The diamond crusted band flashes in the eyes of every man.
The property rights the ring creates enhances his life span.
But what for the woman who does all the cooking donning the ring of gold?
While she's crying and multiplying her love is dying and her soul is sold.

Sing a song sweetheart, a nice mellow tune.
I'm hungry for lunch it is nearly noon.
Dinner was great, did you ovulate?
While it is on my mind dessert would be great.

She dresses herself carefully and makes time to appear the thing.
So that all his friends will understand why she wears his ring.

Four o'clock in the morning
Just another night
the candles are now all blown out
there was another fight

Destruction develops hopefulness
that I still know who I am
in spite of every tear that falls
there is a lion inside this lamb

I will be no one's victim
My destiny is my own
My friends will stand beside me
My enemies are overthrown

There are many things in this world I love
Symphonies, poems, cats, the moon above
Day by day I will move in a positive direction
Never again will you hold me down and deny twas your intention

My heart swells with ample room
I shall not close that door
Sadly you have lost the password to enter anymore

Tiny green orbs of vegetable matter
bump and roll spilling forth from
an aluminum container and race around
the dish in happy freedom grateful
for their movement from their dark
dense existence into the air and light.
Little do the peas know the can was
preservation.

Grab a pepsi can.
Crush it until it crinkles.
Now it is garbage.

Retrieve pepsi can.
Reverse all of the crinkles.
Go get your five cents.

When you listen closely in the silence
you realize exactly how very small
the sound that a tiny pin will make
when thrown against a wall.

But what about a body?
When a head smashes with a thud?
"What kind of sound does that make?"
Thought the bull as he chewed his cud.

To think about the thinking
when one has finished drinking-
To see the red light flash
when love turns into ash

To align your mind with your heart,
understand the twain must part.

Gravitate and amplify!
Project the thought and radiate.
Music is mathematics
and dissonance can suffocate.

Prime time, sub prime, lending an ear-
Undercurrents, earthquakes, listening to fear.
Curl your toes, straighten your nose
Don't get so bent out of shape.

Rip the paper, know the raper,
Make the sentence clear.

The muddy footprint holds water still
remaining from the moment when the
manimal stumbled through my garden and
trampled on the violets I planted
violets which have now grown shy-

Toss a penny into the puddle
watch the dirty water ripple
make a wish and wonder when
the garden will be whole again.

insides catch fire and burn,
tumble and turn-
only your torso rides the carousel,
eye-lights flicker
hallways grow longer
the longer you search
down the upside of the floor
and you wanted more?
grab the linoleum fabric
as the carpet changes into
a bottomless cup of custard
the creme brulee holiday
of eggnog spiked with whiskey.

Christmas 2008

FileFactory.com

Your spirit is the consequence of the energy you create.
Music is the end result of love rejecting hate.
Whether harmonies ring in your ear, or discord overtakes,
The composer's time signature stills the water of our lakes.

However deep or shallow, however clear or blue,
no matter if a murky mud distorts its purest hue,
It is the grandness of existence that the universe reveals,
Be it a star or a ladybug, the composer never steals.

Nothing is denied to us, even understanding has been shared.
We were designed with supreme ability and our souls have all been spared.
The only thing meandering is appreciation for this gift,
To inspire our mortal bodies to prepare for the shift.

When we give that which is given in kind-
Absolution is what we find.

Laugh from your belly.
Smile with your eyes.
Sing from your chest.
Scream to the skies.
Listen with your mind.
Jump off your feet.
Swim in the wind.
Drink up the sweet.
Shiver through the snow.
Squint in the sun.
Sail through the mist.
Fly when you run.
Dance in your dream.
Fall into feathers.
Play on a team.
Sleep in the heathers.
Roll down the hill.
Scramble up the tree.
Awaken the still-
Imagine with me.

Remember that moment when you turned me over?
Bent me over backwards and wasted no time?
Like the moment I encountered the piping plover-
Charardrius Melodus Melodus blossomed a victimless crime.
In the sand where the ocean's voice rings,
a mathematician understands The Doppler Effect.
Wave upon wave while the piping plover sings,
Conducingly natural, in wild symphony, now-we simply connect.

at the bottom of the cup the sugar lumps up

On the verge, I think.
Still, how much time?
How many moments can one person waste?
Like the cellphone minutes we never use.

The sense of wasted time
makes little sense to one so busy.
Everyday comes with tasks.
Morning till night, life just is-

Why does my time feel better spent
when I sing a song or write a rhyme?
This is not considered productivity.

Something is pulling me apart.
Forcing me to consider that
what matters to me make not make sense
in a world so bitter.

Where unhappiness outweighs joy.

There are too many who refuse,
Too many who forget someone,
Too many who forget everyone,
For a new t-shirt or the latest compact disk.

Too much time in isolation.
Too much of a certain libation.
Too many echos of sounds we dread.
Too many books are left unread.

Wait- I want a moment to create!

I demand for my dollar and ninety-nine cents...
the penny!

Though it may sound strange,
with great urgency, I want the change.

This winter brings with it many things trapped within the winds.
Catch a cold frozen fresh one that whips a red frost on your cheek.
The slap of the wind on my face kisses me strangely and my
eyes tear with gratitude. It is a cold pleasure that brightens your
eyes. And still, it reminds me that I can feel you when you aren't
even looking.

So what of spring? What of summer? What of the fall?
We sprung, we summed it all up, and we fell.
Winter remains and its cold kisses accentuate
my hot, bleeding heart. I won't forget and I won't
exactly remember. A brand new plant will grow when
this barren season ends.