the elevator in your intuition
hasn’t settled on a level
floor by floor
juggling balance and sanity.
buttons on all floors
mashed in
flashed in
fire escape button hit
in a corner
waiting
Tag: Trust
refugee
fighting away
the urge to fight
just take a flight
find a home
made out of bricks
read about the licks
you missed
in a boat sailing away;
far away
that ain’t very fair
they made you mayor
now they call you traitor
blow your brains out with a lazer
and that wouldn’t phase her
found her drawn in crayons so i traced her
just so i can taste her
later
snakes loose
drawing blood to test
if this dimension
is habitable,
when did this glass
become so
life like.
now it is just right
the walls caved in
glass shot
a tunnel of hiss
flying box
house of balloons
personalized jack o’ lantern
your sweet song
beckons me closer;
listen to me,
don’t waste a hand on that clock
put your hands up
than down like a prayer
and rip the skin off my flesh,
carve me like the thirty first
dress me up as your favorite dream
sing that song that keeps my ears star born,
don’t stop
call my name
lay on your creation
inked archer
do you remember
when the walls went up,
the security, the safety, knowing no one will ever
get in,
until one archer
with a single arrow
sinks the wall like a rowboat
whistle and a walk
lightworker
you’ll lead the way
will follow;
protector of man-
the earth below her feet; she worships
the ones you will not meet; she notice
electric fingers twirls the air like string
earth given powers, meant as a sign
to bring forth the daily wonder
we walk on without regard;
her gentle roars keeps the power safe,
fangs bear the wicked and worsen-
a tiger guardian, a lightworker.
today; she works as a electrician
bringing light
to those ready.
strange creature/_
between us and
her
just a little space
we can feel it
all
our bodies and yours
we can hear your heart beatin’
through us
nothin’ but star dust
paint on a brush
our universe
make a mold of your hand
on ours
little love can
go real
far.
eri
the worst villian
but always strikes clean,
unforgiving
persistant and held by two arms.
time sweeps through open and closed windows
self imposed –
own will justice
with no checks and balance.
time is god.
bottom of the barrel
the bottom wasn’t the bottom
it never existed
it was just home,
the golden fish would tell stories
of a land bathed in light
kissed by soft air-
we huddled around her stories
of fulfilment and life,
we prayed to poseidon
to bring us;
bring us to the land of the free,
where goldy stayed-
away from the bottom.
the next day she was gone,
the we shuffled to an i
in silence.
Leon
a crewmate on our last days – “be
less of yourself for anyone and the sea will reclaim you,
our lives on Leon; this boat will change you
so you can survie, we live on our captains words:
where the water bleeds fresh, will live as kings of!
we sailed on Leon for days without rest
collecting fools gold for our nest,
until the sea gave out
reclaimed Leon
like a mother and child
Saint's Muse 