voice cracks
bony fingers
small eyes
my tummy tingles

red lips
small ears
eyes meet
I'm weak

long torso
big feet
open heart
lips meet

one lie
two lies
you told me
please hold me

cold eyes
distant body
he forgot me
he just left me

long naps
touched pills
small frame
be tamed

heart broken
just a moment
leave me be
forever solemn

"You knew of words,
but not meaning."

What is Love?, but the transporter of the Spirit
Neither Fair or Foul the Truth of it is that we Fear It

When a woman of young age doth see what she desires
No heed nor helm in many a realm will cease her heart to conspire

When a  Boy of Mid-spring doth find his heart leaps
A sure depth charge will not sink his Spirit
no matter how much of his life it will seep.

When a Lady of wisdom feels a warmth at her doors
With lean and eye she may search deeper for more
When at last convinced that the warmth is now welcome
She opens the door to embrace the heat and finds herself well done.

The Man of peppered hair all but wound from steel wool
Has found an Affection a usefulness becoming what he once wield
a Tool
See fit to fend off folly by standing his home bound
Only to find himself a pushed over *** and fallen to ground  

A Woman's desire I have been told is found in security
But with so many tales of reckless Love I find that truth to be insanity
The Truth of Love is that it is a Transport of Spirit
No matter the reason or treason of Flesh
The Heart doth live wherever Love keeps it's Chest  

What is Death?, but a Transporter of the Soul
A bookkeeper the grim reaper no bones just cold  
Created of same maker  for which we are composed

Why shiver at night cept for the chill?
A stranger to warm blood? Doth cringe at the reel?
So willing to wrestle yet biting the bait,
bound to ebb and flow since when water did break


Although unknown we bemoan the truth
After we die Death transports us while aloof
Nothing lost nor gained only a chapter of a book
shelved in the cosmos  I am a seeker so try I and look
It wakes me in sleep when I've overstepped the boundaries
and sweeps like the wind and effects all things around me.

Down on Earth we look up above
Afraid of everything we huddle up;
believing the stories of our peers
building our world on foundations of fear.
Wishing to pass in manifest destiny
in our old age or in quiet sleep and revery
but our demise despite our clouded eyes
is that we must live regardless, flesh will die.

So If I die while I'm awake
the Soul Transporter walks me to Father Fate
I will not fight I will not fuss
Ashes to ashes dust to dust
No matter how I go my soul will bust!
Free of the Flesh like Ship to Sea
Allows me grow into infinite possibilities


"Ashes to ashes Dust to Dust
when the roots get buried the trees grow up
Ashes to ashes Dust to Dust
The Soul is forever So the Force we Trust"...