Self

touch

Love

Touch

Good

touch gentle flow

Deep

Touch

Wonder

touch

magic touch inside the lines

Healthy

Touch

flirty

touch

Invisible

Touch

Feathered signs

Thank you

Touch

Waking

touch

Self touch

Love

The kind that shakes your core

Makes you discover the best of yourself

and the worst of yourself.

Have you ever been in love?

Place another person’s well being above your own

The strength of the We better than the interest of the I

Have you ever been in love?

When silence and talking are both a welcomed event

Activity and boredom is paradise when done together

Have you ever been in love?

Made plans for tomorrow and infinity

Shined the light beyond yourself

Revealed the deepest heart

If you’ve ever been in love?

Keep it close

Hold it tight

Wrap all that is grateful in appreciation

To always being

In love

That voice from deep inside

Swimming

Swatting

Pushing through

Turned upside down

Inside out

Tearing and treading

Snippets of sideways conversation

Building gold out of coal

Diamond shaped recognition

Blinding the dashboard

With safety lights turned on

Wind chimes heard faintly

Worms upon the surface

Barefoot and lonely

Peaceful and knowing

Logic to believe what can’t be seen

Faith to see what rings true

Gathering up fuzz balls to make it all new.

The dance

fits of circles

Leading nothing

To no-where

To now

That country

This leader

This conflict

Fighting nothing

At no-where

To now

This city

Our family

The friendship

Lifting nothing

In no-where

To now

Your demons

Left hidden

Glossed over

Gives nothing

Gets no-where

Right now

Your back pat

False feeling

Hollow guestures

Grows nothing

For no one

Right now

Changes

Left idle

Pushed under

Ignites no one

For no-where

Right now

War is never the answer. BORED WIT IT!!!

A little seed planted in the ground searching for the water buried beneath the layers upon layers of brown.

Separated by the color of dermis ornamenting each variety of flavors.

Trial and error to baste the roots today, some flourish; some die and others do its bit to suck in just enough to hold onto the sun.

Storms and frost keeping it all in check so as to level the field turned up for what.

A desert breeze runs down a thoughtless seagull at the mercy of driving to fast. Speckled red hitting the pavement.

She tells me to shut up for cheering her on as the ball makes contact with the bat; probably a projection of what I used to believe so naively when the maiden went snooping into my diary.

Sad face unnoticed by saving what we can this drought season before winter sets in.

Stalking the worms from the silk meant to be boiled and burned for my grandmothers recipe to open the lungs, yet her convincing tone sets others to see it a different way.

Locked into the work of the day and none the wiser to all forms of germination happening during the night. Narrated by supernovas and black holes.

Honey pots and strawberry guava ripe for the picking at the end of the bend, with no effort that our hands had spent on valley and acres ready to be put to bed.

Hissing wild echos chasing imprints of imagination under the covers, safe in the warmth and screened in for everyone’s comfort.

Searching for meaning with kaleidoscopes and newspapers screeching songs no longer heard by any sensible logic, enjoyed tenderly in those pages of his diary.