I tend to lose myself in crowds of people.
A chameleon blending in with its surroundings.
It’s only when I am alone once more
That I can find myself again

of all the calamities
it's this one that does it.
chewing on fantasies
wears my bite down.
i'm eroding,
my feathers are fading         away.
i'm going,
to be someone

someday.

Meal's on you, ace.
Meals of you, ace.
As just but a deck of cards
Among tables of strung-out gamblers;
What's blackjack to a game of craps?
Suppose it's a matter
Of the rules of the sitting chaps,
Though I've never seen drunks wetter.
It's innumerable cards of the same face,
For each is but another portrait of indifference.
It's innumerable dealers of the same things,
For each is closer in similarity than farther in dissension.

To love to play
Is not the same as a play of love.

Yet, to make life a game
Is not the same as the "game" of life itself.

A small bird gliding on her fragile wings
Through grey skies of shadow sings
River’s call beckoning her near
As day ends, the journey begins here.

The darkness distorts the light
Altering shape, form and sight
But things remain what they are
Just contorted like light of stars.

Sometimes she forgets the sky
Where the cloudscape reigns, and the heaven’s high
Entwined in thought and lost within
Searching her way to journey’s end.

But the sky guides too
Illusion of rivers’ blue
Just remembering to look
Surrounded by moonlight hues.

With her fragile wings
And the dawn of light she sings
Clouds calling her home
Haven, Rejoice, Alone.

How can she forget the sky
Inside of her the raven’s cry
Freed from thought and found within
Found her way to journey’s begin.

The reflection distorted
By darkness there below
In the blue moonlight hues
Her true essence shows.

On her fragile wings
through skies of dusk she brings
Rivers of reflection sigh
And sometimes she forgets the sky…

a red rose in a field
red as a freshly painted barn
I see it, alone in that cornfield
like a lighthouse, standing, by the crashing sea.
the bees buzz around its crown
and the butterflies dance by the stalk
Oh what a sublime scene!
as simple as settling dust.

It grows here on its own
stretching its own root, finding its own waters
not like the vines that twist around the trees
but instead, it is almost its own sun
and almost its own earth
and as unbound as the river
flowing, past its own banks.

what a beautiful flower
what a beautiful dusk
a red rose
and a field of corn.

The one inspired
By imaginary song of trees
The one who desired
To grasp the melody on the breeze  

Within, the dark - uninspired
Without, inward flows the light

Beyond inner veil of grey
Waits another dawn
Shines a bright new day
To the other edge of the sky
To the heights of the sea
To the other side of life
“I can hear it calling to me”

Imaginary made real
Has it gone right?
Old scars’ time to heal
“Let’s leave at first light.”

Within is the night - a heartfelt sigh
Without is the dawn - the last paragon

Beyond the edge of sky
Singing on the breeze
It dances there nearby
Where the universe greets the sea
In the depth of time
At another journey’s end
This time it sings to me
“Here it all begins”

I met my younger self for coffee.
That morning.

Only I never liked the taste then.
Like I still don't like the taste today.

I sit across from a wide eyed girl.
Dressed like she was attending a funeral.
With big dreams to become.
Everything they never thought she could be.

Her smile filled with hope.
With a single question in her mind.
"Did we make it?"
She's too excited to stay still.

I sipped the tea I ordered.
While she is served hot coco.
That reminds her of better days.

She thinks she knows everything.
So it's hard to tell her she doesn't know enough.

Her smile I know hides.
A million secrets.
She puts on a good facade.

It would **** her if I told her.
All things they did.
The men she met.  

Yet if I told her we went to a theater in london.
With friends we never thought we'd find.
She'd scream out with glee.

But it's not my place.
To mess with time and space.
So I saved the good stuff as a secret.

All I whisper.
All I can say.
"We made it out alive."

She stares out of the window in disbelief.
Wanting to have heard much better news.
I take her hands in mine.
"Your better days are still to come.
We have so many more dreams than we did before."

She smiles through the disappointment.
As her phone begins to call.
We still keep our phones on silent.
Because we never liked the noise.