Ah, it's you again.

Palm lines trace footsteps in my
desert Hands that are wrinkles of
Yesteryear's anxiety grips my Slumber

Mute without Breathing normally
formally known as Comfort...
Baked goods, aka Mother
(faker) aka Mirror

Smiles back through the
window pain when i frown
lines travel down the corners of my
mouth opens to draw words from the
Well, I guess we all feel the same

Extinct

Floated iridescent water bubbles
That scent the room with euphonic
Heartbeats
Dripping upon the glare of Forgotten
I've forgotten

The seven plagues of woe
That veiled the frivolous sun
Until meltdown in the Nuclear sky
Pierced through the dragon's Eye

A magnificent swoop into the ebbing
Horizon,
That maroon slice
Percolating through the ragged cleft
of Canyon cliffs to the deserted valley

Where the droplets digress
Contort and effervesce
in a miasma of
Ecliptic repose

And meanwhile I will figure skate
on the frozen ocean Cusp
And taste its ruby wine mirage
In a crystal serenity From dawn
Until Dusk

Decree Nisi

plenty the time abides in youth and flight
her obsolescent entity reveals its human blight
in a composition he will never comprehend,
With every another

try as he might, this libertine trend
disguised as a knight, designed to offend
with never such matters so strikingly trite,
She comes to discover.

and boorish these steps, and foolish this spite
the masquerade they dance in the lucid moonlight, she
laments. to no bitter end, for the loss of a best friend,
Her former lover.

Through the artist's eyes

Walking on the pavement would
arouse my soul
breathe me, open me
to the universal edge of vitality

The asphalt oppressor, as one could
believe it to be
concrete, defeat
of the living foliage underneath

Is unfortunate

As sitting inside a room does
not confine one
but meditate, illuminate
the inner ambience to imagine and create

For wingful freedom in thought
and belief
allow us to surely avow
The beauty that lies in serenity profound

If we could just finally perceive
that those which
oppress, may as well bless
As cement and walls are our canvasses

Our very license
to bleed and express