(2013)
Sometimes I tend to over think things or get too caught up in my own thoughts.
Seasonal ill’n Ado, ado, soft achoos Cool wind seeps through me
To puddle one’s words Few are willing to admit Myself least of all To fall and land upon earth Closer to Earth than before?
Once my beating heart Matched steel drum lines to-to-toe Teaching metronomes But now my beat has fallen Into syncopated depths
Bickering tree frogs Endless croaking back and forth Dream a soothing song One where two branches can meet In this capital forest
A stone for a head A dauntingly fragile nose Sudden convulsions To lay my head down in peace My vestigial heart begs
Scattering shy leaves Skittering down two by two In Fall’s breeze they sink Forming such a golden path Blind-folded hearts can follow
My Grandfather’s last dream In a deep sea of white, heavy thun… Until a peaceful respite blinks What will it bring? Will the rain… With their piercing showers, will…
Why does music speak Without line or threads of time We plug ourselves in Forming an echo cocoon Never wanting to come out
Anticipation Generic butterflies swarm Twists, knots, fluttering They find no golden nectar Only number two pencils
The darkest of nights It is on these nights I turn To these keys, clicking Fervently beyond reason Behind safely shadowed doors
Five points to this as stated thus… Five; to pick up things once falle… Four; to grasp all things from wir… Three; to greet, to cheat, and din… Two; to bind wild lovers with gold…
To etch a love song No earthy ink can suffice Only color drawn From such a naive heart-well Could paint even an inkling
Such an empty sky Countless pensive glances are Over and over Swallowed swift, before their time If only I could keep them
The end of the road A distance we all travel Darkness as moonlight Spreads over stone and flowers That litter our path ahead
Ask me who he is A tall tree and branches keen words drop; leaves shaken I try to collect them all But forget them by the stream
