It's so good
to get out
of my bed
to not sink
into the deep
comforting covers
that left me
lethargic and unbottherd.

Now that out
of my bed
enjoying the things
that I should
or maybe did
because if I
don't I could've
been sleeping for
the entire day
or reading depressing
poems as my
emotions leave me
in such disarray.

Trends are discovered by science and crowds.
Bigots are discovered by newspaper outlets and the media.
You can't really say life is a one way street.
Dorothy had the yellow brick road or the red brick road.
People told her which way to go.
We will never know what was on that red brick road.
Charts aren't all Math. The same not all scientists are evil.
Media have all kinds of perspectives it's the finding the right one that is where creativity is.

The world is rotting,
And I'll rather rot with it,
Then to be a white flower,
Warily waiting to be wilted.

DECEPTIVE CADENCE
( In Memory of June Dempsey )

her fingers
caress the keys
and music blooms

the dusty piano
sitting in a corner
comes alive again

eager to tell us
what each note
tells it to tell us

she places my hands
not on the keys
but upon her hands

a musical piggyback
my hands riding
the waves of music

and I living
the beauty of it all
tremble to the touch

the music enjoying
this shadowing
so much so

that it never wants to
let go
of us

but time
erases us and we
fade with the music

The ocean roars around us

and in it I hear the call of the deity
who sent you to me

begging me to trust you beyond
trust’s breaking point

emplourinig me to take your hand in mine
and twist our fingers into patters
to shadow against the midnight sky

and I will, I will, hold on

let the waves crash at our bare feet
and walk away from this beach,
entwined in your spine

believing
believing
believing

in the Goddess of you

speaking softly on rocks

that cut our thighs through our jeans

the contrast not going unnoticed

but this is how it is for us, always

a painful contradiction of love and hate

in the same breath

a swelling heart, deflating in a second

but we would not be lovers

if love was a straight line

(anyway)

I draw hearts in the sand

like a child

and my heart beats for you

as wildly and recklessly

as only a child

would