If you can

If you can,

like the beautiful
yesterday never was.
Or like the steel and blue
stormy tomorrow
is long

If you can



He found out he could fly.
High enough to lift the anvils that
He held dearly.
Long enough for his heart to taste the birds.

And he fell.

Hard enough to break his normal.
Shattered enough to be free.
Low enough to swim through his tears.

The euphoria of his jump.

Cyclones and Fires

The wildfire grows
into a true and beautiful candle.
and my breath is scented with pleasure
as my coal sits, stacked on my lap.
The dancing fourth night tosses some (into the fire)
These sparkles are the glow of (my) life.

The cyclone storms through my elbow pit.
Wiggling my arm till my feet fall slave to its run.
The run; I enjoy, lingers till forever.
The cyclone grows into a gentle breeze.
Lifting light foliage to rest as
pristine wreaths on my head.
and with a kiss, sets it
forever in my heart.

Burn bright!
My beautiful wildfire

Run far!
My beautiful cyclone

Futility in effort

The futile
effort to patch
a bleeding fractured
heart with the cords
of company, and the strings
that run from laughs through drama,
only bemuses amusement.

Some are [even]
flavoured by the sweet
pamper and the passionate
cuddling of their

By some,
I mean the
[lonely] heart.

Rapids and calm

Let me numb this flowing river.
These raging rapids will not let me
lie with sleep.

I am [I know]
a crumpled brown leaf; stiff.
The bobbling excitement of these
white waters are not my

Thicken its flow.
Let it meet the open waters
or the vine filled delta.
Where the hug of tree stumps
and the locks of monsters
break its race.

There, eyes leaning on parades
of teeth; the crocodile preys. There,
the expanse of the dragon fly
startles the damp cold air.
There the unabated chirp
of the emboldened bird
travels for miles.

Let me find it here.
This water there is calm.