My Sinography
touching the rock bottom of the sea let me now see how the bottom kicks me,my

There on the golden sands of my beach
I could only see my feet, if I looked down
Nothing stretched out forward of me
I have been held in the grips of now.

No matter what my imagination could see.
I was without a doubt, held in my same now.
Then I looked to my right side, then my left.
There stretching out in my now, were my friends

Poets, writers, all people I know, and many before
They seemed to be there walking with me
I looked behind me and there were so many
All those I had met, talked to, or walked with.

As I strolled in forest deep today
the worn trail I'd chosen to follow
abruptly split itself three ways
just where the ridge dropped to a hollow.
I uncapped canteen and took a swallow.

The way which forked off to my right
led to a flood plain down below
where thickets kept the ground from sight
save where a stream near stopped its flow.
A beaver pond had made it so.

[He said]

Let me
feel essence
of your poem

[She whispered]

Wade with
me through
these wild flowers

[Together]

They smelled
caressed
her maiden poem

[When she blushed]

It felt
like wild bursts
of poppy seeds

Moving up
on the escalator
climbing the steep stairs
the same way I did ten years ago,
I feel the same burning sensation in my muscles.

It’s certain to be cancer,
or something I ate,
perhaps the undigested bile
of someone I hate

Mostly it’s the Nazi gnome
his domain his practice
he assumes godlike power
by the hour
demeanour sour.
He treats you like a slacker liar
but I’ve got better things to take
than his unearned ire.

I’m gonna get the prick,
I know where he parks his wheeled penis
slashed tyres and a brake fluid paint job
may just make him consider this

Don’t fuck with me.

The skies are blue
when the sun descends,
the trees are green
and the birds dwell.
all plants smile gladly
when the breeze visits,
for its a joyful day
a call for a feast.

An hour of conceiving is blessed,
the day of birth is marked.
Amongst your mates just smile,
with your siblings give a smile.
When friends and loved ones
celebrates you.
For parents and members
are bold and proud.

Darkness...
Until I make out the shadows
by the light of a candle.

The wick, it wears thin.
Flickering schemes on the wall.

Disillusioned by the glow,
and I lose myself once more.

I see the truth.
I know it.
But I allow this fusing wax
to slowly drip
onto my polluted soul.

It burns....

occluding me with transparent lies.
The lies that I see through
and I deem myself to believe.

You say you have a vision
but you treat life like a fiction,
imagining trophies in your grasp
when your life is loaded with crap.

The car's engine is running
but no motivation to start moving
and then you complain
when you don't make the change.

If you live only in dreamland,
then you embrace denial,
how can you rise like a man
and see your own potential?

I refuse to say it's wrong to dream
but surely you must know
dreams will never be real
if action is just a no-show.

Sing no dirges when I'm gone
loss isn't how I've lived my life
so do anything but grieve
for passing won't result in strife.

Think of me, if you're inclined,
and picture me when in my prime
long before the years began to bind
and built up on me like rusty rime.

Or next time you are in a wood
close your eyes and listen close
to how the forest doesn't brood.
I'll be near where some small stream flows.