I did my best and it was
Good enough for some
But not good enough for the entire circle.

I apologize to those passengers of Life
Who did not or could not see
The percipience of my nature
For they were involved in furthering
And sustaining their own
Patches of life and rightly so.

They blamed me for
Mismanagement of my own life
Which may have in some way
Ruffled the feathers of their opinions
What they saw as mistakes
I saw as vehicles to freedom
What they regarded as foolishness
I considered as creativity's spur.

The width of Raison d'etre is wide as sky
The length of choice is unfathomable
The height of desire reaches the stars
The Sun, its Planets and their Moons
Devices for every nature's florescence
Difference is not a defense
For claiming quality
It is the hallmark of creation's artistry.

The crisp of January and August's heat
The abundance of Autumn
And Spring's colorful spirit
Testament to the unstoppable diversity.

There is no glory in just managing
And small reward for only trying.
Flags cannot be proudly planted
Only half way up the mountain.

Footprints must be left in concrete
Never in the sand of trends
Where tides of fancy wash across them
With only ripples left behind.

Hearts blood must be spilled on altars
Situated in the realm of wonder
Never on the mundane pathways  
Always walked across by Rabble.

Raising up the tallest flagpole
Is a useless exercise
Unless the banner hung upon it
Imparts healing to the masses.

A follower is not the leader.
The helper never wins the crown.
The one who fires the starting gun
Is not the one who wins the race.

There is no gold in rocky caverns
That have all been dug before.
Diamonds can be manufactured
But their shine is not the same.

All that’s left is conquering
Impediments that bar the way
To ribbons, crowns and accolades
That etch your name in history
        ljm

I realized I pushed too far
Inside nature
Stepping over icy boughs
Green needles frozen in time
My heart pounding
Exhausted of the cycle.
There are no birds circling above,
There are no words of comfort.
Just a quiet calm broken up
By the clicks and arthritic pops
Of heavy limbs and twisted gnarled
Fingers holding me in place.
I sit and smile at the crunching in the snow
Remembering the wonderful sound
My boots made trudging back home
For hot chocolate and warmth.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.

there‘s a room in my head
where I put all the things
I can‘t say to anyone.

it’s cluttered.
broken chairs,
half-drunk bottles,
notes scrawled on napkins
with words
I was too afraid to mean.

people tell you
to let it go,
but what they don’t tell you is -
the heaviest stuff
floats right back.

Outside on the city streets the wail of sirens
But me! I'm not concerned
'Cos I got *****... ***** made of Iron
Yeah! ***** of Ire..Ron, ***** of I-Iron!!!🎵🎶🎵

Hey Mister I ain't a Boy and I ain't your Son
Me! I'm just a... I'm just an Angel without a gun.

The feeling
The peeling
A reeling
In a can

A place
That’s ‘safe’
A home
Unknown

Dust, kicked into the air
Particulates everywhere


Abrasion
I stare


A cyclone of dust
Your want and must
I offer my trust
Decay and rust

Is this bust?

Softly
You decree
My difficulty
To see in me
What you see

I am hungover
On the dream
We drank
Together

I am addicted
And afflicted
Conscripted
And submitted

To your law

I am nothing
I am no one
Until you
Look at me

I am a mirror
I am a mirror

I am nothing
Until you look at me