My words were never magnificent,
too full of awkward pauses.
too distant from the Muses’ golden songs
Until then
Until I reach that beautiful chorus
And words explode from my vibrating bones
fully formed
graceful
dancing
Across the page.
Until then I repeat
repeat
repeat
Stacking phrases and random words like building blocks
into towers lopsided, and not always lasting
more wreckage for the next
Please Death, give my parents one more day.
They’ve yet to apologize.
They’ve yet to change.
Do not take them away until
I hear new things said
Give them one more day
As many as it takes
I don’t mind the wait.
Life are you pleased with yourself
At the cleverness of the maze you’ve designed.
Do you feel joy when I get confused
Do you feel guilt when I get tired
Have you grown bored
The unfinished poet rides horses of wild talent
having fled the chariot, lost to the sun
No More guiding ropes
No more frantic hopes
There is only holding on as the distances fly by
Eyes shut, landscapes unseen whisper and scream
Words pile and stack high
Watch where horses step
Hooves catch snapping across overlapping concepts
The poet tumbles down splashing somewhere profound
I am alone but not lost
From role to role
My soul freely flows
In dawn, in dusk
We are not separate but only briefly lost.
Too small for our roles,
Exchanging vessels till they fit
In forest, in night
I draw forth.
In ocean, in day
A pattern larger than our eyes
An unheard sound vibrates forever
Across one thousand talking fingers
Across one generation never more
The collective language of co-operation collects a colorful collection of linguistic collaborations covering the co-dependent and the co-independent conditions.
A murder of crows had a score to settle
The choice had to made
They heard what you had said
They heard your tone
And vowed we are not alone
Children of the Night, Children of the Sun
Our vengeance be done
Three-cuts-thirty
Violence plays dirty
Where water flows,
changes will show.
Wail till tears flow,
changes will show.
Laugh till tears flow,
changes will show.
Time passes too slow,
last till changes show.
I observed you in the corner of my eye
thinking my attention had slipped you by.
You writing those thank you letters
so conceited, so renowned
to answered prayers profound.
Reminding you in simple sounds.
That all your efforts will turn to dust.
That you never had anyone’s trust.
That you are unequivocally a creature of disgust.
Tears in the night
Fight or flight
Hold her close
Hold her tight
Soon a new day
Soon a new sight
Thomas Typewriter 
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