Sun burns eternal
Wonders of the inner-most layered explosions
Gasses and core
Shine brightly without corners
Energy always blazing towards
O, shimmering,  single, gratuitous one

Morning moisture is vaporized
Living things stir and wake
Shaken free of cold joints and harsh pillows
Crow Welcome to the Provider
Rising warmth opens green but too much
Parches and crackles and ignites

Fifteen minutes a day on bare arms
Vitamin D created
Heads lift like shoots from quiet, cool brown
Green and new, sweat lining
Old faces like vintage purses containing quiet wisdom
Don't forget the sunscreen.

Criticism crawls uncontrollably through crevices left behind in the
Kinetics of my mind, the need, the severance of mind from body
Somewhere, they call, mocking and cutting but I try to ignore
The feeling that I am being watched, coddled, pacified,
Guided through life, one life. Only one try.
Shall I break free of the constrictions?
Movement will be my key
Never stop and they
Can't keep their
Grip on
Me.

Let's hold each other and dance in place, while I get lost inside your face.
I'll trace each step with lines of light and treasure the shadows left behind.
Smile, Love, and then I'll see: perfection bloom; meant just for me.

Wonders lie behind those eyes, grey as shale, with depths like storms, layered and formed from lightning ties me to you always.  I'll be left breathless, giddy from every glance and we'll spin in place and dance
and dance;

laughing just because we can.

You've been hypnotized by the illusion of grandeur
the brilliance, and you’re not stopping to think:
...“Maybe I’m worth the truth.”
The bloom of youth is stripped from your heart,
you’ve lost it, crying on the telephone, no resilience left
there’s no one home and you’re naked,
bare and devoid of emotion, it’s like a frozen ocean
waves cresting up, and you’re down and out
you’re cracking, life is not what it should’ve been,
expectations would’ve been less
if you hadn’t been encouraged by the shiny spawn
of those media-machines, flipped through and through
‘til the pages were worn, it’s the system pulling you down.
“I’m not good enough,” he sobbed into his hands
with the curtains drawn, but you’ve got to push on,
and on, and on; can you lose the tragedy,
the heavyhearted, sorry semblance of a man
you think you should be?
It’s sad but true, as much as you try there will always be someone better,
better and more fit for the job, the test, the class, the girl, everything
but first and foremost you will always know
you tried your finest or at least you think you did
and feel blessed, and loved by the people who know you best,
if you remember that you’re like a grain of sand on the beach,
one amongst millions, but still beautiful in your own way
just have confidence.