I can't save you,
You know that.
I can't keep shaping Our reality
Around the designs Of tomorrows dreams when we are wearing Yesterdays shoes.

If only the laces didn't take so long
To untie.

Your love of the past Is like
bleeding With the sharks
And soon there will be only one of us.
Just one to complain about
The familiar warmth of this ****** Blanket while the north star
Weaves its beckoning spell
Safely
Outside.

Orphaned Souls falling like coal snowflakes
An overabundance in the heavens? Perhaps
I see them strung together to form wiggle-less worms
Eyeball floaters blocking ethereal visions
They bring phantom smells of lavender and patchouli
Then vanish as if aware of my presence
It’s but a dream

Today, one more was added to the soul heap as she left the body
Another bereaved soul
Why does this force me to breach my beliefs?
Am I not content to be a slave to my own ignorance?
It requires less work and I’m tired

Enlightenment requires a mind as vulnerable as the Universe
Free to fall from grace
And the confines of the caged soul
Each door that opens presents another that is locked
I fear I lack the strength to break open these barriers
But I so desire to catch the wafting souls drifting from dream to dream

I lived a petrified life
frightened, and terrified
afraid to love
and not to be loved

I shut everything down
kept the door closed
my feelings hidden
and my thoughts locked-up

It was all pain
full of despair
covered with so much darkness
and a total block-out

The grief of letting go
I am losing myself
when you found yours
in another's arms.

This is just a boring sadness;
a low-lying, flat sort of sadness,
just a grey sea on a drizzly day.
There’s nothing major going on here,
nothing monumental, nothing tragic.
It’s all just a bit blue round the edges.

This isn’t an explosive sadness,
it isn’t a torrent and it isn’t rock bottom.
It’s just a boring sadness that hums steadily
and it’s fine, really. It’s fine.

It’s just a sort of storm globe sadness,
willing to become tempestuous when shaken.
The waves rush, lightening darts, thunder bellows,
but it all happens behind glass.
And it’s fine, really, because it settles itself quickly.
The sea goes flat again and it’s fine.

It’s just a monotonous sadness,
the sort that makes life dull and hopeless.
It keeps you in your bedroom
and it ticks off the years and still,
you’re in the bedroom,
yet to have your first kiss,
your first heart break,
your first night out,
your first airplane ride,
your first concert,
your first car,
but it’s fine, because it’s a sadness
that comes down like a fall
of paper snowflakes and it’s fine.
It’s all fine.

It’s just a boring sort of sadness,
so you watch other people’s misery instead
and you wish you could spare them the pain.
You become a twisted sort of sadness covet,
a sadness thief, stealing sadness that isn’t boring,
stealing sadness that seems worse than your own
And it hurts you and makes you feel worthless,
all these bungled attempts to rob sadness
but it’s fine, really. At the end of the day, you’re fine.
It’s just another bit of boring sadness and you are fine.

This is not the mentality
     by which we were schooled -
This sense of nothing
     solid about ourselves -
Nothing permanent, nothing stable
     to lovingly cleave to -
That "I" is only a
     transient idea of "I"



- fr

Welcome.
To the Age of major gains,
But no progress.
Abundant selfies,
But harshly any selflessness.
Delectable boomerangs of delicious dinners,
While many suffer starving in foreign winters.
Will
Likes
Hearts
Views
And
Shares
Become the end-all-be-all of the winners?
Chicken Dinner
Chicken Dinner
Chicken
Dinner
C
H
   I          R
    C       E
     K     N
      E    N
       N  I
        D

Resting against the backdrop
Of a host of clouds
Yearning for adulation
Gracefully swaying her hips in
Brusque jerks, she colorfully
In deliberate detail
Vivaciously enchants would be onlookers.

breathing the turquoise like lavender,
and sipping the blue summer.
bitter cold clouds glide and morph lava lather,
floating whispers cut by sweet pineapple sunshine.

soon, a moment, now
rhythms ripple the sky like skipping stones
we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.

cobalt bass rumbles the earth hungry,
pumps the air with springing spirals
pushing and pulling the senses,
reverberating through cells.

heavy mud humming, stomping
echoes through our atoms dizzy;
balancing tuned body to innate electricity
the fizz of circulating lemonade energy.

we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.

strawberry melodies spilling ribbons,
dolphin leaps of the spaces inbetween beats,
lines of colours overlapping,
colliding, mixing, merging, blending
in with the forest.

washing over souls the life fire sparkles
like a clear water cleansing harmonies,
sound waves crashing against inertia.
phosphorescent glow of re-charged love
for the world, for being, animation

flowing through burnt smoky ashes
of sapphire charcoal skies;
dimmed radiation of chlorophyll emerald days.
the smell of salt, dry bark, fluffy carbon mists,
trembling lights softening the eyes'
grip on outlines, loosening lies.

watching the cycles of patterns
tumbling colours through a mill rotating,
and the silence of listening
when the music comes to an end.