One Day

They were just words
Waves with no destination
Looking for home
For a homecoming of sorts
Inevitably looking for actions
But he was not to be found
Brothers searching for each other
Long lost but never forgotten
Both on journeys unexplainable
No need to explain
Was not necessary
Brothers just know
Words continues searching
Endlessly with hope
Actions staggered into a fight
A battle that was not his
He does the right thing
He fights for freedom
For the time being
There will be no reunion
Actions cannot hear words
And words cannot see actions
Maybe one day
One day

Tears

What once was beautiful is now destroyed

What once was love is now a consummation of hate

Pieces of life scattered amongst the ashes

On display for all

Whether here or the after world

What once was a smile is now a black lung

Gasping for air with a slow pulse

Pictures of happiness now just ample angst

Retorted conversations full of vulgarity

Mirrors broken in my name

Giving me unfortunate luck for the rest of my life

A slow death

I have tears

Limon+Cello

The lemon was not to be sold.
 It was ripe for its liking and knew that patience was the way to go. It was not crazy nor did it have any delusional thoughts of grandeur. It did not produce nectar nor did it ever want to be associated with honey or pollen or even bees and butterflies. It is thoroughly satisfied with its own mystery. With no place to call home, the lemon knows that with time all good things happen. With its perfect contention with its citric and acids, the lemon migrates the land like a yellow nomad. Searching in solitude for its meaning of existence. The lemon's juices spill not flow. It is rough in its nature. It has its reasons. It doesn't care about minuscule things like shape or taste or that it attacks opened wounds with a vicious tyrannical attack. The lemon knows of its idiosyncrasies and still continues to take its own path. Sure the lemon can be baked and made into an Ade that children love. But the lemon CHOOSES to engage in these extra extra curricular activities. The lemon knows its core is protected by rind and only a fool would challenge the lemon's soul. Even without a place of origin the lemon is a BACA (bad ass citric acid). And when the lemon's day is over, it relaxes to the sweet succulent charms of Limoncello.
Sip my friends. Sip.

Mother

We all come out of a womb
With no thoughts of why or how
We don't even get to choose our environment
Sonetimes its good
Sometimes its bad
Sometimes its very bad
We don't get the option
It just is
But no matter
We are all free
As life happens we begin to make choices
We begin to change the course
Sometimes its bad sometimes its very bad
But other times its grand
No matter how we begin
Its how we end
We all came out of a womb
And we get to choose how we die

Wave Flag Wave

The day was eloquent
The first of fall for a hundred years
The gloom could not last forever
The people would not survive
But their queen was encourageable
A tiny sort with a weave full of hope
Exquisite lady her presence un-beknowth
Dressed in radiance her crown shineth above
A fearless leader first
A fearless warrior second
She arose and fought like a winged seraphin
A battle she won a battle she lost
And as her wounded men lay silent
Her flag waved strong

Ode to Robin

Its been a long time since I've fallen in love with a newscaster, but its happened. Again. I mean the first time was memorable like when the Dark Lord first appeared on Leno. I mean the news was given to me like no one had given it to me before. Almost as if I was a virgin with virgin like bodily fluids. The first time felt true and real. And for the most part it was. A Chuck Woolery love connection. The lips full of words. Full of energon cubes worth of substance. The first time was love at first sight. Love at second sight. And love at eternity of sight. I was complete. And then Dan Rather retired. He left our love like one leaves the country to avoid restitution. I moved on. But now. She has come into my life. Full of hair styles and vitality for life. Full of beautiful bodied snatch hair and melodic retorts. She completes me daily. A newscaster yet more than just that. A queen unbeknowest to all. I would whisper sweet nothings into her elf ears if only I was allowed to save her skin shaffings. Strange?  So what. I love her. I would be her pants while she casted the news. I would wash her panties with my tongue and syrup if given the chance to live life. I would even take her last name should we wed one day. Fuck you Dan Rather. Fuck me Robin Shebotsky.

Dark Ages

Some time ago on a dark desolate path a deal was made with the devil. A deal sealed with fire and stamped with the blood of unforgiving souls. At the time it all made sense. Life is sacrifice. My fate presumed immortal but instead consumed all of its innocence. The world quiet on all fronts with everlasting power at my bequeath. I believe in my decision. At the time. At the time. But it all changed. First the heart. Strong on the front but weak in the end. Full of substance yet lackluster in depth. Then the brain. Regaled in high esteem but turmoiled in truth. Full of wit but eventually dumbfounded. Then the body. Powerful in thought but pruned in reality. A distinguished core full of inevitable frailty. A man made a deal with the devil. And he paid a wage worthy of scripture. A price deemed no sale. A fee equivalent to pi. There is no happy ending here. Revelations is already written. The handshake already made. The price already paid. God be with us and also with you.