I am thunder
I am lightning
I am a length of the Willow whip in the wind
Ever cracking in the air and striking
Precariously
That’s how I like to live
When I’m on point
And on the edge
No one can withstand the imminence
The ultimate outcome
When I assume this stance
Ask anyone of my dominance
And they’ll assure you of such prominence
Because when I unchained myself
The thunder rolls
And the strike looms
Ominously

The government has it's secrets
And so do I
We all are deep and in depth creatures
Capable of living both very public
And yet very private lives

And yet every once and awhile in time
I'm astounded by what is that I find
In my own life

That I've been trying and far more confident
In the standards which I set for myself
And now that I'm there without sense of self
I no longer wish nor want to comply

I don't say this much, but that's stupid
To waste your life creating things for someone else
When really all that I create is to learn about myself
To understand the other half, of the other side, of the other me
And to create something so foolishly
And to think that it represents most perfectly
Whatever it is that I did see
That perhaps was stupid of me

If I could box up all of the words
The most beautiful ones that I've found
And send them to you in the mail
I would do it without hesitance
Because beautiful words don't belong in my world
And I'd much rather see them alive and well
In the hands of a fluid reflective girl
Who might just meld them into song
In a world where such words actually belong

No woman's hand will warm my own
And I need no other voice to tell me I can

I'll find no confort in the confusion of another person's soul
I have enough problems within my own

I feel no obligation to try and break this human mold
For this is simply how I am

I just wish that I could stop expecting others
To somehow create the value in me
Which would permit me to grow old without regrets

This most definitely it's a terrible venture in which to invest

Remember when a woman’s walk
Her poise and chance
And most importantly, her ability to dance
Is what drew her outline and intrigued
Every able bodied man
Single or not
To look at her
To wish to offer her a hand
And yet as I am
An able bodied modern man
I hate who I am
Not because I can, but because I cannot dance
Half so well as I like to think I can
But perhaps…
Under the right circumstances
If I could see the shooting star before it descends
And ultimately lands
I would possibly
Almost definitely
Try and practice dancing again

From the last scribble
To the last scrawl

The last storm which lasts
Beyond the last hope in all

Like a lasting song
Or the last lengthy drawl

Let the artist draw last
What is meant to be drawn

Mistress of the cliffs
With eyes like lighting
And the rolling thunderous waves crashing down
Just beneath her fingertips

She is Demelza
The Goddess of solidarity and steadfastness

The epitome of emphasis
And the truth behind every last belmaidens wish

Which is of course…
To return to the fields of idleness
Of former youth

To thresh the wheat and kick the chaff
And to walk the surface of the earth
With a joy forgetting the hardships
And the toils of the fast

And so each day
She trudges her way
Though the dark and dull abyss
Until she reaches her new task
And sets herself to another height
For she was born to be mistress of the cliffs

A beautiful notion isn't it?
Ironic even
The thought of waiting here like this
As if the act is somehow blessed with ease
When all around you is in motion
And you are as unstirring as the trees
Rooted deep within the mind
Looking at the other side
And seeing the blissful, beautiful ignorance
How often I wish it could be mine
That I had no such standards as this
And that I could swallow such a feeble line
Just like a fish
Nibbling on a willow wisp
In an ocean seemingly full of fish

Believe me…

I respect such idealism as this
Because I live with it
But to “just wait” and stay like this
At present holds little hope for me
Both to and from this someone else
There is no transfer, or passage of peace

Because these few years feel like an eternity

And so the term…
“The right one?”
Makes want to say...
“Oh please.”

I've drained every wishing well
Dried-up every puddle of water
And drank down every lake, pond, and looming ocean
Not a venue is left to quench my thirst
Or to quell the viscous expression in me
Which burns like the saline fires of the red sea
So I of course... Being of sound mind
Tilt my head back to the sky to catch the rain
For the sky provides the purity of mind
To wash the taste of salt away
And to remind me what it is like to drink
Anew from the stream of each new day