Stormed beaches
raining bullets
and red sand drowning nameless corpses.
Fresh lies fill the boats
headed back to the beaches
without an umbrella.
Sizing up names
asked if they own flip flops
and if you enjoy beach weather.
Writing, Ideas, & Stories
Stormed beaches
raining bullets
and red sand drowning nameless corpses.
Fresh lies fill the boats
headed back to the beaches
without an umbrella.
Sizing up names
asked if they own flip flops
and if you enjoy beach weather.
Tiles cracking under my feet.
Soft ivory path dissolves
Before my toes.
Tiles change into sharp needles
Stealing life from naked heels.
Moving through a forest of needles
Is impossible with a warning sign
That reads:
Move with caution.
The tunnel is dark
the locker room
quiet waiting for someone to speak.
Twenty-eight to three, what do you do?
The talons of the Falcon are sharp
ripping through fleeing garment.
Twenty-eight to three.
The ball is in the zone
twice
Talons hiding
under a bench
while the
Patriot makes history.
trials.
Blink twice if your still here
In the dark room
looking for a god to save you.
Your not alive if your not searching.
Blink twice if you can hear me
digging into the earth
for my own grave.
Shh, do you smell that?
Feel yourself.
Dance until you soul bleeds.
Show your alive
under naked stars
and timid light.
Feel yourself.
Sing until your heart cries.
Guide the stars
guide the light
leap.
They’re just gonna leave you.
Makeshift dolls cover the case
made from hand
for your love to be.
Maybe they’ll stay.
Ignite the candle
in your dream
that carries
you off to the next
big dream.
Sit down
you don’t belong here
this is where the big boys
sit.
Sit here
that’s the spot
enemies peering in like windows
window in my chest
you can see my heart
wearing it on my sleeve,
sleeveless.
Garden green
Turnips
Turn it
Wash the dirt
Brush it off
Comb it softly
Earth is home
Tonight.
Hello,
Your here and welcome
take a seat
enjoy the drink
you’ll be first.
First!
No time for second
time is on my side
sideline is for second
I’m in the huddle
Hike.
Cruising lines
flush forward,
inward,
connecting together like a web.
Tell us your future.
Family on the pier.
Job in Paris.
The lines tells all like a caged rat.