Friends will come and friends will go
but here we walk, to travel home
side by side, step by step
here we ride, our thoughts in check
and the graveyard's only a mile away
and the reaper follows behind us these days
and if we had a stone each time we fell
I bet we'd have a stack as tall to climb out of this h*ll
So fly, fly little bird fly
fly fly breathe, please don't die
fly fly spread those wings, don't cry
birds are angels meant to glide, it's not your time
words that are meant to tell every story
but struggle to complete one
spoken songs that were supposed to tell the truth
when it was sung
kings will come, and kings will go
left to rule the ones who lost their hope
here they rise and here they fall
knowing that the earthquakes begin to shake what they built tall
and death is only a light year away
it seems so far, but it is getting close
and the people who follow behind as these days pass
bringing their children, mothers and loves
so fly fly little bird fly
fly fly breathe don't die
birds are fallen angels, meant to glide
here comes the messenger of light
it's not your time
here you'll listen
and here you'll die

My head’s
Six feet
Underwater

I’m trying
Hard
Not to drown

Bubbles
Trailing
From my lips

You’re
The air
Keeping me alive

Fall is here, leaves are changing                                                     mountains  on fire under the sunlight                                                         ­  As  I walk, I start praying                                                          ­       thanking  God for this beautiful sight                                                       The  cold crisp air is all around me                                                               ­    as I button my coat up tight                                                            ­                 I  am a  young child all over again                                              kicking  leaves  with adolescent delight

I stand by the river
Then strip off my flesh
Place it neatly by the trees
So the mud can digest it
For their fruitful ambitions
Then I slip down to the river
My bones soak in
The air, the wind, the land
The flesh waits as it gets eaten
By the worms
I watch it all
And shout
“Leave no crumbs behind, please!”
Then the water enters my skull
The wind takes in each bone
And kisses it bit by bit
Breathing it
And I believe I have tasted
Freedom.

-
Hear, the crumbling of the Earth
Here, the end of Venus' birth
As I lie in bare land with bare feet and swollen eyes
I found that my cries mean nothing in a rock where the air reigns in a voiceless bound
--My cries mean nothing in a rock where every part of my being is the Earth itself, resound

I.
Hear, the crumbling of the Earth
Rumble, tumble, crumple, stumble, crumble
I clung to my lungs as the minuscule particles start to dwindle
I reached for my nostrils and felt the spills of aeolian thrills
I opened my mouth and tasted the brittle sand from a forsaken land

II.
Here, the end of Venus' birth
My love, disintegrating, shattering in robust fragility
Fluvial murky patterns, ruining steps of vitality
Disintegrating, shattering in quiet intensity
Tides formulate the next city of Venus' death

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At last, I lie in bare land with bare feet and sunken eyes
There will never be a winning fight against the inexorable decay of time
In the name of violent rage and anger --I gnashed my teeth
Until my jaws begin to fracture,
Teeth,
        falling a
                        p
                              a
                                    r
                                           t,
                                                there was never a fight to begin with...

Corcass, culp, exstentberg lumstrings;
Barbarous of the intonation hollingate.
Corpussculous dangling, of the intonation boeneep—
Corfussbinus kesspess allaharbet.
Node in berghingbus— cordoned off—
Strident, following nuhindihindidussdactic.

What do I want? The meaning, I guess.
But only such as can fill me whole,
All my gaps and all my holes.
Yes, I want such meaning, I guess.

What else, you ask me? Freedom, I guess.
Where I won’t be in the grips,
Where the pain won’t throb in my temples.
Yes, I want such freedom, I guess.

What do I dream of? Silence, I guess.
No sounds, no creaks, no rustles at all,
A calm pulse and the air in whole.
Yes, I dream of such silence, I guess.