0630

I saw on this morn
the clouds...
they were bursting with orange,
bleeding with reds,
singing a chorus
inside my head.
On this morn I saw too,
the purpled sky
that once was blue.
The sun was cradled
by the misty morning billows,
its sky is the heavens
as it laid on its pillows.
That sky being my heaven too
serenades my approach
as I walk into
the waves of an ocean
so far and wide spread,
never ending miles,
none ever said.

None ever being said
my friend.
On this morning I could
die a happy woman.

Glimpse into Personal Oblivion.

With these confines,
comes the challenge of a lifetime.
Who knew taking the last few
breathless steps might lead
me to paradise.

OR at least to a new path
on which I must step.
But stepping had become
less easy, with every
rich milestones. And
for my body to face
adversity,
its indignant opposition
was unsatisfactory.

So what dwells in me?
Nothing less than there was before,
nothing new for my memory to store.
So where does the displacement return to?
When the bow of my soul
heave to sway of the darker storms
of my ego.

There would be no place
for my hope to go.
Optimism is a fire
which demands constant tending,
and my despair a wound
which needs constant mending.

When I cross the
threshold to my own
deliberate path,
words of discouragement
will be the one thing I lack.

I want to take myself aback,
and expose my apprehensiveness
as an elusive virus,
with no real substance.
So the cure can come in due time,
only faster.

I ask thee, God,
to illuminate the darkness of doubt,
which eats my conscience,
and unhinges my conviction.
And turn the wine of disparity,
into water of delight.

Dreams for T.A.P.S/TATOO pt. II

The clock chimes, it's time again,
to speak the day in words my friend.
The girls gather round
and colorful letters from home abound.
The mothers, brothers, and aunts;
they write
words of comfort,
to the girl's delight.

These ample dreams the stretch from home,
make us all feel less alone;
make our food taste so much better,
give us hope with every letter.

Dreams are flying home in moonlight,
they make port, unraveling the bights.
And with little disdain for the drudge of days,
our hearts become stronger in so many ways.

So dream your dreams from ship to shore,
believe in something so much more.
Life becomes more than less,
something better than a fucking test.

The Great Run

You better get out of my way now,
or I'll roll right over you.

Lips pursed.
This is my day.
Calves stretched,
this is the way.
Rushing ahead of time,
is nightmarishly enlivening.
Every molecule participates.
This is my day, dear.
Two legs forward,
rolling steam machine.
Built to endure,
built to withstand.
This is the way.
Hold Fast,
with one leg in front of the other.

Forward at a double-time! March!