there was a time
before our time
where time did what it will
to move the earth
witness rebirths
and though time does this still
this new found time
which on us shines
for reasons we can’t know
is time as he
should ever be
and with him we will go
into a time
not yet defined
down roads he has to build
that though unclear
we’ll walk unfeared
and to time’s desires yield
naive poetry
Butterfly Dawn
we woke to a million butterflies
skittish as to dawn’s intent
yet their high dances soothed our eyes
and laced a pastel firmament
together, fashioned from their wings
to form the clouds and bluest sky
thus did their fairest flutters bring
a perfect morning glorified.
Rained
It had rained
and with it came
the sky laced low
of cameo
the bluest light
to end the night
and winter’s things
a sign of spring
with this day came
after the rain
You Can’t See The Wood
today we’ll plant a million trees
but cut two million down
and those that fall we do not see
so they don’t make a sound
it doesn’t matter what we grow
be it cedar, pine or oak
as they in time will likely go
and thus the world will choke
but still we’ll plant a million trees
two million to replace
for this is part of the disease
we call the human race.
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.