A Final Spring

the final spring is come my friend
and with its breath a winter’s end
more so than my eye’s last light
which will be cast no more on night
nor to a cold December’s morn
but instead awake to shimmered dawns
that finds within its golden haze
new memories lost to future days.

Pop!

tie me to a red balloon
and send me to the sky
where I could float
and simply watch
the world go slipping by.

tie me to a red balloon
filled with the world’s despair
and in the clouds
I’d pop them out
and leave them drifting there.

Creed

it matters not which gods we find
be they in love, be they in wine
be they in laughter or in pain
though deny those who foster shame
for gods of men who demand hate
are those that we must abrogate
so if you require a lord above
take one whose creed is simply love.

The Way

his eyes grew heavy
yet his heart was light as air
dreams were on their way

A One Minute Rhyme About The Dark

the dark is a big spider
crawling up the bed
the dark is a giant cockroach
sitting on my head
the dark is ghostly curtains
waving in the night
the dark is unformed shadows
passing car headlights
the dark is naughty aliens
with probing plans unkind
the dark is murky muddy pools
seeping in my mind
but the dark comes to an end
when she comes to me
all the fears just fall away
and simply leave me be.

this has no title

these lines scrape
inside my head
like Paul Klee
scratching
painted red
or tap tap tapping
more and more
persistant raven’s
broken claw
broken strings
fed back on stage
smashed guitar
in fits of rage
though once
or while
ideas born
as these scraped lines
develop form
and so such pains
I tolerate
for from their
labours
one may create.

Morningsing

the song I sing
the bluetits bring
upon a morn
like every dawn
when light aways
night’s long malaise
with hope renewed
like freshened dew
upon the golden grass.

Bus Vandal

Ludwig’s letters longing lust
scribbled scrawly on the bus
as the bus bounced around town
Ludwig’s lust was calming down
so in the end he soon employed
the marker pen to ode his joy
sniffing pear drops inner peace
tripped out thoughts of his Elise

Mountain

each day may be a mountain
we can climb together
reach the top whenever
to watch the world abide
and as the sun goes overhead
we can think of nights instead
and stroll down to the valley
on the other side

Love App-ens

I tap out some little hearts
on a magic backlit screen
they need no interpretation
you’re aware of what they mean
and how the words behind them
are played inside my head
joined in songs so sweetly held
with words already said.