Untitled VI wave to all that sees me,
When I am large with zeal or high with muse.
I am good at being mighty;
I am a terror and a dream, relying solely on the exertion of everything.
Even while in the shallowest of graves, I may see you at the surface.
I count on all above me to bring me back to life
Yet somehow in the darkest worlds, I am never lost.
The purity in me has long been sought and found, time after time,
And just as quickly, is taken away.
Yes, time after time.
How I can survive such a total change of substance at every passing moment,
I cannot fathom, but what more allures the world and I, are the reaches of my heart,
And my capability to give life and to take it.
All of which that has never known me lay either in their death,
Or were born to rely on solitude,
But I extend to almost everything.
Yes, almost everything.
I bow to all that sees me,
And ripple myself to sleep for I am small and simple.
I may be fast, but I have been caught,
Time after time,
Untitled IYou rose, you are a coward,
Wilting through the summer like a
Long forgotten balloon.
You Enchant the young with gifts
Of sweetly sick perfumes that suffocate
As your bloom gains burden.
But I, the unrefined,
Stand by you with all of your bruises
And all of your lost petals,
And I gather them in baskets made
With the daggered stalks of your once
Tall and beaming life.
But rose, you gather tears,
As I grip to your fragile figure of fight;
They collect in your closing eyes.
You rose, you now see sorrow,
Though once you stood the symbol of
And in that vase you rest
In a peace that keeps your dreams
As red as you once were
RappelerI am reminded of you in every aspect of Spring.
The season's budding life and your abundant enthusiasm share one soul.
Even the ants know they are like you;
Traveling around to learn and to live.
You want to be friends with all, like wind, picking up everyone's mood;
Picking up those unlucky petals and sending them to my hair.
I am reminded of you when I pet the due off of the grass in the morning.
It shares the crisp youth of you.
It shares the rejuvenation you bring me each time you enter my realm.
When the sun shines more often,
I see that you smile as it does, in happy patterns, never wearing out your stay.
And in the night, when it is still somewhat winter,
You are there in the stillness.
You are there as the flowers blossom over night.
It is a calm that you give me, so that in the morning, when I discover knew things,
I am able to fully experience life.
I am reminded of you as I fly through the trees;
I am the birds that play in your laughter.
You might notice that I am most aliv
Untitled IVNothing I do gets finished until I finish it and that might be never.
I wait, I wait for myself,
Oh how pathetic,
To do the things I need to do.
And the things I want to do? Well those are few and far between these days,
And I do not have the time.
I could be famous now.
I could be dead.
I could be married but I am waiting,
Waiting for myself, which is pathetic.
I really do have the time, but the effort? I forgot how to work, I forgot how to want.
What do I need, anyway? Is that why I cannot finish anything?
I do not know, I do not know, how pathetic.
I am alive and I am able; so very able, but what does that mean?
My bones want to pound the pavement; my skin wants to feel the wind.
My mouth wants to say all it can say, but what if that is not enough?
And if I mess up; spill words, words all over the place?
Well then I will not even try.
Oh but I could be in Russia, I could be flying a plane.
I could be fluent in culture like I had planned.
If I only had the time, had the time, had the