vast
and my very own one man crew,
my sails high and water tight
we course the ravaging sea
ever knowing that what we seek
are the chains of once was free.

Avast, the lands all waver bye
on their course to farther reaches
where once was the love of care
has become the song of leaches,
my sail now is a tattered worn
and my row is low at best
but my soul shines on beyond behest
and my treasure still beats
at the depths of my chest.